A little different story not Valk related,

[solo1]

As an old geezer, Christmas always brings out the memories of my kidhood.
This is one. (new)

                                           Christmas as a Kid, 1943.  

I grew up in Ft. Wayne ,Indiana.  In 1943 Ft. Wayne was a city of about 150,000.  I was 15 years old..
We were in our second year of World War II. It was the week before Christmas.  It was cold.  Many men were already in the Service.  Many women worked in industry.. I was working too.  I had a paper route . It was the morning paper.so that meant that I got up at 4AM each morning, walked to the bundle drop off point and loaded the latest news into two canvas carry bags, one for each shoulder.  Since my route had many apartments and homes with porches in the rear, I didn’t use my Schwinn balloon tired Excelsior bike. Getting on and off the bike took too much time.

I walked, in fact I walked two and a half miles each day.  On this particular day, it was about 15 degrees, cold enough for me to put my hands down into the bags and between the newspapers, to keep my hands warm enough to fold the papers so that I could lob each one hopefully onto the porches of my customers.. It was cold enough that my nose kept pinching together, and my breath was starting to ice up my face. My feet were encased in a set of four buckle artics.  They were designed to keep my feet dry and warm. They accomplished the first but were sadly lacking on the second.  

Walking the route that day was causing chills to my young bones but was otherwise uneventful..  I made it back home and since this was Saturday, there was no school so I slept in which my body truly appreciated.

However, those were the days where the carrier was responsible for collecting the money for the paper.  As I had over 185 customers this could be a daunting task .  The good news was that I was expecting a Christmas bonus from some of my customers.  The bad news was that this route was noted for its share of Scrooges but I had Great Expectations.

Having had a nice supper on this Saturday , I set out at 6pm to collect for the paper.  Many were working on Saturday (There’s a War on) so this was the time to ‘catch’ people at home.
The first house that I stopped at had a customer that was notorious for not paying me on time.  However, this time he was home and paid me promptly. He had a long porch, and the front door was at least 25 feet from the porch steps.  This morning, see above, the paper was really thick with lots of sections. I folded the individual parts of the paper separately and made a “train’ from the front porch steps to his door.  I wish that I could’ve seen him in his underwear bending over to pick up each piece in that 15 degree weather. No matter, it worked.

I had to make many stops in the evening but I'll mention only two..  The first was a bar on Hanna street at that time in the middle of a  segregated black district. The bar was called (I’m not making this up) The Chocolate Bar and it was owned by a nice black gentleman  who always was prompt in paying for his paper.  I never had any problems with walking inside to get paid. This was before a law in Indiana that didn’t allow minors inside bars.

 The second stop had me puzzled at my young age.  The two story house was next to the Chocolate Bar.  Normally I would knock on the door and they would come to the door and pay me.  Since it was cold this day they invited me in.

My, I thought to myself, this house has one big family in it.  There were two servicemen sitting on a couch with what I thought were their sisters sitting with them  .  I was puzzled that both sisters had robes on.  In fact, there were two more sisters coming down the stairs, also in robes. What was even more puzzling was that right in the middle of the living room was this BIG Wurlitzer juke box playing tunes of that day. Interesting!


As I came toward the end of my route, it began to snow.  The snowflakes were so big that soon the ground was white. The slight breeze stopped, the snow by now was even thicker and I noticed that I could HEAR the snow flakes when they hit those that were already on the ground. A sort of flumph sound.   All other sounds were muffled.  All I could hear was the sound of my artics squeaking in the snow.

Now this part of my route was close to downtown. At that time the tallest building in downtown Ft. Wayne was the 26 story Lincoln Tower. The top of the tower had huge loudspeakers.  In the midst of this white blanket quiet , the silence was broken by the sounds of a pipe organ.  It was coming from the speakers on the tower.  The sound was that of a Christmas carol.  The song was old.  It had first been played on a guitar hundreds of years ago in a church because the pipe organ of the church was broken.  The song was “Silent Night, Holy Night”   The melodic story telling strains of that ancient  melody gave me pause.  Even at my youthful age, I knew that the moment was special.

I walked home in a state of beatific peace and my cold feet were no longer cold.. I remember that night to this day, sixty seven years later.

I also remember that Mom, Dad, my four sisters, and I , had a White and Wonderful Christmas.


Wayne

[Thunderbolt]

I for one never tire of reading your first hand stories and your memory of the details is amazing.

[bigvalkriefan]

Very cool, story telling is a lost art. Thanks for sharing.

[JimL]

As usual, it was an excellent read.  Thanks for sharing!

[Smokinjoe-VRCCDS#0005]

 The second stop had me puzzled at my young age.  The two story house was next to the Chocolate Bar.  Normally I would knock on the door and they would come to the door and pay me.  Since it was cold this day they invited me in.

My, I thought to myself, this house has one big family in it.  There were two servicemen sitting on a couch with what I thought were their sisters sitting with them  .  I was puzzled that both sisters had robes on.  In fact, there were two more sisters coming down the stairs, also in robes. What was even more puzzling was that right in the middle of the living room was this BIG Wurlitzer juke box playing tunes of that day. Interesting!


 

House of ill repute....Cat house ?   Great read Wayne 

[Hoosier Valk]

Great story Wayne, thanks for posting it.

[FryeVRCCDS0067]

My, I thought to myself, this house has one big family in it.  There were two servicemen sitting on a couch with what I thought were their sisters sitting with them  .  I was puzzled that both sisters had robes on.  In fact, there were two more sisters coming down the stairs, also in robes. What was even more puzzling was that right in the middle of the living room was this BIG Wurlitzer juke box playing tunes of that day. Interesting!

Those kind of places gave Terre Haute it's nickname, sincity.

Another great story Wayne. Hope there are more to come. I used to ride along on several friends paper routes and had pretty well forgotten about it till now.

Thanks again for sharing.
Mike

[R J]

Good read dad, I had a paper route also, but we carried Moring, evening and Sunday.    Didn't leave much time for sports.........

[Jess Tolbirt]

 

[flamingobabe #44]

Thanks for sharing....

[Karen]

Thanks, Wayne, reading it is like being there.

[Popeye]

 
As usual, great read Wayne.  I enjoy your posts, motorcycle related or not.

[Valkernaut]

I sold the Cincinnati Times Or the Post on the street corner at 5th & Vine(until they replaced all us kids with the adult wineos....

[Super Santa]

Thanks again for a great read, Wayne.

Made me recall my own early years and delivering papers, although I did ride mine on the old Excelsior bicycle.  Had racks on the back and my deliveries were in the afternoons in the central valley of California in the early 1950's.  Paper was the Stockton Record.  Guy that taught me the route and trained me was Paul Hallett.

Crazy recalling that many details after all these years.  Been close to sixty years for me now.  Time flies.

[..]

Nice Wayne. 

I too delivered newspapers at the age of 16 as part of my job as a trainee manager at a newspaper/tobaccanist by the local station. If a regular delivery person didn't show it was my job to fill in.

Had a company bicycle that must have weighed about 100 pounds  It had canvas saddlebags and a wire basket mounted on the handlebars/front forks. Fully loaded it weighed a ton 

It was too unwieldly to ride until at least a third of the deliveries had been made.As you know it rains quite a bit in England so pushing this thing was an unpleasant task.