2020 was a rough year in many ways — too many to mention. But in one way, I hated to see it come to a close: Dec. 31 marked the end of over 100 years of daily home newspaper delivery.
Yes, I will miss walking out on my front porch every morning to pick up the paper, sitting in my easy chair or at the breakfast counter to read the headlines and news stories of the day, leafing through the large pages and scanning several stories (or ads) in one glance, moving from section to section and stacking them aside for the next reader, and then rising to wash the newsprint from my fingers. I will miss the routine, the expectation, the tradition and more. But with the demise of the daily print newspaper, I also lament the loss of a reliable daily friend — the newspaper carrier.
I suppose this change is more sentimental to me than most because I was a “paper boy” for several years of my young life, beginning at age 10. After my parents separated, my mother arranged for me and my older brother to share responsibility for daily morning and afternoon newspaper routes — each with about 70 customers.
We fastened the canvas saddle bags to our bike, picked up the bundle of newspapers every day at the designated drop-spot on Main Street, and then pedaled the papers up and down the streets of our rural town, where we knew every customer personally — as well as every crack in the sidewalks of Grantsville. One brother took the morning route, beginning with a rousing 5 a.m. ring from our “Baby Ben” alarm clock, while the other brother delivered the afternoon route after school. We traded routes as needed, depending on schedules and other activities.
I remember riding my bike down Clark Street one very dark morning and seeing a blinking light ahead, about three feet above the ground. In my young mind, I thought for sure it must be a hovering alien spacecraft. As I cautiously approached, I made out the form of a construction warning barrier. After that, I paid my younger brother a dime a day to ride along with me on his bike each morning to keep me company.
As paperboys, we earned about a dollar a day, which we retained after collecting monthly delivery fees from our customers and paying our distributor for the newspapers. It wasn’t much, but it helped with our expenses for school and sports and other needs. And to me, the dime I paid my brother was worth it not to be alone.
Our daily paper routes became our family way of life — a shared responsibility that we were taught to do well. Our worst fear was a customer calling to say we had missed them or that their paper had blown away. We had to scramble to find an “extra,” or give them our own paper. We never had a family vacation because of our daily paper duties that could never be shirked or left to others. However, my brother and I did win a vacation on separate occasions when the newspaper corporation sponsored a contest for its carriers to earn a trip to Disneyland by obtaining 50 new daily subscriptions, which we achieved by going door-to-door in Salt Lake City.
Over the next 20 years, my mother passed those two papers routes down the line through all six of her sons — teaching each of us to feel the responsibility of a daily task, as well as the satisfaction of a daily accomplishment. On snow days and Sundays, when the papers doubled in size and weight from ads and inserts, Mom would drive us in the car to deliver the papers.
We learned to appreciate that time alone with our mother, as she taught us the lessons of life. Early in the mornings or later in the afternoons, she could be seen crisscrossing the streets as we would hop out at each stop. The townsfolk and police paid no mind to this seemingly “distracted driving” — knowing that it was just the Nelsons delivering the papers.
So, as this year draws to a close, and delivery of daily newspapers comes to an end, I pay tribute to the many devoted newspaper carriers through the years — including the young boys and girls, often with a parent, performing the daily task and service of delivering the printed news throughout our communities.
Rain or shine, early or late, hot or cold, through darkness or daylight, dedicated and reliable carriers have delivered the printed news to our doors. I thank them and honor them for their service — a service that is no longer needed, but will always be missed.
Rep. Merrill Nelson is a member of the Utah House of Representatives (District 68), a lawyer and former paperboy. He lives in Grantsville.