8.27.2000
Looking for trouble: Truck squad gets down and dirty to keep R.I. highways safe

By BRIAN C. JONES
Journal Staff Writer
     On a misty summer morning, huge trucks move like an endless freight train along Route 95, heading north toward Rhode Island's "crash corridor."
      CB radios in the trucks crackle with warnings.
      But the messages aren't about the life-and-death hazards that lie ahead in the perversely twisted, 21-mile-long highway through greater Providence, where one-fifth of the state's truck accidents occur.
      Instead, the warnings are about more immediate threats on this rural stretch of highway in Richmond.
      "There's DOT on the shoulder," says one trucker.
      "And one right beside you," says another.
      "There's DOT all over the place," says a third.
      What's alarming the drivers are sightings of the "truck squad," a nine-member state police contingent financed by the federal Department of Transportation, hence the "DOT" label.
      The truck squad can wreck any trucker's day.
      A bumper-to-bumper inspection can take 45 minutes out of a driver's schedule, in which every lost moment can cost money. Worse, the truck squad can spot a dangerous defect such as bad brakes and immediately order the truck off road.
      So it's understandable that drivers would rather avoid the truck squad.
      On the other hand, the special unit is one reason officials cite for a surprising record in Rhode Island:
      Some statistics show that the state is one of the safest in the country when it comes to large-truck accidents.
      Year after year, Rhode Island ends up low on lists of fatal truck crashes.
      This may surprise those who consider themselves the natural prey of big trucks.
      And, in Rhode Island and nearby Massachusetts, images are still fresh of two spectacular back-to-back crashes this summer.
      Five people were killed - two truck drivers and three members of a Massachusetts family — when an 18-wheeler rolled over a car July 17 and exploded as both approached a minor accident in North Attleboro.
      Three days later, a tanker truck flipped as it left Route 95 in Warwick onto an exit ramp. A car plowed through spilling jet fuel and ignited a fire that was visible for 20 miles and that boiled water in the nearby Pawtuxet River. Remarkably, no one died.
      The accidents reinforced the commonly held notion that large trucks are more than just a nuisance to cars, but they are genuinely a lethal threat.
      As a group, trucks get into fewer crashes than cars, only about 3 percent of the nation's 11 million traffic accidents. Cars and light trucks account for 95 percent.
      But when they do crash, the results can be catastrophic, given their size and sometimes-hazardous cargoes.
      The Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration, the new agency that Congress created within DOT this year to police large trucks, puts it this way:
      Big trucks make up only 3 percent of all vehicles and 7 percent of traffic. But they're involved in 9 percent of fatal crashes.
      About 13 percent of people who die on the road do so in truck crashes. And the victims in truck-car accidents are most probably the occupants not of a truck, but a car.
      This national toll of people killed in trucking accidents has been constant. The 1998 total — 5,374 — was only 266 lower than 15 years earlier.
      IN RHODE ISLAND, the front line in the war on truck accidents is the Commercial Enforcement Unit of the State Police, which is the formal name for the truck squad.
      The enthusiasm that runs through the unit is the kind of esprit de corps one expects in an elite military force.
      Truck squad members wear dark uniforms with "Rhode Island State Police" nattily stitched in red across the back. Their trousers are tucked into polished combat boots; when they are inspecting the rigs, they put on military-style caps.
      The unit's leader, Lt. Matthew Giardina, who helped found the squad in the late 1980s, has an infectious nonstop delivery as he talks about the unit's operations, rattling off statistics, explaining the details of how his troopers check out a truck's brakes, or describing the Panasonic CF-27 "Toughbook" laptop computers that not only tap into national computer databases via cell phone, but have survived being dropped down a flight of stairs.
      The truck squad's early days were exciting, according to the lieutenant.
      "Every one of us could grab one junk box a day," he said, meaning there were plenty of defective trucks to be pulled over. "Now," he said, "we do one every 2 1/2 weeks."
      The police work Giardina oversees is not the kind that inspires Hollywood; it's hard to envision a hit TV series called Truck Squad.
      The job combines the boredom of a taxi driver waiting for a fare, with the routine duties of a neighborhood mechanic and the assembly-line functions of a data-entry clerk.
      On a recent morning, the squad shepherded a truck into a big rest area on Route 95, about 13 miles north of the Connecticut border.
      Trooper John Furtado climbed out of his gray sport utility truck, walked over to the cab of the idling tractor trailer, addressing the driver as "sir," and boosted himself quickly onto the running board.
      The move seemed more casual than it really was.
      Highway policemen occasionally are shot without warning, and the truck squad has even less chance than regular troopers to see what a driver, high up in the cab, might be up to.
      So Furtado likes to get quick look, also checking to see whether the driver is wearing a seat belt, and whether there is even a whiff of alcohol on his or her breath.
      Furtado asked for a small mountain of paperwork: the driver's "CDL" or commercial drivers license; his "medical card" to see if he's had his two-year physical; the log book truckers are required to keep, showing that they haven't exceeded federal standards for how many hours they've been driving; and the truck's registration and other required documents.
      He ambled back to his SUV, typed identification numbers into the laptop, checking national databases to see if the driver was a convicted felon, whether the truck had recently been inspected in another state, whether it was on DOT's "A" list, meaning it's operated by a "high risk" company that's already in hot water with inspectors.
      This particular tanker was owned by a New London, Conn., firm, hauling gasoline from a Providence fuel depot to a chain of cut-rate service stations.
      The driver, who identified himself to a reporter only as "Steven," said he's all for safety and observed that Furtado was more polite than most highway inspectors. But when pressed, Steven acknowledged his nervousness about the delay.
      "I'll be calling in right afterward. I'll have to explain why I'm late and that it's not my fault, and they'll have to make the arrangements," he said.
      Furtado slipped on a pair of rubber gloves and grabbed a red-padded mechanic's dolly. Lying on the dolly face up, he scooted underneath the rig.
      He looked at the brakes — there are multiple systems on an 18-wheeler — marking "push rods" with chalk to measure whether they extend too far. He checked for cracks in the truck's frame, inspected hoses, searched for fluid leaks.
      He emerged, his uniform still spotless, joking, as he shucked the rubber gloves, that one of the skills is learning how to give a truck the once-over without getting filthy.
      Furtado walked around the truck, kicking the huge tires; he asked the driver to turn on the headlights, the high beams, low beams, sound the loud horn and the not-so-loud horn; he climbed atop the tanker to see if the fuel covers were on tight; and asked the driver to step on the brake to check those lights.
      Forty-four minutes later, he handed Steven a printout from his laptop, a record of the inspection that in this case showed just a few minor infractions, including one non-working brake light.
      Steven drove off and Furtado climbed back into the SUV and headed back onto Route 95. He pulled over to the side of the road, tuning his CB radio to the truckers' channel 19, and heard almost immediately:
      "DOT on the shoulder."
      IN PART, the state's good record on truck crashes comes from Rhode Island's status as the smallest state and the truck squad's ability to patrol a compressed network of truck routes.
      There are only three Interstate highways: Route 95, measuring 43 miles from the Connecticut to the Massachusetts borders; Route 295, which arcs west from Route 95 to rejoin the highway 23 miles to the north; and Route 195, a pint-sized but accident-prone 4 miles.
      It means that an energetic truck squad can effectively put the squeeze on errant truckers. State police officials credit the squad for the state's relatively positive showing.
      "Our record is good, compared to other states," said Maj. Steven M. Pare. "That is because of our focus on the dangers back in the mid-1980s as to trucks on the highway and the commitment by law enforcement and federal and state funding to make it safe."
      David Longo, a spokesman for the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration, says that the records back that up.
      In 1998, Rhode Island conducted 4,230 inspections of trucks, or about 14.5 for every million miles traveled by trucks in the state; nationally, the inspection rate was 11.1 per million miles.
      "It's a city-state, not Texas, Ohio, or California," noted Edward Walsh, director of the Governor's Office on Highway Safety.
      The comparison between Rhode Island and Texas is revealing.
      In 1998, Rhode Island had 3 deaths. Texas, with the biggest death toll, had 479.
      To be fair, there is far less truck traffic in Rhode Island, even though it's regarded as a "bridge" state — one that national truckers have to pass through even when there's no local delivery or pickup.
      Less than 5 percent of traffic here, in terms of miles-driven annually, is by big trucks. Nationwide, trucks account for 7 percent of the traffic.
      CRASH (Citizens for Reliable & Safe Highways), a California group critical of the trucking industry, says lack of truck traffic is a plus for the state.
      "Rhode Island is a little off the beaten track for heavy trucks," said Michael J. Scippa, the CRASH executive director, adding that makes it a "good reason to live and drive there."
      But safety is relative.
      For the traffic that Rhode Island does get, it's generally safer than other states, when its fatality record is compared to factors that even out size differences.
      One measure is a ratio that compares the number of fatal accidents to the overall miles driven.
      In 1996, Rhode Island had one of the highest ratios in the nation, 3.1 deaths per 100 million miles driven by large trucks. That was a year in which the state had six deaths from large-truck crashes.
      But in many years, it has far fewer deaths; there were three in 1998, the last year for which figures are available, giving it a rate of 1 per million miles driven.
      TRUCKING IS one of the nation's most regulated industries, and tough federal rules play a role in the state's safety record.
      There are rules about the construction of trailers and how thick tanker walls have to be, standards for brake adjustment, length of trucks, firefighting equipment, warning lights, tire treads, ventilation and valve systems.
      Drivers must pass a series of written and on-the-road tests to qualify for a Commercial Drivers License. They must have medical exams every two years and be subject to random drug and alcohol tests. Drivers have to keep log books detailing whether they obey federal standards for how many hours they've been driving.
      There are rules about how long trucks can be, whether truck companies can operate double trailers, and if so, how long the trailers can be, and what sort of equipment truckers need to make sure their loads are firmly tied down.
      "I feel sorry for the industry, just trying to meet the standards," says Robert L. Molla Jr., the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration's state director for Rhode Island.
      Molla also expressed sympathy for drivers.
      "It's a hard life," Molla said. "I don't care whether you are a local driver or not, they have no home life. They don't know where they will be today, tomorrow or the next day. You're out there, being jostled, bouncing.
      "There are so many ways that a driver can be paid: by salary, by the hour, by the mile, by the trip, per-full (load) miles, or empty miles."

      Thus, there is tremendous pressure on drivers to get places as fast as possible, Molla said. But he is more inclined to put the onus on the truck companies, which can be sanctioned separately from the drivers.
      I have less feeling for motor carriers that push the driver," Molla said. "He has a job he likes, and if he rattles too many cages, the motor carrier can find a way to get rid of him."
     ONE OF THE MOST dangerous vehicles that Trooper Furtado has seen in his four years with the truck squad was a trash-hauling truck that he stopped near the Newport Bridge in June.
     Two rear tires were flat and a four-inch metal spike was sticking out of a front tire; two brakes were inoperative because hoses had been cut, perhaps to bypass problems; a leaf spring was broken; a brake assembly that should have been bolted to the truck body was loose.
     Furtado ordered the truck off the road, the severest immediate step the squad can take, and he wrote up a list of citations against the trucking company, which is based in the Blackstone Valley.
     Last month, the company was subject to a "compliance review," which is an IRS-like audit by Molla's federal inspectors, who scour a company's records, looking for violations.
     That can lead to hefty fines, which can be especially painful for small companies working on close profit margins.
     And it can put the companies on the federal government's black list, a so-called "SafeStat" report of companies with bad records that's available on the Internet.
     Rhode Island currently has no "A" list companies; out of 4,822 trucking companies headquartered in Rhode Island only 12 are in the next category.
     LATELY, regulators have focused their efforts on whether drivers are getting enough sleep and rest.
     Currently, truckers are allowed to drive a total of 10 hours before they must be off-duty for 8 hours.
     They can be on-duty for a combination of non-driving and behind-the-wheel chores for 60 hours in a seven-day period or 70 hours in an eight-day stretch.
     But it's possible for truckers to be on the road for 16 hours in a 24-hour period and to drive, rest, and to drive again for grueling periods.
     The competitive nature of the commercially deregulated industry adds to the pressures to break the rules, Molla says.
     Shippers can demand that a carrier meet unrealistic schedules, or find another that will, Molla says.
     Some companies "are going beyond our present regulations," Molla says. "They are pushing the clock ... and we don't have enough federal agents to enforce the law."
     Last April, the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration proposed a major revision in the rules about the hours of service.
     Under the proposed rules, a driver would be required to have 10 hours off in any 24-hour shift, with 2 hours off-duty during the work shift. Also, drivers are required to have up to 56 hours off every seven days to allow for more "recovery sleep."
     The proposals have created an uproar within the industry.
     The American Trucking Association contends that the rule change could prompt the industry to put more trucks and drivers on the road — decreasing safety and running up costs to the industry.
     Even safety advocates are critical about the rule change, saying that an increase from 10 to 12 hours of allowed driving would be a step backward.
     But groups such as CRASH do support some changes, saying the current rules aren't tailored to a human being's 24-hour sleep cycles.
     IN RHODE ISLAND, another way to improve safety would be to fix dangerous roads.
     The leading candidate for reform is the so-called "crash corridor," which state officials have defined as the stretch of Route 95 from Warwick to the Massachusetts border in Pawtucket. Route 195, from Providence to Seekonk, Mass. is included.
     This 30 percent of the state's highway system is responsible for 76 percent of interstate trucking traffic accidents in the state.
     The corridor has three well-known hazards: the Thurbers Avenue curve, just south of Rhode Island Hospital; "The Split," where Route 195 connects with Route 95 just a little to the north; and "The S-Curves," a slalom-style stretch of the highway in Pawtucket.
     Rhode Island drivers use the expressway as a "local road," said Robert P. Murray, of AAA Southeastern New England, meaning interstate truckers not only have to deal with the convoluted design of the highway, but with native motorists who blithely "hop on and hop off" the road.
     Two years ago, there were 542 commercial vehicle accidents in the state, of which 157 occurred on interstate highways. Of those, 122 were within the crash corridor.
     One of the problem areas — "the split" — may be eliminated when the state relocates the Routes 95-195 merge in a project to begin next year.
     "The biggest problem with 195, other than the fact that the cement is turning to sand and that we've been shoring it up, is that this is a 1960s design," said William D. Ankner, state transportation director.
     "If you are not attentive, if you are not careful, the road is not forgiving," Ankner says. "All of that is amplified if you are dealing with a truck, which does not have a great deal of mobility."
     But the other obstacles of the crash corridor will remain, Ankner said.
     "The two of our landmarks on our road system — the Thurbers Avenue curve and the S-curves in Pawtucket — unfortunately are going to be with us," Ankner said.
     The cost of buying the land to straighten out those problems would be "prohibitive," he said.
     THE FINAL FRONTIER in truck safety may have nothing to do with trucks, trucking companies or truck drivers.
     That's because a key factor in truck crashes is drivers of other vehicles, namely passenger car drivers.
     The Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration says that nearly 82 percent of passenger vehicle drivers in truck-car collisions are cited for factors suspected of causing crashes; only 26 percent of truck drivers are cited.
     David J. Osiecki, who is in charge of safety for the American Trucking Association, calls the conflict between cars and large trucks a "neglected" safety issue.
     "You can tell people not to jump in front of a truck and slam on the brakes," Osiecki said, "but if you don't enforce it, people will do it again."
     Osiecki said solutions might include increased police patrols, and perhaps cameras that track motorists' behavior.
     Murray, of AAA, said there's no doubt of the conflict and distrust between truckers and motorists. About 85 percent of club members believe truck size and weight should not be increased. The club warns members to be careful around trucks.
     "We preach to our members to respect trucks and get out of the way," Murray said. "There is no percentage in truck-car road rage. It is better to get out of the way."
     In fact, the auto club has "sharing the road" brochures for its members, warning them about the "blind" areas in which a truck driver cannot see a car.
     The truck squad has been cracking down on errant motorists, although its federally financed program doesn't generally allow for routine patrolling of cars.
     The squad's commander, Lieutenant Giardina, said that an analysis of figures for the past nine months shows that the squad cites far more truckers than motorists. But it has been writing up passenger car drivers, too.
     The squad's cruisers "clocked" 87 passenger vehicles for speeding. And it cited 21 cars, but only 14 trucks, for making improper lane changes.
     Giardina would like to see more of his unit's pursuit vehicles — it uses marked and unmarked vehicles — equipped with TV cameras.
     This would allow the truck squad to build solid cases against errant motorists, he said, showing how a car might cut suddenly in front of a fast-moving truck, or tailgating a big rig.
     But trucking critics say that this focus on cars is, in part, a blame-the-victim argument.
     Motorists are terrified by big trucks, and rightfully so, said Scippa of CRASH, which claims 200 members in Rhode Island.
     He even questioned the "no zone" safety campaigns of the industry and government to warn auto drivers of danger spots on an 18-wheeler.
     "Where is this 'no zone?'" Scippa asked. "Well, it's almost everywhere! According to information issued by the trucking industry, you — the car driver — shouldn't be in front of the truck, in back of the truck or in the two lanes alongside the truck."
     Both truck and auto drivers share in the responsibility for safety, Scippa said, and the real problem is an industry system "that consistently places profits and productivity ahead of safety."
     BACK ON ROUTE 95, Trooper Furtado is watching and waiting, as 18-wheelers roar past.
     He keeps an ear to the CB radio, listening to himself described by the long-haul truckers, many with Western twangs to their voices.
     Furtado, who fancies himself as a back-yard mechanic, said his interest in trucking dates back to when he used to accompany high school friends who were truckers.
     Much of Furtado's work is cat-and-mouse. If the CB radio broadcasts a message from a trucker asking for directions around a truck squad outpost, the unit will hunt for the truck on the alternate route.
     'It's possible the word is out, that if you go into Rhode Island, drive right and be careful," Furtado said.
     But he said that truckers do not always see the truck squad as adversaries.
     Sometimes, the truckers will deliberately contact the squad, Furtado said.
     "Sometimes I'll be sitting on the side of the road, and a guy will pull up behind and say 'Trooper, can you help me. I've written this and this up, but the company won't listen.'"
     What the driver wants Furtado, said, is to have his truck inspected, and the company put on notice to have dangerous defects corrected.
     It's at least one thing beside the highway that drivers of cars and trucks have in common: neither wants to have anything to do with a dangerous truck.




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