Call Me Papergirl

Reflections on life in the pages of newspapers

By SHIRLEY NEARY
Guest Columnist

OMAHA, Nebraska —

Call me Papergirl.

I love newspapers!

I love them so much that I’ve been gifted with a small town Iowa weekly, The Coon Rapids Enterprise, which I now get in the mail. It covers my hometown area of Carroll County. I also read the digital versions of The Carroll Times Herald, (covering Carroll, IA news), and the Omaha World Herald, but I prefer paper copies.

My favorite time to read those papers used to be in late afternoon, right after it got delivered to our home on 55th Street. I would slow down, stop everything, and sit on the front porch steps to read it. My neighbors did the same, bonding with me as I waved “hello” and read.

Summers in Okoboji (since 2010), I’m desperate for an actual physical paper. The Coon Rapids one, being forwarded, doesn’t always make it. Every Tuesday, The Lake News Shopper shows up in my mailbox. I spread it out on the kitchen table and peruse what it offers. It’s a surprise to me how entertained and informed I am by this free publication.

There used to be vending machines a short bike ride away from our lake house. One had the Des Moines Register, the other, The Omaha World Herald. Sometimes I’d splurge and spend all my quarters on both. One year, they just disappeared, leaving me nostalgic for the simple pleasure of biking to retrieve a paper, with the wind in my face, shady trees above, and often a grandchild by my side.

So, I went on a search, driving around, looking for a paper. Every gas station, grocery store and book store was checked. My familiar papers were nowhere to be found. I guess the business of delivering copies was no longer profitable.

The concierge in our midtown Omaha condo building told me once that he thinks the paper is trying to steer everyone to digital by not making deliveries more efficient. He was in charge at that time of getting the newspapers to people’s doors. There were always problems, apparently.

Now that I’m a subscriber once again to hand-held paper editions, I’m in charge (ha ha, not true). I’m only delivering to customers on our floor. I get a kick out of it, for now. When I tire of this volunteer job, I’ll give it up and let another person experience the joy.

I get up very early, always have. So, it makes sense for me to be the one to bring the rubber banded bundle inside, and check off what I’m taking.

Outer lobby, drop off site. Not many papers here!

Organizing my floor. I go behind the concierge desk to get a pen. On this day, a Wall Street was missing! Not my problem.

My concern (a minor one) is what to do with the rubber bands? They’re a little ink smudged. I think I’ll keep them, and give them back to the delivery person, if I ever figure out how to meet that person. Wonder what time he/she gets here? I am NOT going down in the middle of the night for the zero waste sake of a few rubber bands.

Our son, Brandon, and daughter, Leigh, each had paper routes. They earned a ton of their own spending cash, and relished those rewards. One of Brandon’s customers saved all of the rubber bands (a red color then) and gave them back to him so he wouldn’t have to buy any. He thought that was ridiculous, if I remember correctly. Paper carriers bought their own cloth delivery bag, clear plastic sacks, and rubber bands to get the job done.

All delivered, my work is done.

1990, Brandon, and Wed. PM papers. Quite a big job! The World Herald had 2 editions each day.

When Mom and Dad visited, Brandon was helped by Dad, who really enjoyed giving him a lift, driving around his route. We only did that with him in bad weather, and maybe on Sundays.

Years later, there was only one daily, delivered in the morning, to our mailbox on the curb. Dad was the first one out there (often barefooted, even in snow- he had sturdy feet, EEE wide). I’d get up at the same time to go walking. I thought we could visit a little, but he seemed happy reading the paper. I understood. We both liked the alone time; his at the table, mine along the path outside.

Newspapers have provided me with lots of entertainment. Artist friends suggested I read The Wall Street Journal. They liked it for thoughtful subject ideas, based on the news, as well as arts and culture coverage. So did I, and still do.

Dan’s job took us to Long Island, NY for almost a year (our big adventure). Conor and Leigh went to high school at Cold Spring Harbor High. We all explored the area, and I explored the newspapers, becoming a fan of Newsday, which I now follow on Social Media.

I enjoy the stories and photos in any newspaper. Besides the headlines in news and sports, I read the Opinion and Obituary pages. Opinions help me feel connected to our community, and the world. I’ve written a few letters to the editor, and saw them published. One was somewhat controversial. It was brought to Dan’s attention by his superior at work (the president of the company) who did not appreciate my comments in the letter. The company had taken the opposite position (which I had no knowledge of). It had to do with downtown development. Dan knew nothing about my letter.

We can laugh about it now.

Once, I wrote an essay, “How to Build a Cupcake Shop”. I wanted to highlight our small business and my partners there. The World Herald printed it, and changed the title to “Recipe for Success”. I was not happy. It was too generic, I thought. I learned firsthand the power of an editor.

It took me awhile to think that obits were worth my time. My friend, Liz, told me she always reads them. We were in our 30s at the time. It didn’t seem that a young person (how I saw myself) would read those. I now like a well written obituary, especially if it’s concise with a few individual characteristics of the person. Some are quite humorous, making the reader happy to be alive.

April, 1981, in our living room, Omaha.

Newspapers are a luxury to me. When we stay at a hotel, the papers in the lobby are such a treat. It’s even better if it’s dropped outside your door. Local news right from the city we’re visiting!

One time I was tempted to steal a neighbor’s paper in a hotel hallway. It was right next to our room. Then, I discovered that we had a “back door” into our suite, and this paper was actually ours. Yippee!

Another luxury for me, once a year, was breakfast in bed, on Mother’s Day. The Sunday paper was all mine to look through first, and leisurely, delivered with the breakfast.

Shirley, 2002. I’m sure I’m happy here, even with my befuddled expression. Maybe I’m asking, “Why are you taking my picture?” Now, I’m wondering who the photographer was.

Call me Happy (or Papergirl:)

(Shirley Neary grew up in Carroll, Iowa living each day creatively. She spent lots of time in libraries and colleges, earning a degree from the University of Nebraska Omaha (BSA, 1992) while parenting 4 children with her husband, Dan. A self starter, she enjoys making things, and making things happen. This column originally appeared in her On Writing, On Life blog and is printed here with permission.)

(Douglas Burns, founder of The Iowa Mercury and a fourth-generation Iowa journalist from Carroll, is a member of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative. Read dozens of the most talented writers in Iowa in just one place. The Iowa Writers' Collaborative spans the full state. It’s one of the biggest things going in Iowa journalism and writing now — and you don’t want to miss. This collaborative is — as the outstanding Quad Cities journalist Ed Tibbetts says — YOUR SUNDAY IOWA newspaper. )