My name is Patrick Truitt.
If you live around Barnwell, Williston, or Denmark, you’ve probably seen me. I’m the shaven-headed guy in a black handkerchief forehead sweatband, a dark blue polo shirt, gray sweatpants, and a pair of San Antonio Shoemakers sneakers that look older than they are (they're a year old, but they are the only shoes I had left the day I lost my housing). I'm the guy navigating our local roads at all hours of the day and night in a vintage silver 2004 Lincoln Towncar that is loud because the catalytic converter “went missing” and a front driver’s side that met an unsuspecting buck crossing the road in the middle of the night a month ago, dropping off your Walmart Spark orders and DoorDash deliveries.
Lately, the grind hasn't just been tough; it's been a cinematic trial by fire.
In the last few weeks alone, I’ve fought a failing engine idle through torrential downpours and ended up stuck in ditches after late-night shop and deliver runs, or mid-afternoon general merchandise deliveries to the outskirts of Norway, South Carolina, a place where locals will tell you that to survive out there, you need an intimate knowledge of the roads as well as going to the likes of Brunson and Gifford in Hampton County or even into the edge of Orangeburg County.
I’ve been pushed through that intersection with the "no turn on red" at the Hagood Ave light all the way down Patterson Street to the Bi-Rite Foods at the angled intersection going to SC-64 and Marlboro Rd/US-278 by a kind stranger in an old white Malibu after the Lincoln gave me that terrifying "absolute fumes" hiccup that ended up with the stalled “hey, you idiot, you’re out of fuel” full stall just as I was making a last second turn to quickly head to that gas station. He even blessed me with $20 out of his own pocket while I was drowning in a near-constant OnePay Advance cycle—a cycle I have to constantly draw from just to stay afloat and pay toward the hotel room I'm currently staying in.
And just when I thought I'd seen it all, I was rescued near the only Sunoco fuel stop, the Country Corner convenience store which had closed just as I arrived off SC-70 near Reedy Branch Road. It was a little after 10:15 PM, I had just finished the final delivery for the evening in Denmark and pulled into that gas stop and was met with "pump stopped" message after I saw the clerk leave in his car so I gambled on thinking I could make it all the way to Barnwell. A few yards from the station, the "out of gas" stall occured for a second time that week. Thankfully I was able to wave down a retired cop from Charleston by the name of Clinton Zimmer, who joked he was leaving a paper trail in case I was a murderer.
This isn't just a job for me; it's a daily battle for survival.
Right now, I am living out of the Winton Inn & Suites in Barnwell after losing my housing. That old Lincoln isn't just a classic land-yacht; it is my absolute lifeline. It is the only tool I have to pull myself out of this hole. But right now, the machine is winning. I am facing an immediate $256 emergency to prevent a title loan repossession. If they take the keys, the engine stops, the income stops, and the floor drops out from under me completely.
My total goal of $2,500 is designed to completely break the cycle. It will:
- Save the car from repossession immediately.
- Secure my room at the inn so I have a safe place to rest between shifts.
- And provide a small fuel and maintenance buffer so I don't have to face the empty-tank lottery on a dark country highway again.
I am not asking for a handout while sitting back. I am out on the blacktop right now, pushing this car and my own grit to the absolute limit to cover every cent I can on my own. But the margins in the gig economy are razor-thin, and the unexpected hits have caught up to me.
If you have a few dollars to spare to help keep a local driver on the road, it will directly keep a roof over my head and gas in my tank. If you can’t donate, sharing this with folks in the CSRA or local South Carolina groups means more than you know.
I’ll keep this page updated like a daily log from the front lines of the delivery route.
Thank you for standing by a neighbor who is doing everything he can to keep moving forward.
As always, have a blessed day, afternoon or evening.
Very kind regards,
Patrick Truitt