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Deliver a newspaper? What is that?








jk, we are both old.

Big name from yeeeeears ago.

May you rest in peace Mr. Sam Huff

No disrespect to Sam Huff - he was a fine MLB - but I have read that his legend was highly burnished by the New York media where he played. MLBs ruled the 60's defenses, and Ray Nitschke (Packers), Joe Schmidt (Lions), Dick Butkus (Bears), Tommy Nobis (Falcons), to name a few, were better than Huff, according to what I read. Sorry I can't cite the source, but I read it years ago.

That said, RIP Sam Huff.

If anyone kids you about this they just have no clue. Not sure how you got around in bad weather, but my parents or siblings did not drive me for my route. It is nasty on a bike or on foot in the deep winter. I respect the heck out of you for having the ambition and determination to do these things and stick with them. Did this myself from about age 8 - 12. Plus my "paper" was a weekly publication call GRIT out of Pennsylvania. I did not have a dedicated route so I have to take a stack into bars and restaurants every 2 hours on the weekends to sell. One advantage was the Grit company also gave prizes as you accumulated sales. I ended up with nice baseball gloves and a catcher's mask and mitt. The mitt was better than our local rec department's so all the kids wanted to borrow mine come game time if they were the catcher.

It was hard for me to stay motivated because I was only given a dime (a quarter as I got older ) of my earnings to spend weekly. The rest went into a bank in my mom's drawer to pay for school clothes & shoes or money for our annual town festival. She would also put it in the local bank as the balance got up there. Frustrating for me but I was able to buy a car at 18.

Short story turned long. Sorry to derail, the old "paper route" always takes me back.

The Cleveland Press set the tone for me to be a lifelong entrepreneur. So many lessons learned; responsibility, customer service, taking care of the cash, and yes -- dealing with the elements. When the city started it's great desegregation effort I was in seventh grade and getting bused across the city every day. The city was short on buses so my school day didn't start 'til 9:50... and I didn't get home 'til 5:00 or so. Once the school year started, I checked with every customer and let them no that the paper would be pretty late and offered to turn them over to another route close to mine, only one person cancelled. Days turned to night early and I was out in the frigid cold, dark, and howling wind on many days.

I had a couple Polish bars on my route and the old geysers in those places loved me. Many times I'd walk in out of the cold and see a Hot Chocolate waiting. "Got any extras?" Yes, I always had a few extras for sale, I added them to my order and usually sold all of them. Most of the old geysers would give me a quarter or fifty cents for a 15 cent paper. One dude would usually throw me a buck and say "keep the change, kid". All of my customers tipped well because I made sure the paper was exactly where they wanted it. Most paper boys were throwing papers at a porch, I was sliding them under a door. Christmas tips were always well over $100.

Those extra papers would come in handy because any new customers would get papers without me making them "actual" customers... 'til contest time came around lol. Once I had my bike stolen. I hustled my butt off and started signing up new customers. So many that I had to buy a few extra papers out of pocket for a couple weeks. The last few contests had a new bike as grand prize. Sure enough, the next one did too... and it was mine.

There was one old, grouchy, disabled lady on my route. I was nice as could be no matter how rude she was. She complained about what time I got there, complained if I knocked too hard (her request), complained if I didn't knock hard enough. One day she asked why I hadn't billed her for a couple weeks. She had been sick at the time. I told her I figured I would pick up the tab for a couple weeks since she was having a hard go of it. Soon I was bringing the paper in the house, heating up her tea, etc... I'd sit there every day and talk to her for a few minutes; she was lonely. She was always angry about one thing or another but I usually succeeded in getting her to cheer up and would get an occasional laugh out of her.

The last delivery before Christmas there was a note on the door for me. I knocked and there was no "come in". I opened the envelope and there was a note explaining that she had to cancel because she was going into a nursing home. She thanked me for taking such good care of her and told me I was like "the son she never had". I knocked again, no answer. There were tears in my eyes as I stared at a crisp $50 bill. I wanted to give it back. I think she knew that, so even the following week -- knock, knock, no answer. I never saw her again, she was gone and the house was for sale within weeks.

Life lessons for sure.

I would look for the gray "smoke" coming from the dryer vents of my customers... lol. Good times!