Barry Sheeder is eager for the day when he is able to sit on his porch and feel the sun on his face.

Diabetes has ruined his kidneys and robbed him of his sight, but the Singer Hill resident will be able to tell if a truck passes by.

A trucker for 30 years, Sheeder knows the sound of a big rig and can even tell what’s under the hood.

He has his favorite, of course.

“An International,” he said. “Cause they’re roomy.”

Life is difficult these days for the 68-year-old former member of the U.S. Navy.

He has had diabetes for 20 years and gets dialysis every evening.

“It’s pretty tough, especially not being able to see. And I’m extremely weak,” he said.

But he is looking forward to better weather so he can make it to Pittsburgh, where it is hoped a procedure will restore some vision in one eye.

He does not pity himself – nor does he blame anyone but himself.

“I didn’t eat right and got no exercise,” he said honestly. “I got a little heavy.”

The disease forced him to quit his job. He had racked up about 3 million miles by then, Sheeder estimated.

These days “Silver Eagle,” as he was known over the CB radio, spends a lot of time thinking back over those miles on the road.

“I’ve got about a million truck driver stories,” he said. “And they’re all true. I don’t make stuff up.”

Sheeder knew since the age of 4 that he wanted to drive a big rig.

As a child, he often watched a deformed man deliver oil in his neighborhood.

“I was just fascinated that a guy like this could handle such a big rig,” he said.

After Sheeder did his Navy stint, he ran coal buckets locally for a time and was even a driving instructor for 18-wheelers.

“A lot of the people I taught were girls that weighed probably 100 pounds,” Sheeder said. “Some of them are better drivers than the guys.”

He also taught doctors, lawyers and dentists.

“They just wanted to learn to drive big rigs,” he said. “It was a challenge to them.”

Among one of his more unusual pupils was a 70-year-old retired schoolteacher.

“She shouldn’t have been behind the wheel of a kiddie car,” he said.

Most of Sheeder’s career, however, was as an “over the road” trucker.

He recalled an incident that happened when he was driving on the L.A. freeway.

His load of 50,000 pounds of tarpaper rolls had been loaded incorrectly and ended up rolling down the busy thoroughfare.

It was rush hour and thousands of cars were held up.

“Everyone was mad enough to kill me,” he said.

Sheeder said there were many lonely miles and so he often picked up hitchhikers.

He recalled picking up a young couple when the temperature hovered around 10 degrees.

When it came time for them to part ways, Sheeder couldn’t do it.

“I said to myself, ‘I can’t let these people go like this. They will freeze.’ So I said to them, ‘You guys stay with me tonight.’ ”

They shared a hotel room and in the morning he gave them money for breakfast before continuing on his journey.

Another time he picked up a young man in Arizona who had just been released from prison.

“I looked him over pretty good and he looked pretty safe to me,” Sheeder said. “I took him all the way to Las Vegas.”

The ex-con got a meal, some money and a New Testament from the trusting trucker.

Most of Sheeder’s miles were logged at night and at times it was a chore to stay awake.

“I’d wind the windows down and find myself a hillbilly station on the radio,” he said. “I would turn it up pretty high.”

When that didn’t work, Sheeder slapped himself in the face to stay awake.

“I would actually yell at myself, because I had to be someplace at such and such a time,” he said.

Safety was very important to Sheeder and despite the long hours on the road, he had no accidents on his record.

However, he had a few close calls.

Six times he was behind the wheel of a runaway rig.

One scary incident occurred on Chickaree Mountain at 4 in the morning when he had an 80,000-pound load of coal behind him.

“About a fourth of the way down the mountain, I applied my brake pedal and realized I had no brakes at all,” Sheeder recalled.

“I hit the dip at about 85.”

No vehicles were on the road at that hour and he was able to pull over when the truck slowed going up the other side of the hill.

“I just shudder to think what would have happened if there were cars in front of me.”

He had other frightening incidents – many in bad weather conditions.

“Fog was the worst,” he said. “Also black ice and freezing rain.”

Sheeder estimated he had driven through 35 states.

“Much of my driving was done at night, so I missed a lot of scenery,” he said. “But I say we live in the prettiest state in the union.”

If all goes well, he’ll be able to see it all again soon.