By Tim “Shoe” Sullivan
It’s possible that some of you have never seen a paperboy. I’m not sure if they even exist anymore.
But I was one of them in 1961. I was an average, mediocre 12-year-old Stevens Point Journal Newsboy, and my “route” pretty much went down Jefferson Street.
The goal was to collect newspapers every day and “deliver” them to people’s houses. No skill was needed for this job. As a paperboy, you folded the newspapers in a certain way so you could throw them. Then you got on your bike, arrived in front of the house and tried to hit the front door with a powerful throw.
I would say 90% of my throws hit people’s porches or doors. That was good. The other 10% landed in the bushes or on the roofs of porches. That was bad. You had to get off the bike, get the paper and put it where it was supposed to go.
The reward for all this work came on Saturday morning. I went down to the Points journal and met Mr. Ed Richter, the sales manager, who was a great guy. Most Saturdays, Ed would give us kids about two or three dollars. We were rich.
The joy of a kid with some money in his pocket on a Saturday morning in Stevens Point was overwhelming. The best part was figuring out what to spend it on. In 1961, there were plenty of options.
One destination was usually Wanta’s Bowl, right across the street from the Cozy Kitchen downtown. (My dad Bob and his buddy Bill Maher once bowled there with major leaguers Harvey Kuenn and Billy Hoeft. Harvey married a Point girl.) Wanta’s was known for “Big Ern’s” hot beef sandwiches that tasted so good. A kid could walk into Wanta’s, bowl a few games and eat like a king. Great fun!!
Sometimes I would stop by Garth Whittaker’s Sport Shop at Mirman’s Furniture. Garth was the manager of my firefighters’ little league and ran the Sport Shop. He always got a good price on a new bat.
Or you can have a breakfast of bacon, hash browns and scrambled eggs at the Main Street Café or Pal Restaurant. The breakfast was delicious.
Saturday afternoons were also usually spent at the Fox Theater to see a Technicolor feature film and see if Zorro was getting out of his latest jam. And a kid could buy a box of jujubes and go out on the balcony and throw candy to the people below. And you had to duck all the time to avoid all the bats.
Another must-stop was the ever-popular A&W root beer stand across from the Top Hat. A root beer and hot dogs were my personal favorites, and later on you couldn’t go wrong with a half chicken and fries.
It was always tempting to stop by Woolworths to buy a hot bag of cashews or a 45 rpm record by Dion, Elvis, Roy Orbison, Brian Hyland, the Four Seasons or Alvin & the Chipmunks.
The Lyric Theatre was next to Woolworth’s, but most people seemed to like the Fox better.
McClellan’s 5&10 had great toys and marbles and Toyland had lots of cool stuff too.
I bought a footstool for my mother from Mirman’s and still had it 30 years later.
There were a few drugstores downtown back then. Hannon’s for sure, and I think Gwidt’s and Westy’s. Westy’s was home to the famous cherry phosphates. Another drugstore was Roska’s on the south side, where I bought my Batman comics.
There was so much choice in Point. And the drugstores sold baseball cards. Wax packs for five cents. A stick of gum and about 12 cards. You could also get baseball cards at neighborhood stores like Morton’s, Cigel’s, Knudsen’s and Triangle. I bought at least one pack a week, hoping to find cards of Hank Aaron, Eddie Mathews, Warren Spahn (who served in the Battle of the Bulge), Mickey Mantle, Willie Mays, Stan Musial and other stars.
Unfortunately, the cards I got were usually cards from Gus Triandos, Wally Moon, Clay Dalrymple, Hector Lopez, and Casey Wise. Not Casey Stengel. Casey Wise. And a few years later, occasionally Bob Uecker.
You could buy a Hartland baseball figure in its original packaging for about $2.98. Today they cost over $100.
Usually the list was new comics. Archie. Richie Rich. Popeye. Superman. Batman. Davy Crockett. Mighty Mouse. Tweety & Sylvester. So many.
Long johns at the Point Bakery. Plastic soldiers at Five and Dime. Popcorn at Jim the Blind Man’s Stand. Candy cigarettes. Booze. Sugar dots on paper. Pez guns. Yo-yos. Hula hoops. Pogo sticks. Wiffle balls.
My brother Casey and I started playing Wiffleball in the driveway about five minutes after Bill Mazeroski hit a walk-off home run for the Pirates to beat the hated Yankees in the 1960 World Series. (One of my greatest thrills was interviewing “Maz” some 30 years later at Milwaukee County Stadium. He was a classy guy.)
As you can see, a wad of change from the paperboy could go a long way in 1960. Our town was full of thriving businesses. Shopping was so much fun. And Krazy Days was the best.
Oh, if only I were young again.
But the key was delivering the local newspaper. You earned your time in the city.
And what a time it was.
Memory Lane rocks!
