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READ ALL ABOUT IT
By Ed Stout
There is a classic country song that begins with the line, “I sell the
morning paper, sir. My name is Jimmy Brown.” This, however, is not about my
all-time favorite running back. Instead, it’s a few random paragraphs about
my time delivering Dayton’s morning paper, The Journal-Herald (“JH”).
As many of you will remember, there were two general circulation papers in
Dayton area, the Dayton Daily News (“DDN”) and the JH. The DDN was the
preferred route for several reasons. First, more people subscribed to that
paper. As a result, it was easier to deliver because virtually everyone on
the street “took” the DDN. It was also more lucrative both because of the
number of customers and the fact that it went to press seven days a week
(afternoons except on Sunday, which was a morning paper). The JH, on the
other hand, was a six day a week morning route, with fewer customers. Still,
it had its advantages in that you got your papers done first thing in the
morning, which left the afternoons free.
The DDN route was harder to get but obtaining a JH route wasn’t easy. You
had to prove yourself in some ways. There were basically two ways to prove
yourself. You could be a “sub” or you could “hawk” papers. Being a sub was a
hassle because there were a lot of different routes to learn and you
couldn’t really plan on anything. Also, there were horror stories of DDN
subs who spent two years waiting before being offered a route of their own.
There is one thing I need to say right here and that is having a Dayton
Shopping News route was not a way to prove you were route-worthy for either
the DDN or the JH. The Shopping News was an advertising circular that was
“delivered” once a week to all houses in the greater Dayton area. The
Shopping News route consisted of being paid $1.25 to “deliver” 10,000 or so
“papers” once a week. Suffice it is to say that many of those papers didn’t
get delivered. For example, I have seen the creek behind Loos School dammed
up with Shopping News that were merely dumped there. So instead of being a
plus on one’s resume, as it were, a former Shopping News route was a black
mark. As far as the DDN and JH distributors were concerned, you simply
couldn’t overcome the presumption that you, like many of your brethren, were
a creek dumper.
So with that background in mind, early in my 8th grade year, I got word to
someone, I can’t remember who, that I wanted a JH paper route and I would be
willing to “hawk” papers. Before long, a JH General Manager contacted me and
said that in a couple of months there would be a sixty-some customer route
available in my neighborhood. He went on to say that if I was willing to get
up each morning and hawk papers on the street, he would consider me for that
route. I agreed. So for two months, I went to the northwest corner of
Nottingham Road and North Main (in front of the Frisch’s and across from the
Parkmore Drive-Ins). There, I would hold a paper out (maybe shake it a
little bit) as cars driven by factory workers who were en route to Delco or
NCR would proceed along North Main. Every once in a while, one would stop,
hand me a dime and I’d give him a paper. I’d stay there over an hour and
usually sell about thirty papers. It was not much money but I did it long
enough to prove myself to the distributor. As a result, I was given a sixty
customer route east of North Main between Redwood Street and Nottingham
Road.
For the next two years, about 4:00 each morning, I would
go to Dean Morey’s (FHS ’65) house. His mother, a kind but no-nonsense woman
who I knew only as Mrs. Morey, was in charge of the neighborhood JH paper
boys. Papers came in at 3:45 and she expected you no later than 4:30. I
would usually get there shortly after 4:00 a.m. and she would count out my
papers, then I was on my way. At first, I rode my Schwinn but I soon
discovered I could do it just as fast by walking, except that is on
Thursdays, when the papers were simply too heavy to carry.
The bare minimum for a JH route was about fifty customers. Otherwise, it
simply wasn’t worth getting up in the morning. As mentioned, I had sixty
customers to start and eventually built up to around eighty. It would take
me approximately an hour and a half walking around in the dark to deliver
the papers. But that wasn’t the end of it. You also had to collect. Some
customers were kind enough to leave the weekly payment in a mailbox or milk
box. (It is incredible to me that I lived in a time when delivering these
papers I could see Meadow Gold or Borden’s milkmen on their daily routes.)
But most customers would not do this and I had to go around weekly to
“collect.” Sometimes there were these kind of conversations:
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
“Collect for the Journal Herald.”
“Son, didn’t my wife already pay you?”
“No, sir.”
“I think she told me she did, I’d better check. You come back next week.”
“Yes, sir.”
If those kind of conversations took place too often, that customer was cut
off.
Dayton used to get cold in the early 60’s, and the weather was often a
problem. The thing I remember most is the snow and the crunchy footsteps in
the dark. I also remember the magnificent display the Dayton bus system put
on. You will recall that Dayton had electric buses. (One FHS student
referred to them as “yellow bananas.”) When a snow or ice storm hit, the
power lines would freeze. As the bus came down its route, the long pole
connected to the power line would give off blue flames. It was a beautiful
sight to see. In the dead of winter I wore a dark wool mask with only my
eyes visible. In other words, I looked a lot like a bank robber. If it was
really cold, which was often the case, the dark mask would freeze and turn
white by the time I’d finished my route. I resembled a refugee from a Green
Bay Packers title game.
I can’t remember delivering papers in the rain but I’m sure I did. (I think
the psychological term for that is “blocking.”) The Dayton Journal bags had
a flap that would cover the papers and they had an oil coating which served
to repel the rain. I clearly knew nothing about Gore Tex, NorthFace or
Patagonia but somehow I managed to keep both myself and the papers dry.
Today, if an 8th grade boy walked around for an hour and a half in the dark
in a city, his parents would probably be reported to social services. But I
did that every morning without any harmful consequences. I do recall one
time that I was really scared. I was walking on a little side street between
Nottingham Road and Castlewood Drive. It was pitch dark, as Dayton wasn’t
known for putting in a lot of street lights. I was approaching a house where
I knew a man had committed suicide. Then, for the first time in my life, I
heard the terrible screech of cats mating. When I heard it, I jumped – I had
no idea that what I was hearing. After a moment of sheer terror, it occurred
to me that it was merely a couple of cats having fun. Still, I’ve never
forgotten that moment.
I kept the route for about two years. As I remember, I made roughly $10 a
week. I do recall that I opened a savings account at Citizens Federal
Savings & Loan in the Northtown Shopping Center. I saved approximately $140.
Eventually, by the time I finished high school, the entire savings was gone.
I probably spent it on Gant shirts and the like.
Most of my papers I folded and threw on customers’ doorsteps. There is an
art to folding a newspaper and based on the paper I currently receive every
morning, I think it is a lost art. The paper must be folded into thirds from
the open side to the closed side. The final fold is placed inside the closed
side. The most important thing, however, is a paper is folded from the side
and not from the top. The paper I receive every morning is very, very
difficult to read because it is folded from the top. Also, my current paper
is folded in a rubber band. Mrs. Morey and the JH didn’t give us rubber
bands; we were expected to fold those papers. With a properly folded paper,
you simply didn’t need a rubber band. Moreover, a properly folded paper
could be thrown a long distance with great accuracy.
It’s been nearly fifty years since I first began that route. I know that
Dayton no longer has the JH. I’m not certain if the DDN is delivered in the
morning or the afternoon but I expect that things are done differently now.
I know that I can read the DDN, or the Washington Post for that matter, with
a click of my computer mouse. Even more amazing is that I can click on my
Kindle e-reader and the New York Times comes to me magically through the
air. One final thought - each morning when I finished my paper route, I’d go
to the Mister Donut on North Main and for 20 cents, I got a chocolate milk
and a peanut donut. I’d have to wash my hands first though, because after
delivering those papers, my hands were black.