Who would think that a paper route would be anything but boring, but
in many ways it was not. Now my route was not a newspaper, It was a shopping news. Oh there was some news on the front page,
but mostly it was advertising, and it was a very thick and heavy paper. I wanted to have a regular route with the Tribune,
but all those routes were taken. A Tribune route delivered about sixty papers a day, every day of the week.
I thought I could use my new bike, but when I saw the bundles I knew
it was too much even for three trips back to get more papers. My Dad helped me with the car, and dropped off some papers every
few blocks. It was dark when I finished.
In a short time my Dad made a wooden cart for me, it could hold all the
papers inside, but I would have to walk and push the cart. It was my first job !
After I got used to my route, I began to notice the empty bottles that
I could pick up, and turn in at one of the stores along the way, and make a little money to buy an ice cream bar. After a
while, I had cleaned up all the neighborhoods, and now I missed my treat. Then I saw a whole bunch of bottles as I was taking
papers to the house in back of the grocery store. I realized that they had already turned in for credit, but had not been
picked up yet.
I slipped a couple of bottles in my paper-bag, and the walked in the
store to deliver the paper, turn in the bottles, and buy an ice cream bar.
I did that twice, but did not feel good about it, so I never cheated
them again. There were some friendly dogs that liked to play or be petted, and then there were a couple that were mean, I
gave tem plenty of room, and made no threatening moves. After a few months, they no longer looked up when I passed by.
Near the end of my route, and far from home, there was a gang that I
tried to avoid. I kept a watch ahead, and if I spotted them, I would wait peering around the corner, or going another direction.
But one night they surprised me, stepping out from an alley. There were four of them, and they walked right up to me and grabbed
my paper-bags to hold me. “Hey kid, where are you from?” I meekly told them, “I live on thirteenth ave,
and I’m doing my route,” Then I think they noticed the bags said shopping news on the, so they kind of calmed
down, and said “bye” in a joking way, and left. I bet they thought I was collecting for the Tribune, and might
have some cash on me.
From my neighborhood we could see “German hill”, as we called
it, we talked about the old house on it as being haunted, and it was on my route! It looked like the house on “The Munsters”.
Sometimes I would be running late, and have to pass by that house at night, I walked very quietly down the drive-way to deliver
a paper to the house in the back, and sometimes would not deliver at all! But I never saw a soul at any time, just a feeling
of being watched.
Every two weeks I got paid, and I gave the money to my Mom to help out
with the groceries. It made me feel like I was helpful to the family, an I got to have the adventures.
