Wednesday, July 20, 2011

The Life and Times of a 1948 Paper Boy


World War Two had just ended it was the summer of 1948, I was eleven year old and life couldn't look any better. It was a time when right was right, good and bad were different. Kids like myself felt like if they wanted any spending money they had to go and work for it. So, this is not about just me. It is more about a time. Maybe it was just the start of growing up and breaking away from home and parents.

Even in 1948 there were some forms of child labor protection laws. One of these was you had to be twelve before you could get working papers. The office we had to go and apply was over on (8th) and West Street. The building was gray and taller than it was square. So, in would go these young guys and confront the necessary clerks trying to obtain working papers. Now, this was no problem if you were 12. However, I was 11 and thereby hangs this tale.

To get a paper route it helped to know someone who had one. My cousin Bob was 2 years older and already had his own business delivering papers. One day he mentions there was an open delivery route and that I should go right away and get it. I did. I walked up to 2nd and Lincoln Street to the "Paper House" and met with Mr Maurice Bogia, Sr. He said, "OK, but show me your working papers." Didn't have any so I lied and said they were being processed and he believed me. I got my first paper route business at 11. Delivering the Wilmington Evening Journal for $0.03 cent per paper. That was the total cost, I got 1 cent.

Remembering back, Mr Bogia had a "Paper House" over on McDowell Street when our family lived at 1022 McDowell. And, I remember the paper truck he had bringing in the papers each day for distribution by the paper boys. So, maybe he remembered me. I finally turned 12 late Oct 1948 and got my working papers which made me legal. But for those intervening 4 months I constantly stalled when asked about the working papers.

So, what happens in the life of a Paper Boy? What you do is every single day 6 days a week you report to the "Paper House" You hang out with the other kids telling lies, flipping baseball cards, tossing pennies. When the delivery truck arrives you help unload it onto the floor of the paper house. Mr Bogia sorts through the numbered bundles and calls out your name, then you pick up your bundle of papers for packing. My routes usually ran about 55 - 60 paper daily. Flip the bundle up on the steel tables take off the wire binding, place the bundle on your packing strap, cinch it up and strap the whole thing over your shoulder. You could tell a long time paper boy by the lean he had from carrying that load everyday.

Now remember. Every day, six days a week, 52 weeks a year. Sun, rain, heat, cold, sleet, snow, sick, well, you went. If you wanted to keep your job. We got that training from our parents who taught us the importance of work. Now most of the paper routes were not next door to the paper house. No, the paper house was located at 2nd and Lincoln Street and my first customer was at 5th and Springer Streets. 7 blocks. We must have looked like little mules hauling those loads to their destinations. Plus we made $0.01 cents per paper delivered. Back then you had to walk your route. My first route was pretty condensed up in the "Flats". I walked 6 blocks and then walked home to 2nd and Bayard Avenue 3 blocks. You didn't see a lot of obese kids in those days. 21blocks a day every day. And, I might add we also walked to and from school each day.

As I said wind, rain no matter people wanted dry papers. So, we had to sometimes walk up on the porches and put them out of the weather. The other neat trick we learned was how to fold the paper for throwing. You ripped a paper from the bundle you were carrying on your back, folded, threw and withdrew another. And, in the summer heat the ink bled into your clothes and no one complained.

The only good thing about Thursday was Friday and Saturday were next. The Thursday paper was brutal. I don't remember the exact number of pages but it was "thick". Most of the ads for the weekend and payday were in the Thursday paper. Your bundle protruded way out past your back.

Friday was a slim paper and collection day. Payday. So, you finished your route and took your customer cards and hole punch to go an collect the weekly charges. As I said 3 cents a paper times 6 days = 18 cents for the week. About half the people would be home to pay you and that meant going out again on Saturday morning to scavenge the rest. Some folks were very kind and would give you twenty cents and let you keep the change. Some were monthly, so you had to be an accurate bookkeeper as well as a mule.

Now the collection was important because you had to settle up on Saturday before Mr Bogia would give you next weeks papers. Aha! Responsibility, accountability without parental messin about. Fifty papers times two cents times 6 days meant you had to come up with $6.00 every Saturday. Mr Bogia did not want to hear who did not pay you yet. If you wanted to continue your business you had to, every Saturday come up with what you owed your business partner, or else. Looking back the News Journal had a good deal to. Of the $9.00 we collected we got to keep $3.00 and the balance $6.00 went to them and the distributor.

I could elaborate on livid events over the 6 years I ran my business as a Paper Boy. I will try to do that. Again, it was a time not me. Other kids did exactly what I did under the same conditions. Our parents didn't have money to just throw around, so if we wanted to go to a movie, buy a soda etc., we had to come up with our own money.

I'll say this, that as I became successful in life,a lot of what I learned as a paper boy helped me to get where I am today. Stay tuned for the next edition




Friends,

I hope this glimpse of a time that was is inspiring to you. The other jobs were wagon delivery at the A&P on Friday night and Saturday morning. Pin Boy and Caddy, whatever we could get. It wasn't the person it was the time. When we graduated from High School we right into the military. The Korean war was going on and most of us were 17-18 years old.

I have tried to put more of this in blogs and Squidoo pages which i will list http://www.squidoo.com/streetgames-1940
http://www.squidoo.com/1022mcdowellstreet

So, for answers to cellphones of the 40's, relievio, kick the can and monkey tag pay us a visit.





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