Bob's Corner
Having spent six years laboring for the former Evening Tribune, when it was based at 919 Second Ave., just off Broadway near Horton Plaza in Downtown San Diego, I have lately become connected to the “919 Gang.” It’s a diverse assortment of mostly retired journalists and others who worked for “The Trib,” either at 919 or after the entire Union-Tribune operation moved to new quarters in Mission Valley.
Ramona resident Jack Reber, a retired sports writer for the Evening Tribune, each day sends an e-mail compilation of messages and memories from members of “The Gang.” A recent series of communiqués dealt with the fact that many of us began our journalism careers as newspaper carriers.
Actually, I believe that my 43-year occupation really began, so to speak, at a young age by my reading “The Trib” to which my parents subscribed. I was an early reader, and I know that I was significantly influenced by the stories, columns and photos.
At any rate (such as an ounce of silver now being sold for more than $13), I too was a newspaper carrier. And like many of those former “Trib” staffers who wrote about their adventures, I also was “stiffed” by dishonest circulation managers. But that’s another story. I never delivered “The Trib” though. My first job for money (not much of it/see circulation managers above) was for the Independent, when it first began in San Diego County.
Some will find this difficult to believe, but my route had 165 homes on it. The Independent then was distributed on Thursday afternoons and Sunday mornings. Although it had not too many pages, the newspapers with their circulars, which we carriers had to insert ourselves, were too much to carry on a bicycle. That would not have been easy anyway, as each paper had to be folded into a cone and placed between door handles and the jamb. This way, when the home owner opened his front door, the paper would plop at his feet.
A lot of people did not like this plopping. And they told me so in strong terms when I would try to collect. As the Independent then was a free newspaper, trying to collect for a publication that no one had ordered was a nasty chore. Oh, and I used my Radio Flyer wagon to haul my papers.
To make a looong story short, after being continually ripped off by the manager, I quit and felt much better. A few times I delivered the San Diego Union when its regular carrier was on vacation. He paid me more for one day’s work than I used to get for a month’s work at the other paper.
Many years later, although I had a full-time job as news editor at the former Escondido Times-Advocate (now North County Times) in San Diego County, I had the brilliant idea to take a seven-days-a-week motor route for the Los Angeles Times to increase our family income. It was a bad idea. Not only did I ruin our car, but I was exhausted, having to arise at 2:30 a.m.; finish by 6:30; dash home and shower and be at my “regular” job by 7:30.
Having printer’s ink in your blood only goes so far, and it doesn’t increase your intelligence.
