by Cathy Killian

Created on: April 04, 2008

Ah, the times, they are a-changing. You've heard it said many times and I have to admit that there are changes that have enhanced my life. Naturally, the first one that comes to mind is the internet and those opportunities, benefits and convenience it brings to my everyday life. Add to that the modern appliances, i.e. dishwashers, automatic washing machine and dryer. Oh, yes...no longer do we have to carry a quarter for that phone booth on those long trips; just whip out your cell phone and phone home anytime, anywhere (as long as there are "bars" on your screen!).

But what I really want to know is where is the service that once was part of our everyday life: the actual human element in the basic trades we utilize every day: the meat cutter; the man who pumps our gas, checks our oil and wipes our windshield; the soda "jerk" who makes that milkshake from scratch with real ice cream and milk; and yes, the paper boy who delivers my evening news?

In the little town of eleven hundred people where I grew up, my dad owned and operated the newsstand in town. Living sixty miles from Pittsburgh, he carried the Post Gazette...a morning paper, the Pittsburgh Press...the evening paper, and the Pittsburgh SunTelegraph. Various other newspapers were available including The Grit and our local paper, the Record. You could visit the newsstand and pick up a copy of any of these, but, most people had their paper delivered.

Dad had at least four evening routes in that little community, and the delivery boys had a canvas bag in which they carried their precious cargo. It took a special talent to ride a bike and balance that bag without getting it caught in the spokes or tangled in the handlebars. But the young fellas managed to slay that dragon early on. Dad paid the boys for their endeavors and they didn't even have to collect the money. Oh, no. Once a month, they simply placed the bill inside the paper and delivered it to the customer. THAT brought the customer to the newsstand to pay the bill, and to peruse the magazines and smell the fresh roasted peanuts that always permeated the store. Of course, additional sales of other sundries were easily made with that kind of persuasion!

Now the Sunday delivery was conducted a little differently. Early in the week, the comics and ad sections were delivered to the store via special carrier from Pittsburgh. They were wrapped in special heavy wire and just sat there till Saturday night. Then Dad would get up in the middle of the night on Saturday,

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