To Be a Paper Boy

The newspaper business has changed and evolved over the years. Little Falls now has “the Record,” a collection of local stories of interest, advertisements, and classified goods and services, and news of activities, events, and school information. One can find the St. Cloud Times, Brainerd Dispatch, Minneapolis Star Tribune, and St. Paul Pioneer Press at vending machines outside local restaurants. However, for many years a classic paper was published on Broadway in downtown Little Falls called the Little Falls Daily Transcript.

Everyday a new paper was published by 3:00 p.m. and newspaper boys would pick up their ‘paper bag’ with the Transcript logo on the side and head out on their ‘routes’ through the city on bicycles. We didn’t throw the paper at the house or porch as seen in movies. We would walk up each walk and place the paper in the mailbox on the house. (At that time mailboxes were on the house or door, not out by the curb or in the country.)

The variety of characters met on a paper route is diverse, and taught me a great deal about people. Sun, rain, wind or snow, the route would have to be completed Monday through Friday after school.  Moving through the route took about an hour and fifteen minutes. My route wound through my Southeast neighborhood and covered about four miles.

We learned to put the bag over the back fender of the bike to prevent it from always being on our shoulder. If one walked, or in the winter, the bag would be carried.

It was a pleasant experience for the most part and people would be grateful for their daily paper. Sometimes we would encounter a territorial dog and this presented problems. At one house there were several large German shepherds who would dig large holes by the front of the house. They would be looking suspiciously at me each day as I walked past large bones they had gnawed on where they laid. Fortunately, they never decided I was a threat as I carefully laid the paper at the door and retreated.

Most frightful was a large brown dog at the Rosenmeier house; he would charge down the hallway and leap on the white curtains at the sound of the mailbox lid opening. Fortunately, he was almost always inside the house.

My brother, who also had a paper route, was, unfortunately, not so lucky. One time a small white dog growled at him as he approached and slowly laid the paper on the step and retreated. He would have escaped unharmed, but he decided to run when he reached the halfway mark of the sidewalk. At that moment the small dog bounded down the sidewalk and bit on to the seat of his pants. He ran several steps before the little dog decided to let go. Unfortunately, he needed a shot from the doctor as he had two little red marks on his bottom!

Every two weeks or so we would knock on doors of the customers and say, “Collect, please,” as the weekly cost of the paper was 25¢ in the early 1960s. Most people paid promptly. We heard several excuses why people could not pay on time. – one was, “My dog chewed up my wallet” – so we would return the next week.

To be sure, the memories of being a paper boy were mostly pleasant. I have saved my paper bag as a fond memory to this day.

-Dan G.

Date of Essay: October 24, 2011

To be a Member of the Genealogy Society

A new organization was being formed and started in Morrison County. I attended the charter meeting and wasn’t even sure what genealogy was or how to spell it, but had always enjoyed stories told by my grandfather, even if he was not from this county. But my spouse’s family had definite Morrison County roots, I believe. Needless to say, I have found my membership most fulfilling, but far from complete is my family search and, my, how the surname list does grow. Though my genealogy has not been on fast forward, the many special friends and projects are equally important. Who would think friends would consider a cemetery excursion exciting? Well, it can be, and especially if something searched for is found.

-Anne B.

Date of Essay: October 24, 2011

To be a Census Taker in 2010

I had seen the advertisement for helping to take the census in the newspaper. I was working part-time then, but thought this sounded like a job that would be fun and I would get to meet a lot of new people and get paid for it. I did apply and after a nice lengthy test, I was hired. The training was set up and a group of people were to meet for a week to learn how the government wanted the job done.

One of the very first things we had to do was fill out forms and be fingerprinted. I really was surprised that they did background checks on us, checking for any criminal history.

Then it was time to start learning how things were to be done. How they wanted the questions asked and the forms filled out. After a week of this, we were sent in a group to a certain area. The very first house we went to had a log chain across the driveway with a beware of dog sign attached. One of us finally got out and knocked on the door. Guess what? No one was home.

The job was very fascinating. It was fun finding new areas of Morrison County that I never knew existed. Visiting with some very nice people, even if you were to only ask the questions on the form.

There were quite a few vacant homes. This made you wonder if they were just summer people or if there was no one living there any longer. Some you could tell were not lived in when you saw broken windows or part of the house was burnt.

A very enjoyable job.

-MP

Date of essay: October 24, 2011

To Be a Packer Fan

Although I am not a big sports fan, I have followed the Green Bay Packers since childhood. I lived in Ohio from birth until after high school. I then attended college in Minnesota, where I met my husband. After we were married we moved to Wisconsin, where we lived for 31 years. He was always a Vikings fan.

Upon moving to Morrison County, I continued my allegiance to the Packers … that is, until Brett Favre joined the Vikings. For those two years I wore a Brett Favre pink #4 shirt. Since he is no longer with the team, I am wearing my Packer colors again. I only wear the shirt for game day, when we get together with friends.

While most people living here are Viking fans, I have found a few who are fellow Packer-backers. Walking into the grocery, the first person I met commented on my attire in a joking negative sort of way. A young worker in the store joined the conversation, saying he and his family were also Packer fans. For his mother’s birthday, he wanted to get her a package trip to Lambeau Field, with tailgating and a seat in a special suite with all the amenities. He said this cost over $300 per person. I said, “That’s a lot of money,” but he was still wanting to do this for his mother.

During the game, another person and I were the only Packer fans. When the Packers were not being very successful, some chiding, negative remarks were made – all in jest. But soon the tide of the game turned and the two of us were giving encouraging gestures to each other.

While the majority of fans in Morrison County are Viking fans, they seem to tolerate a little rivalry well, making the game fun for all.

Pam G.

October 24, 2011

To Move to Morrison County

The following What’s It Like essay was left on our Getting Started page as a comment. It seems more appropriate to add it to the stream of essays. Thanks, Marlene, for submitting this! – Mary Warner, MCHS Museum Manager

What’s it is like to move to Morrison County
I lived in St. Paul and Hastings almost 45 years. That is until I met my future husband. He was a blind date from Royalton. We dated long distance for all most 3 months. Phone bills added up and the drive on Friday and back home on Sunday became very tireing for us.

We decided one of us had to make the move. Since I lived in an apartment and he had his own home, I was the one.

What was it going to be like? I am leaving 45 years worth of friends,, and relatives. My son just graduated from college and he decided to make the move with me. He left for the small town of Royalton one monthth before I did, because he found a job. Something I would need to to do. I found a job at the local bank in Little Falls. One Friday on my return to work after my lunch hour I decided to buy myself some flowers. I stopped in at the Flower Dell. As I entered the store I went directly to the flower case. This lady came up to me and ask if she could help. When I looked at her she commented on how much I looked like her old 8th grade school friend from Hastings. And when I looked up I realized she was Pat Quinn (Anderson) back then.

My move to Morrison County truely was a good thing.

-Marlene Olesch

Submitted November 5, 2011