Monday through Friday I had about 35 customers.
Saturday maybe 10 more.
Sunday's about 70.

It had to be brutal hard rain to get driven. Rarely did I ask.

I walked carrying the papers. On Sundays I had a newspaper wagon with corral wood sides. In deep snow I pulled a sled.

There were times my hands were so cold I would go to delivery trucks and hold the exhaust pipe with my gloves.

I would get back on M-F and shovel the driveway so my father could get out. Then go to school.

Honestly, I was glad to have the route. It put money in my pocket. I bought stuff I wanted. Clothes etc. It made me fiercely independent.
I wanted to provide for myself. My home life was fine. My parents wonderful. I just felt it was up to me to make things happen. If I wanted something. I felt it was up to me to pay for it. Hard work and doing things for yourself was part of how I was raised.

I can't count the number of jobs I have had starting with that paper route. I paid my way through college. I worked when I was in school. I worked summer jobs. I did tons of temporary work. Worked during Christmas breaks. I worked in factories, bars, painting, landscaping, construction, labor, ranch work, airports, sales.

Once I bought a suitcase full of turquose and silver Indian jewlery in New Mexico. Brought it back to Cleveland and sold it to stores before Christmas.
Went to Juarez, Mexico bought a van load of Indian blankets and sold them in the Albuquerque flee market.
Crazy, when I think back on all that.