This Is our Village

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Paper boys and more ..

Thanks to Marc for finding extraordinary photos of Hagop Garagem - search for many more links. Every face tells a story.

Rouge your knees and roll your stockings down. Part 2, must watch full screen, vivid photos. Oh no! a fox fur with head!


  1. My God!,

    Is there no end to the FP & D to be visited upon our readers?

    Just think about what you are doing to Real Estate values in CV!

    Dave Israel

  2. Lets have a little more respect for the art lovers of CV. I went to the Boca Museum of Art today, they have a wonderful exhibit of B&W photos, many world famous. WPA child labor and immigrant worker images, + modernists and contemporary.

  3. What is FP&D, and if I know what that means I will have a idea what you are talking about.

  4. Ditto to that. Love the photos Elaine.

  5. I just ran the film. It was a trip down memory lane, although actually a bit beyond memory lane for me, into the ragtime era. But I recall the erector sets, shooting marbles (you dug the hole by twisting the heel of your shoe in the ground), soapbox derbies, and playing cops & robbers.

    I remember the knickers. I wore them into the sixth grade, and then they went out of fashion, so we boys wore trousers. I hated the knickers with the garters you had to wear to keep your socks up.

    I definitely recall doing a paper route. Dad started us out when my brother and I were 5 and 8 respectively. At first we delivered the papers together to only 15 customers, almost all on our street. We started out delivering the papers on foot, but soon switched to using our bikes. We bought the papers (Boston Globe and Boston Traveler) at cost (3¢ each) at a local store, and delivered them Monday through Saturday, six days, in the afternoon. The charge was 21¢ (that's right, 3¢ profit for the week). Most people paid us the 21¢, but two or three sometimes would give us a quarter. Mrs. Koppe, up at the end of the street, always gave us a quarter. A kid doesn't forget that. This was during World War II.

    In time we got more customers, the price for the paper went up, and my brother and I split the route. Later, I took on a second route, seven miles long, delivering the Christian Science Monitor over the whole town of Dedham. That was how I got to know Precinct One on the other side of town, where (as I recently found out) Dom Guarnagia hails from. The train dropped the Monitors off at the local railroad station. The pay was better, and I got paid once a month by check.

    That's the way it was then.


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