 Night in a big city. A kaleidoscope turning to the rhythm of swing time till far beyond midnight. And then the rhythm changes. Playtime is over. Homeward bound. The end of an evening's fun for some. For others, the end of an evening's work. Bright lights are no longer bright. The streets become quiet. Even steel and stone lose themselves in the dark stillness. At last, the city is asleep. Or is it? A little part of the city is very much awake. Thousands of men, thousands of trucks, a life stream of any community, flowing tonight and every night, so that tomorrow morning the city will be able to carry on as usual. Men and trucks working while the city sleeps. Working so evenly, so smoothly, that they and the important things they bring are taken for granted. We couldn't easily exist without them. For they provide us with the very necessities of daily living. Down the highways that lead like arteries to the heart of every town, big and small, come the rolling wheels. Tomorrow, fresh fruit and vegetables will be needed. And in the country, ton after ton is loaded on trucks. Men city bound. Perishable cargo is rolling swiftly toward their destination. Tomorrow, fresh milk will be needed. And from country depots, trucks bring in thousands and thousands of gallons. Drivers working on schedule. So that milk, essential to the health of adults and little children, will arrive on schedule at the great city pasteurizing plants in the wee small hours. And moving forward steadily as the hands of the clock. A mighty flow of men and machines on every highway. So that you and I may have fuel for our cars tomorrow. So that you and I may read the newspapers tomorrow. So that tomorrow we may have electric power and fresh bread right out of the oven. The commodities we require. The luxuries we've become accustomed to. Fragile blossoms on the one hand. On the other. Building materials of every kind. Freight of every kind. That new automobile we ordered. Everything moving ahead on trucks. Nearly every necessity. Nearly everything that graces modern life. Rolling through the dark and into the dawn. Setting the stage for a new day that is almost here. And a very nice day it is too. For him, as for millions of others. There begins again the daily routine. An immediate flood of clear sparkling water. Commonplace. Not worth a second thought. But commonplace only because of careful maintenance. Because night after night watchful crews care for the giant pipelines. Keep the water flowing. Commonplace too, the electric toaster at the breakfast table. But behind the glowing coils are more men and more trucks in the night. Maintaining power lines. Doing difficult jobs that have to be done right. So that toaster's toast, percolator's perk and electricity is available for any use at any time. Let's look at this typical breakfast. Examine it more carefully and find out just how it got on the table. Orange juice. Of oranges arriving regularly from Florida or California. And there are trucks in the picture. Fresh cream. Rich and smooth. Carried a hundred miles only a few hours ago by truck. And these eggs. Direct from the farm. A truck brought them. Here's bacon that started for this table from a thousand miles away. Coffee and the sugar that goes with it. Both from far off places. And always trucks. Trucks. Trucks. Yes, every morning when people awake in big cities or in the smallest villages, they find markets crowded with good things to eat. Fresh good things brought by truck from every point on the map. Celery from California or Kalamazoo. Green vegetables from the green valleys of the west and the coastal plains of the east. Potatoes from New Jersey, Maine, Idaho, from the southwest or from up in Iowa or Illinois. Beef from Texas, Kansas, Nebraska. At the markets fresh food of every variety originating in a thousand places and at stores, fresh merchandise thanks to trucks. Household articles of all kinds originating in manufacturing plants throughout America. Refrigerators loaded in Ohio or Michigan or delivery in Oregon or Georgia. Furniture built in Chicago in Grand Rapids. Starting off by truck for New Orleans and Baltimore. Fabrics from the south. From the eastern seaboard. Clothing. Dresses from New York. Gloves from New England. Manufactured goods of every variety brought in by truck. And raw materials too. Products of the rich American earth. Backbone of America's industries. These two travel by truck. For where the truck is concerned, no job is too tough or too big. Powerful and sturdy. Convenient, economical, fast. No wonder trucks place a larger pot in carrying the nation's freight. And the Ford Motor Company, proud of having pioneered low cost personal transportation for millions is equally proud of the Ford V8 truck. Which brings to more millions at lower cost, the best things in life. For 20 years, Ford built trucks have played feature roles in the vital drama of transportation. A drama of machines and of men. Men who are courteous, efficient, courageous. Machines that are dependable. Together, trucks and the men who drive them are helping to maintain in America the highest standard of living the world has ever known.