The Late Rent Money
(Part 1 of a 4 part series)
When I was a kid I collected and sold beer bottles that I found in laneways, between houses, behind the Saint John Forum, in the bushes on Douglas St. near St. Peter’s Redemptorist Church, and in other places. I was paid one cent for each pint-sized bottle and five cents for the quart sized bottles. I sold them to a lady who lived on Main Street.
I put my money in my bank account at the neighbourhood Royal Bank.
I kept a tight grip on my money and I didn’t part with it easily. I prided myself with being thrifty. On Saturdays I would go around town, window shopping, with a dollar in my pocket, and I was happy when that dollar was still in my pocket when I came home.
The exception to that were the stops I made at Woolworth’s Bake Shop where they had delicious pastries. My favourite pastry was called a “Long John”; a sweet, soft brown bun shaped like a hot dog bun, split down the middle and filled with the most delicious cream filling ever made.
It was irresistible. In today’s expression, “It was to die for!”
The other items I occasionally bought at Woolworth’s were small toy soldiers made of lead. I had a modest collection of soldiers and two canons, one modern canon, and one from the 18th century. There were a large variety of toy soldiers at Woolworth’s and I always examined them carefully before making my choice.
The other military toys and planes that I played with were called Dinky Toys. I treasured those toys as a kid.
It was a challenge at times trying to play with my toy soldiers on the living room floor with my baby sister Rosemary toddling around, wanting to join me in my fun and messing up my formations of soldiers. When I complained to mom she would often say, “Raymond, play with your baby sister.”
So I would put my toys away in my wooden storage box in the closet for another time when Rosemary was sleeping.
When I was older I inherited a paper route from my brother Glen.
I delivered The Saint John Evening Times Globe to 116 customers. The papers arrived around 4 pm at our pick-up location at Humphry’s Grocery Store, on Adelaide St. and Victoria St. My route went down Victoria St. to Holly St. then to Bridge St. then up the hill to Pokiok Rd. and up to the end of Bellview Ave.
One hundred and sixteen papers are heavy, and even heavier on days when there were sale flyers added. In the winter I had a two-seater toboggan to carry my heavy paper bag. In better weather I used a wagon.
On nights when I was running late I was always hungry because I would not have my supper until I arrived home. So when I reached the corner of Bridge St. and Spar Cove Rd. I went into the convenience store to buy a Vashon dessert with a rich creamy or apple filling. They were so good, Vashon made the best desserts!
Friday night was collecting night when customers paid me for their papers covering six days of delivery. The customers that I missed collecting from on Friday night would pay me on Saturday when I delivered the Saturday paper around noon. As I recall, all my customers paid me on time.
One time I arrived at my last customer’s home on Bellview Ave. I realized I was short one paper. By then I was feeling tired and hungry. I thought it was too long a walk back to Humphry’s store in the snow almost a mile away so I had the unpleasant task of telling that customer he was not getting a paper that night. I felt embarrassed and needless to say the customer was upset about not receiving his paper.
When it happened another time, again at the end of my route, I walked all the way back to Humphry’s store to get a paper rather than face the angry customer. I was never short of papers again.
Friday night supper was often my favourite meal: baked beans with molasses, buttered brown bread and a glass of cold milk. After supper I would clear a space on the dining room table, spread all the money from my route, and then start counting. I loved counting the stacks of coins. They looked so appealing. I felt I was as rich as Silas Mariner who loved his collection of gold.
I recall week-day papers were 10 cents each and the Saturday paper cost 15 cents. I made 1 cent per paper so my income including a few tips was almost $10 per week.
We were expected to pay for our papers on Saturday. Marcella Humphry and her aunt, Katie, ran the grocery store where we picked up our papers. So we paid Marcella what was owed on Saturday afternoons. Marcella was a nice lady, also very business-like as a paper drop off manager.
I did get a few tips each week from some of my customers and many more generous tips close to Christmas so I was able to buy Christmas gifts for mom and dad and all my younger brothers and sisters.
Paying the rent on time was a constant worry for mom and dad. More so if dad was laid off as a steamship checker and my parents had to get by as best they could on dad’s unemployment insurance.
Sometimes when they didn’t have the $45 rent money they had to ask for an extension from Lou Walsh, our landlord. Lou was a nice man. Some landlords would not want to rent to large families like ours with 9 kids. Lou was also good about waiting for mom and dad to get the $45 for the rent when they were short.
On one of those times when mom and dad didn’t have the money to pay the rent they came to me privately to ask if I would withdraw $45 from my savings account to pay the rent. Today $45 is equal to $391.24. The little miser part of me twitched a bit having to let go of that much money, but I did pay the rent and was happy to be able to help my family.
I realize now that must have been embarrassing for my parents having to ask one of their children for the rent money.
To be continued…
Raymond Pierce is a Storyteller living in Toronto, Canada
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