THE CARRIER CHRONICLE

Scurrying to deliver newspapers, carriers braved unleashed dogs, faced extremes in weather, and struggled with huge loads. For the large Sunday edition, porched before 5:00 a.m., youngsters needed a wagon to relieve their slim body from 40 to 50 pounds of papers. Today’s epidemic of obesity contrasts with newspaper carriers’ serious weight problem: the heavy canvas bag slung over one shoulder. Walking a three mile route every day or bicycling ten miles on gravel streets, a child trimmed his torso and his play time, disciplined by the daily routine.

From shy sensitive tykes to sly sneaky rascals, the characters congregated at a green shack waiting for bundles of papers, often shouting, spitting, slugging, smoking and socializing. Ink-smeared paperboys became friends, and friends with congenial customers. The little merchants associated with local businessmen as they disbursed papers to barber shops, bakeries, cafes. Evocative smells, sounds of factory whistles, trains, church bells, sights that distinguished communities in times past, reveal more details by the carriers than the data of census collectors. The paperboys chatted with elderly ladies, with hospital patients, folks on boathouses and in houses of ill repute. As humorous as the comics, as heartening or horrific as headlines, the stories carriers from yesterday divulge belong on the front page.

Saying “Yes ma’am. Yes sir.” to his superiors, the newspaperboy answered to a multitude of adults with the common sense to hold his tongue. He absorbed an array of antics by customers who avoided his weekly collection. These mere boys in men’s boots can readily recall those who paid and tipped generously as well as the “sonofabitch who still owes $5.50.” They worked for pennies of profit, accumulated dimes for sweets and managed to save dollars for school clothes, a first car, and college tuition. Offered incentive contests, kids won remarkable trips on boats, trains, even planes that transported young dreams beyond the close community.

From Alaska to Florida, Maine to California and all the towns in between, legions of children sailed newspapers across porches, maybe through a window. Always hustling, paperboys darted along an alley, over street car tracks and railroad tracks, dodged traffic, raced down steep hills, across lawns, stumbled in World War II blackouts. Morning and evening they dashed everywhere.

With an image of a friendly Norman Rockwell character, the young paperboy resided in the heart of American towns. Yet, like old yellowed newspapers, details are fading from what these boys and girls enjoyed and endured while learning lifetime lessons.

If you were a newspaper carrier or remember one who delivered to your home in the 1920 to 1970 era, please share your tales. Recall the adventures and participate in preserving this neighborhood history that reverberates throughout the United States.

Contact: Sandra Walker, papercarrier@verizon.net