Treasures Hidden in Plain Sight

Carrier collects new friends and lifelong lessons.

MY DAD’S COUSINS Ruth and Ty Mayer owned one of two newsstands in Crestline. I started delivering papers for them in 1963, when I was 10.

I was one of several carriers. We delivered newspapers from the neighboring towns of Mansfield, Galion and Bucyrus, and a few of our customers took the two Columbus newspapers.

We started each delivery day folding the papers in the garage on a long counter or side table, standing on wooden soda pop crates to be at the right height.

We folded papers in squares, triples or longs, depending on the thickness. I do not recall any carrier reading a paper before folding it.

Part of the enjoyment of the job was socializing with the other carriers. On days when the newspapers were late getting to the newsstand, we fellows found creative ways to occupy ourselves—snowball fights in winter, for example. It frazzled Ruth Mayer’s nerves. She was quite talented at showcasing her emotions.

As a ballplayer, I was pretty accurate with my throws, but I dented the odd aluminum door and tossed a paper or two onto the roof. Oops!

I learned early on that if you treated your customers well, they were generous at Christmastime. Even throughout the year, several customers routinely gave me cookies or candy when I came by. The Oliphants served me hot chocolate as I warmed up inside their home on very wintry days.

Mr. Walker owned a gas station that became my regular pit stop. I’d buy a pop and a candy bar and sit down for a visit with him and his dog Lucky. Often, Mr. Walker would spring for my snack.

My most interesting customer was a resident in our local nursing home. I called her Grandma Gardner. She always looked forward to my arrival and I very much enjoyed seeing her. Her

100th birthday was a special day—she was the toast of the nursing home.

One day I entered Grandma Gardner’s room and her bed was empty. A thoughtful nurse took me aside and broke the news that Grandma Gardner had died. She was 104. That was my saddest day on the newspaper route. I always remember her birthday— March 4.

My newspaper days are some of my best memories. My customers were so kind; they helped me realize how special older people are to children.

I’m grateful to my Mayer cousins for giving me the opportunity to work for them for five years. The job taught me to be responsible and considerate of others.

It is rather sad that in today’s world, paperboys are no longer necessary.