RICH FOUNTAIN — Herman “Tubby” Mebruer was born in Rich Fountain in 1935. In Buck Owens’ words, his father was a “Truck-Drivin’ Man.” He started in the business as soon as he could, becoming a truck-drivin’ man himself. He raised a truck-drivin’ son, who in turn raised a truck-drivin’ grandson. One of his daughters married a truck-drivin’ man. His time behind the wheel was interrupted by a stint in the Army between 1953-1956. They deployed him in France, in, what else, two transportation companies. He kept on truckin’ himself full-time until 2013 but still owns two working trucks. So he’s keeping more truck-drivin’ men employed.  

In the 1940s, about anybody in rural Missouri who owned any land at all dabbled in at least some farming. Plus, most farmers in those days moonlighted in other businesses. The Herman Mebruer Sr. family was no different. Mebruer handled many farm chores and was already driving “informally” for his dad by age 14. That also was not as unusual then as it would now be considered. 

However, the wake of World War II and the advent of the Korean conflict mattered to the family. Tubby’s older brother, Clarence, was deployed to Korea. That war was still raging when Tubby tried to enlist in the Marines at age 17. The Corps would have taken him, too, if his parents had signed off on the idea. They balked, though, choosing to wait until Clarence returned. When Tubby turned 18 and no longer needed parental permission, he didn’t wait. “I volunteered for the draft,” is how Mebruer put it. Looking back, there’s nothing he’s more proud of than his service to his country. 

Boot camp was at Camp Chaffee, Ark. He went to Europe in August 1954. Starting in the 98th Transportation Company, he finished in the 570th. He also was given standard infantry training. Before returning stateside to Fort Sheridan, Ill., in February 1956, he crossed the Atlantic Ocean twice by ship and twice by plane. Before 1956 was over, he was an inactive reservist for six years and was honorably discharged in 1962. By that time, he had seen five European countries and Canada.

Mebruer almost didn’t get out alive. While in France, he endured one of the saddest truths of war. More soldiers die of illness or infection from their wounds than as a direct result of being shot. Mebruer never saw combat, but he came down with pneumonia. He figures that happened as a consequence of soldiers sleeping a lot in flimsy shelters. “I just about lived in tents over there,” he said. 

That had to do before the infrastructure soldiers enjoyed in Europe a decade later. He was fortunate to survive and make a complete recovery.

Mebruer figures it was caused by striking camp one day while it was raining and he already had a cold. “I got real wet and then rode for two days in a ‘deuce-and-a-half,’” he said. 

Medics determined he wasn’t going to get well without serious medical help, so he switched from riding in the back of that M35 cargo truck to traveling in an ambulance. He was on his way to a field hospital similar to the one shown in the classic TV show M.A.S.H. It was basically a great big tent. There, the serendipity that can accompany world travel brought him back, in a way, to Osage County. The driver was Larry Morton of Linn. Having that acquaintance intervene in his illness was an encouragement. Morton, though, was the son of the Morton Funeral Chapel legacy. Mebruer, as sick as he was, had to wonder about that ride …

Upon re-entering civilian life, Mebruer immediately took up driving for a living. Like many, he toiled for several firms before taking the big plunge. He started his own company in 1976. He was looking more for independence than to spawn a vast corporation, as revealed by Mebruer’s Trucking’s current status as a two-truck operation. When his son, Mark, turned 18, it became Mebruer and Son. Then it never exceeded 14 trucks. Mark now runs Mebruer and Son, while Tubby remains independent, back to Mebruer Trucking. 

Mebruer has hauled many things just about everywhere. He’s been in all 48 contiguous states and occasionally sent trucks into Canada. His biggest customer now is Quaker Windows, and he’s hauled for them for quite a while. In previous years, he moved a lot of steel products and farm commodities, including livestock and oversized loads. Many drivers keep track of their career mileage, but Tubby Mebruer has no idea how many millions of miles he has logged. That’s not what interests him in the business. 

A driver’s career enabled him and his wife, Georgia, to raise Mark and six daughters, Mary Benson, Jeanne Neuner, Vicky Neuner, Amy Mebruer, Julie Shoop, and Nicky Bartlett. 

Georgia has always been a willing contributor to the enterprise. “I did the milking while he was gone,” she said. They later sold the cows, and she started a daycare business. 

Georgia also lays affectionate claim to one of Tubby’s prized antique trucks. More than a driver, he’s a bit of a truck historian and has collected four of them. While Georgia’s listening, he claims the 1984 International Eagle is his favorite. It’s her top choice and one she spent a lot of time in while he was able to take her along on several trips. As clean and straight as it’s ever been, it’s the only truck in his collection that he used in full-time service. Georgia now drives a 1998 Lincoln Town Car. It’s as clean and straight as Tubby’s collected trucks.

Jeanne’s tragic death from cancer in 1998 prompted Georgia to travel with her husband for three years. They purchased a 1996 International 9400 with a double-bunk sleeping berth in which to do that work. While it served the purpose better, it never replaced the 1984 Eagle in Georgia’s heart as her favorite truck. After three years in the 9400, Georgia came in off the road, and Tubby followed 12 years later. 

Besides Georgia’s Eagle, Tubby’s other three collectibles are projects he purchased and worked to restore. There’s a 1981 International Cabover and a 1964 International standard road tractor. Speaking of the ‘64, “it was junk when I got it,” he says. The one that wins the most prizes in parades is a 1949 International K Series straight truck. “I’m a ‘Binder’ man,” Mebruer explains, using the International loyalist’s slang term. 

Although all four are licensed as classics, they are roadworthy. “I wouldn’t be afraid to haul a load anywhere in any of them,” he said.

The whole family looks up to Tubby and his trucks. “I’m sure my sisters feel the same way,” said Mary Benson. “It’s just so cool to meet one of my dad’s or my brother’s trucks on the road. I’m so proud.” 

It is, with military service mixed in, a life worth remembering. Being tougher than most is an advantage on the road. Many drivers endure mortality at a much higher rate than the average population. Others take the first chance to retire or come in off the road to do something else. Mebruer is obviously an exception. “I still drive a little,” he said proudly. 

Some drive to live; others, like Tubby Mebruer, live to drive.