As time passes, our minds fill up with those memories of a life back when. Files are added until you get to today, when your memory bank is up to date with the good times and maybe some bad times.
It won’t drop off, those bad times, because with them are those memories that give us hope and faith in our body and soul. You can’t put aside the bad just so the good is the only thing remembered.
This old man did have some bad times, but it was not so bad that I wanted to toss them off my memory bank. That was part of my life, and I want to remember everything because that is what I am.
As a child and until we moved out to New London, the only way to school was by walking or riding your bike. Thirteen blocks and the same coming home.
We went home for lunch each day, and our darling mother had a hot meal waiting for us. I also had a newspaper route seven days a week. I used my bike for that, with a large bag draped across the handlebars.
As I passed the different houses, I would reach into the bag and toss the paper up on the porches, while all the time watching where I was going. If I missed a porch, I would stop, get off and walk that paper up to the porch so that the paper was not wet. Nobody wants a wet paper to read.
Mr. Hamn at the Tribune always said that it only takes a little more care for the customer, and at Christmas time they remember. And he was right. During that season, this young feller would get money, cookies and other gifts.
I had that route and another job at Kroger’s as a stock boy. I loaded up the bags for the customer and carried them out to the cars. Soon there just was not enough time to do both, and so I gave up my route.