Taking A Stand: My delivery days a thing of the past
There’s a lot to be thankful for this year, foremost of which is I’m not out delivering the paper you are now reading.
Each and every year since I’ve been at the Southern Standard, we’ve had what is commonly referred to as the countywide edition where theoretically everyone in Warren County receives a paper whether they are a subscriber or not. If you’re reading this, you obviously got yours.
In the editorial department, countywide simply means more work for everyone given the fact there are several special sections in the countywide edition. Over the years, I’ve gotten used to the little bit of extra work, but what I never got used to was staying up all night to help deliver them after writing them.
For many years, my mother was a carrier for the paper. This meant I was obligated to help bag the papers and deliver them since there’s a massive number of extra papers to deliver during countywide. Hey, I’m a good son. So, when she announced she was accepting a position with the school system and retiring from the paper business, my first reaction was – no more countywide!
I think any carrier here will tell you there is nothing more nerve-racking and nothing more hated than countywide, given the multitude of papers which must be bagged and delivered. And, with the numerous pre-Christmas ads, the countywide editions are sometimes as thick as a phone book, meaning you must have hands of steel just to fold them into the bags.
Of course then there’s the delivery. You cruise around looking like you’re about to drown in papers, your head just barely sticking out above a sea of papers which fill your car to the roof.
Over the years, we’ve found ways to make it a little more fun since I usually draft one or two of my friends to help out. The smart ones schedule themselves to work or simply see my number on their caller ID and treat me like a telemarketer.
There was one year where me and former editor Steve Wildsmith put down the top on his Tracker, donned ski masks and set out delivering in 20 degree weather. Making matters worse was the fact only hours before gunmen wearing ski masks had knocked over a convenience store here, meaning police were looking for ski-masked suspects roaming the neighborhood.
Then there was the year editor James Clark and I went out delivering. Everything was going smooth until we went to deliver along this long narrow driveway. As I was backing out I neglected to see this big tree in my rearview mirror, slamming into it in reverse, throwing James forward.
“Dude, you hit a tree,” was his stunned response as my face turned bright red in anger.
“Thanks James, I never would have known without your eye-witness account,” I responded, getting out to check for damage.
Along with the incidents, there was the sport associated with delivering hundreds of papers. Over time, I got pretty good at firing a paper onto a front porch while traveling at a good rate of speed. Of course, there were those miscalculations where the oversized papers, seemingly weighing as much as bowling balls, hit the door frames, making it sound like a gun had gone off. I guess some folks thought they’d been the victim of a drive-by seeing they heard the bang and then the screech of wheels from the get-away vehicle. Hey, I ain’t waiting around to explain. It’s kind of like the kids who knock a baseball through your window and run off.
So, if a paper came whistling through your window last night, shattering glass and waking the family, it wasn’t me.
(Duane Sherrill is a reporter for the Standard. He can be reached at 473-2191 or by e-mail at [email protected].)