My First Almost Job – Paper Boy

My first steady income came from the job of being a paperboy at the age of 14 in Mobile, Alabama. It was during the summertime in the early 1950’s, that my friend David and I decided to go into partners working for the Mobile newspaper. The afternoon route we were given was in a poor section of town. It was just my bad luck that after we started, David went to Arkansas to vacation for the rest of the summer. I was left on my own. The route had about fifty subscribers which brought in about three dollars the first month; I gave a dollar to David when he returned because he had done some work. It did get a little better, but not much. The subscribers just didn’t pay for the paper when I came around to collect.

Every so often the newspaper company sponsored a contest for the paper boys to get as many new subscribers added to their routes as possible. I remember winning a large box of rubber bands for increasing my number of subscribers. I must not have done too good a job in the contest to win just a box of rubber bands, nevertheless that’s what happened. The rubber bands were used to hold the newspaper together when you threw it on the subscriber’s front porch. I found out later that on this particular route, people would take out a newspaper subscription for a contest, then not pay for the paper. As a consequence, the paperboy would stop deliveries, and then another paperboy would take over the route. Usually, the previous paperboy received a better paying route. The cycle repeated itself, some people got free papers and the paper boys got a “lesson in life”. At that time the daily subscription was twenty five cents and the Sunday paper a dime. I believe I made forty cents to the dollar.

I remember two particular incidents from that route. The first was the manner that a little old lady paid me each week. When I came to collect, she would pay me in all pennies that she had kept in a handkerchief held in place with a knot. She would untie the knot and count the twenty five pennies one at a time as she handed them to me. She was poor but she always paid on time.

The other incident was when I was making my weekly collections and a lady came to the door dressed in a brassiere and half slip. It got my attention because she was really built. Unfortunately, she said she didn’t have any money and for me to come back next week.

After three months with this route I was moved up to a larger and better paying route. I was making good money at the new route – about thirty dollars a month which was good money in those days for a teenager in high school. The only problem with this route was there were a couple of neighborhood tough guys which caused me to peddle my bike faster than normal when delivering.  I hear about bullies in the news these days and I can relate. We all go through it – there is always someone a little bigger, tougher and meaner than you.  Another time that I was almost beat up was as I was leaving from collecting money from one of my customer’s home. As I was leaving  I swung my leg around the seat to get on my bike and in doing so I accidently kicked a little boy near me whom I hadn’t seen. He started crying and a least a dozen people came out of his house. They were about to do me in, but I pleaded my case and they decided I was innocent and let me go unharmed. The Lord was looking after me that day.

There were times on cold Sunday mornings when one of my friends and I would use the  family car to deliver the papers. I didn’t have permission to drive it or a driver’s license and wasn’t that good a driver, but who cares on a cold Sunday morning at 4:30.  I would gather my newspapers for delivery and placed them in the canvas carrying bags. I then got on the hood of the car.  My friend drove (he wasn’t such a great driver either) through the route and I tossed the papers on the customer’s front porch. – sometimes knocking over a flower pot and causing havoc to the front porch. Luckily, the papers made their destination and I didn’t fall off the hood of the car.

The last route I had (before I retired to abject poverty) was in the neighborhood where I lived. I had approximately 120 subscribers and no tough guys or other things to worry about. I picked up the newspapers near a neighborhood drugstore and finished my deliveries in about two hours. I do remember how cold it was in the winter on Sunday mornings. When I was folding the newspapers I used rubber bands to keep them together for the tossing. Occasionally, the rubber bands would break and sting my cold hands. It was painful to say the least. It was also amazing how many papers I could carry on the handlebars of my Roadmaster bike. When there were not many pages in the newspaper and thereby a lighter load, I would ride my bike, fold the newspapers and throw them on the fly without getting off my bicycle. Thinking back that was quite a feat.

Once when delivering a Sunday morning paper in my neighborhood I saw a girl friend of my older sister on the receiving end of a long good night (or good morning) kiss. They were standing on the small steps that led into her apartment – it did add a little pizzaz to a dull morning of throwing papers, particularly since I’d never been kissed by anyone other than my mother. Another lesson in life related to the local barber. I went by to collect the money he owed me for the paper and he asked me where I had my haircut. I told him I went to so and so’s barber shop because they were good at giving flat top haircuts  He told me that he was going to quit subscribing to the paper because I didn’t get my haircut from him.  And he did quit.  Flat top haircuts didn’t work for me because I have a round head, so I lost all the way around.

After a year or so and upon getting my driver’s license, I decided to quit my job. Sports and girls were beginning to sway my interests. So after being a kid with money in my pocket, I reverted back to receiving an allowance from my mother. My income dropped drastically. All in all, I did learn about human nature and how to deal with money a little better. I wouldn’t trade the experience.

Nowadays adults drive cars around delivering papers and youngsters are out of the picture.

I’ve become a dinosaur.