By Patrick Lynn

City-Times staff members of late have become a bit nostalgic about the decline of the American paperboy.

While I didn’t realize it at the time I delivered the afternoon edition of a local paper, the position and function of the paperboy was an essential part of a larger network which formed a shared, common experience of news consumption that helps shape each community. I had a large route near the empty lot where Emerson Elementary School once stood on Ellis Street; a neighborhood where many city leaders lived at the time and unknowingly delivered then-Mayor Scott Schultz’s newspaper. It was my first exposure to the geography of established neighborhoods, my first taste of independence and my first experience with earning my own pocket money.

Apprentice Journalist Bradley Makuski dressed as a 1950’s “newsie” for the 2013 downtown Christmas parade.

The money wasn’t great, and tips were hit or miss, but it was a job. It gave me the basic foundation of how to run a business as the papers were dumped in bulk and had to be broken down, folded or bagged and then distributed according to a daily list of new and regular customers. Since working was something that just seemed natural in my generation, it also gave me a background in managing money and time.

By the time I hit my 13th birthday, the term “paper carrier” replaced “paperboy”. By the time I’d married my wife at the age of 22, regular deliveries in my neighborhood had been taken over by a middle-aged man driving a late 1980’s model Toyota with no muffler. My paper was no longer delivered to my front door, but rather to my mailbox.

If I was lucky I got my paper by dinnertime; if there was a snowstorm I’d have to wait until the following day. Gone were the wearied teenaged soldiers on Schwinn bikes, trekking through the snow and slush to earn a paycheck and, hopefully, a nice tip at Christmas.

It just wasn’t the same. Gone was the personal experience of delivering and receiving a newspaper. I’d never met the man who delivered my daily paper in person and he didn’t know me. There were no cordial exchanges about the weather, the news or the traffic. He was a stranger delivering my lifeline to city news- once such a personal and relished part of my day.

There may still be a few paperboys/girls in the area, but they are few and far between. Whether that’s due to companies downsizing, lack of interested teenagers or a decline in home delivery subscription is up for debate. But it’s one element unique of a close-knit community that deserves a resurgence.