June 27, 2001

Memories of work under the morning star

I've a real dilemma when it comes to philosophizing about child labor, and especially, keeping children from danger on the job. No one actually argues in 2001 that children or teenagers should do dangerous work, yet a series of more or less marginally hazardous jobs I performed in my teens became some of my fondest memories and made me a better adult.

American children no longer do such jobs. We're so enlightened in this country we send much such work overseas, where we can plausibly deny complicity.

I've never worked in a restaurant of any sort, for which I'm duly grateful. I did do several jobs as a teenager which today would get my employer in hot water. I was a "lumper" for a small dairy, delivering glass bottles to the porches of homes. Small dairies, glass bottles, and home delivery are all obsolete concepts. OSHA would have a cow if it knew of a 13-year-old running up to porches carrying glass bottles of milk.

My most dangerous job was setting pins for bowling. No one does that now. Automatic equipment is much more efficient, and a whole phalanx of personal injury lawyers have been freed to pursue other forms of litigation. There was a recent mention in the Chronicle that they've dispensed with the last of their teen carriers. Adults now do badly, but perhaps more economically, what a large number of 12 year old boys and some of their sisters used to do in an excellent fashion and with many pleased customers. My Chronicle is delivered by an adult who heaves it from his car. It lands a foot or so in from the edge of the sidewalk. A 12 year old would most likely put it on my porch, or near it.

My own time as a carrier, starting at age 14, was very important to me. The experience came in handy well into adult life. Some of it wasn't easy. The delivery part was a breeze. Collecting money from customers was the hard part. There were no advertising supplements, and in those wartime and early postwar days papers were light in weight. For awhile I delivered 214 newspapers from the back of my bike each day, and porched most. After the Santa Rosa Press Democrat cut back route sizes, I routinely delivered my own route, then returned to deliver any other where the regular carrier was out of action that day. I'd complete the second route and head for school. I don't remember ever being late.

Unfortunately, youth carriers are more and more the exception. Newspapers are under pressure from many sources to use adults only.

Kids are losing out. The roster of former newspaper carriers who became distinguished businessmen and professionals is impressive. They learned early how to handle money, deal with customers, be reliable, and most of all, how to get out of a comfortable bed each morning to do a job responsibly because that's what they'd agreed to.

There's no doubt some kids from the thirties and forties who delivered milk, set bowling pins, or delivered newspapers or pharmacy items suffered problems. I survived without permanent damage and I remember my experiences with pride and nostalgia. Some kids didn't. Protective laws make sense, but I feel sorry for the kids in 2001 who've lost so many opportunities to make money and accomplish the kind of real work in which they can take well-justified pride.

Some of my most unforgettable memories from those days were regular sightings of Venus, the morning star. Whenever I saw that brilliant reflection in the sky, I felt good. I can only wish today's Pacifica teenagers memories as bright when they reach my age.

Paul Azevedo's e-mail address is thereactor@earthlink.net