My being a paper carrier started in 1936 at the age of 12. This was in the heights of the depression and although times were tough, I had no real idea of just how tough. But I did know that if I was to get any new or "acceptable" clothes or anything else for which I had a hankering, and these things were becoming more important as this was the last of my pre-teen years, that I was on my own. I heard from someone, and at this time I have no recollection of whom, about having a paper route. As they had suggested I visited the local sub-station (distribution center) which was a shanty behind a local drug store, and signed on as a substitute. This sub-station had about 25 to 30 carriers and a substitute is one that is available to fill in for any of the carriers with assigned routes that were unable to perform on any one day. They maintained a list of about 5 substitutes and their duties were to show up at the sub-station and be available if needed, which resulted in being called on once or twice a week.

The paper was the COLUMBUS DISPATCH (which is still printing), an afternoon daily and Sunday (am) for Columbus, Ohio. There was also a daily early morning paper called the Columbus Journal (which is no longer in print), but I am not a morning person and so I signed on with the Dispatch.

The measure by which a substitute was rated was reliability with the most reliable being assigned the next route that became available. Understanding the game is always the first matter by which to apply one's self. So I was very dependable and in that way I was able to be assigned the next available route.

Once a carrier was assigned a route it was his (and the thought of a female carrier never crossed anyone's mind) until he turned it back or did a bad job and was fired. Trading routes so as to have one that was closer to home, or for almost any reason, was permitted. So it wasn't too long until I had route B-3 in which B stood for Bexley, the community in which I lived, and 3 stood for 3, which was the most wealthy part of Bexley -- in which I didn't live - my home was about a mile away.

My route had customers that ranged from the biggest to the smallest. At the big end, one customer had a house that had a polo field in the back and involved dropping off a paper at the front door, one at the back door for the cook, and one at the garage for the yardman/chauffeur. At the other end of the spectrum there were a few small houses that took the daily paper only. The Sunday paper cost 10 cents and all they would allow themselves to have was the daily - thus my weekly collection was for 6 cents. (this was in the depression)

The most unusual customers were the 17 Catholic Priests at a local Seminary that was on the route. This involved entering and distributing the papers to 17 of their rooms. This enabled a quick drop off of some of the weight of the papers, and enabled warming up in the winter and cooling off in the summer. In addition to these respites, the Priests were fascinating fellows with whom I had many enjoyable conversations..

B-3 had about 100 customers and the economics for a carrier were simple. The daily paper sold for 1 cent (remember that this was in the depression) and the Sunday was 10 cents. The carrier paid ½ cent for the daily paper and 8 cents for the Sunday, and had a profit of ½ cent on the daily and 2 cents on the Sunday.

Thus with 100 customers I would be making 50 cents a day and on Sunday a full $2 and my weekly earnings would be $5 -- each and every week, week after week, month after month. WOW. I had found a gold mine.

I always had earning from grass cutting, car polishing, and other spasmodic but chancy sources, but now I had $5 a week that could be counted on AND still have the chancy other sources.

The carrier had a further duty beyond just carrying, and that was to collect from the customers. Because of the times many routes had difficulty, but B-3 had none. Collecting was always a cheerful undertaking and over time each customer became a brief chatting event. My nature is upbeat and chatting was natural, although there are always some grouches to cope with - which I considered a challenge. But even the grouches can be brought around if they are smothered with service and attention.

Bob Coulter, now deceased, was a buddy and had the morning Journal route for the same area as B-3. We generally made our collection rounds together and I would call out "Collecting for the Dispatch" and Bob would immediately follow with "and the Journal" to which everyone generally laughed, except for the grouches, of course, which was our work in progress.

Although we had friendly relationships with our customers, it was natural and never by design, except for the grouches. However, it should be noted that collecting was most lucrative at Christmas time.

Jimmy Dixie was another of my buddies (also now deceased) and he too was a paper boy. He also carried the Dispatch and his route was in the area between B-3 and our homes.. We generally arranged to meet at a rendezvous point at the end of our routes and ride a follow-the-leader course with our already tired legs -- but we were young and nutty. Our bicycles were never designed to do what we did with them and, suffice it to say, if we were kids today, with what we knew about bicycle flying capabilities, we would be flying and jumping with the best of them.

An additional little item that provided sophistication to my paperboy education was the learning of a new language. You might be thinking of some language that evolved from the Latin that we were studying in school. If you do, you are wrong. What I learned was a language called Alfalfa. I have no idea who thought it up. Who ever it was well before my time, but it was the only language used at the sub-station. If you couldn't speak Alfalfa you needed a translator until you could stand on you own.

Alfalfa is a slight double-talk that my daughter picked up with no difficulty. We use it on trips to irritate my wife, and it is very effective. Ilfit ilfiz velferry elfeasy tolfu ulfunderstalfand (it is very easy to understand) . At this point my compute is making funny noises - that as nulfoises to you Milfister Colfumpulfuter.

Alfalfa was a part of who we were, and it was and is important, even for paperboys with alfalfa, to be a part of something.

So for 6 years, the sixth grade through high school - the 12^th grade, I served B-3. As with the Post Office, "through snow, sleet and rain" (I think that is their motto) the B-3 papers were delivered. I did not have the time for extracurricular school activities and so I lost out on something there, but I think I learned a great deal more from the experience of being a paperboy.

To name a few --

Reliability and dependability (two peas in the same pod) are key to anyone doing anything with anyone other than themselves. I once asked Brad Curry, President of Rock-Tenn Company, a large paper recycling operation (I was on their board at the time) how he selected his future managers. He said simply that he looked for someone that does what he says he is going to do.

I feel in my bones that a constant and reliable flow of funds will beat a periodic bonanza every time. Stating it in a different way, a controlled consistent flow of earnings is much more stable than an uncontrolled bonanza unless you are a gambler, have significant staying power, and are lucky.

That inconvenience and difficulty of coping with freezing, heat, rain, snow, along with their variations, is a part of the cost of having a constant stream of earnings.

That formal record keeping of customer receivables and collections are more reliable than a persons recall – also that a loss of a collection loses not only the profit, but it also gives the customer free papers, at my cost.

That a friendly relationship with customers, and everyone for that matter, benefits one by eliminating possible ulcers (yours), and can provide for other benefits in the future in the most unexpected ways. Just be friendly – serve well -- be nice. Good fortune will find you.

And lastly -

That keeping a record of what one does with their money can provide the ability to relate the energy it took to earn that money, to the value derived from its expenditure.

The paperboys and routes of today are undoubtedly quite different from my time, but an inquisitive and determined young person can always find their equivalent to my paper route. Dont fool yourself, it is not easy. Self pity and a desire to quit are frequent visitors. But what can be learned from this kind of experience will bode one well for the rest of their life, and anyone obtaining this knowledge while still in high school should be entitled to, at least, a High School Masters Degree.