It’s funny the things you remember and how they become part of your story.
When I was just a kid, we didn’t have a lot. But my dad always made a way for a newspaper subscription. And in those days, the newspaper came in the morning and the evening. It was big business.
But most of all, I remember how my dad would get home and take off his work shirt emblazoned with his name, Ray. He’d sit in the evening shade, away from the heat and humidity, and he’d read the newspaper.
I’m not sure he had a system. Maybe the sports page first, and there might be a comment about the local sports team. Then the news headlines, and in those days they actually printed the daily prices of stocks.
I always thought he was a smart man, particularly when I saw him poring over those stock tables. I certainly didn’t understand any of it.
As I grew older, I became the first one to run for the paper. Of course, it eventually just became one paper a day. I had a system—sports page first, then news headlines and stock tables, and I’d save the comics for last. I still remember waiting for the newspaper—breathless—to see if my home team had won their baseball game.
Today we get the news digitally, and I’m sure that our local newspaper will price itself out of the market soon. I’m saddened by that. There was always something about the rubber banded paper, the unfolding of the print stock to find what news waited in the world. Now I get dings on my phone for the latest headlines.
But I’m grateful for the memory of my dad’s newspaper legacy. What are some of your early memories of your parents? Are any of your habits ones you picked up from them?
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Published March 19, 2021
Topics: Lessons with Bill