Life in the Sault
For an ambitious paperboy, post-war Sault Ste. Marie was an ideal place
When our family moved from Kirkland Lake, Ont., to the Sault in July 1945, my brother Harold and I suddenly had a larger community at our door step. Quickly we discovered that within a short distance from our house there was whole new world and we were determined to explore it.
The entire community was our playground and summer was the most exciting time to enjoy it. Our parents would tum us loose after breakfast with only one rule to keep in mind: “Be home for meals.” With that admonition in mind, we would set out on our carefree adventures. One day we might wander the main street, talk to the merchants and stare at the wonderful things that peacetime prosperity had placed in the windows. Another day might be spent at the docks when the Noronic, Assiniboia or Keewatin arrived and we would wander on board, greeting passengers and crew as we learned of the world of southern Ontario.
At a time when there was no worry about security, we would meander into the Provincial
Air Services hangar and see the workers repairing the De Haviland Tigers or Gypsy Moths. At rare intervals we would see that marvelous new airplane— the Beaver.
Determined to participate in the economic boom that was taking place, I became a paperboy distributing The Sault Star. On a weekly basis I delivered the paper to my customers and collected 18 cents, of which I was entitled to keep three cents.
Some weeks I earned nearly a dollar—i was rich, indeed!
Harold was only five at the time, and not old enough to have a paper route, so I set him up as a street seller. I would purchase five papers for ten cents total and stand him on a busy corner on Queen Street. He was to sell the papers for three cents each, but many people would hand over a nickel and tell him to keep the change. On some days, he would earn almost as much as I did with my route.
The newspaper venture whetted our appetite for another entrepreneurial adventure. One day, Murray Davis of Davis Clothing Store asked if we would wash the store windows. My brother and I agreed to be there every Saturday morning. Word spread to the other merchants and before long we had arranged to do the windows for Friedman’s Clothing Store and Thomas Photography, too. Word spread some more and soon we had enough work to engage our friends as well.
The Sault in the late 1940s was a great place with great people at a great time. The experiences gained have helped to shape my adult life.