Memoirs of the Crazy Paper Lady: Chapter 6

Aside from the obvious dangers of animals darting in front of you and having a wreck, there were several instances while delivering the paper where I was somewhat afraid. Because it involves driving, it can be a very dangerous job.

I was delivering on Sunday morning and had pulled into a small apartment building’s parking lot just off the highway. Though I suppose it’s not a good idea, I would leave the car running, jump out, leave the door open and dart up and throw the paper inside. Some guy had passed me and I guess he thought I was intending to actually go inside to an apartment and would be preoccupied for a few minutes. He quickly turned around in another lot and came back and flew into the parking lot. He was at the end of the parking lot turning around as I ran and jumped back into my van. He then flew on by, yelling some explicative’s as he passed. My only conclusion as to what he was doing is that he was going to steal my car. I don’t know why but that’s all I can come up with.

I have passed people on the road that jump out and try to flag you down. I sometimes make myself feel bad for not stopping. I think, “What if his car’s over the hill and his wife and kids are trapped?” or “What if someone’s sick and needs help?” I do my best not to worry about it and hope that whatever their plight, it will work out for the best. I have made it my strict policy not to stop because you never know the intentions of another person. Typically, I do dial 911 to alert them that either someone needs help or someone is up to no good and is going to hurt someone or get run over trying.

One early morning, in early November, which can be pretty chilly in these parts, I passed a truck parked on the shoulder. About 300 yards in front of it, I saw a young lady with a baby on her hip and one that looked about the size of a 2 year old walking and holding her hand. I know what it’s like to carry small kids a short distance, but I knew that she was walking in a direction that she would not even happen upon a house for at least a mile or two. I called 911 and the dispatcher said she would find someone in the area to go out and see if she needed help. Typically, when I call to get help for someone, I don’t know what happens to them. The next morning, I stopped in a store that was just about 4 miles before where I saw this young lady and her babies. I said something to the cashier who said that the cop had brought her back to their store and they let her make some phone calls and hang out while she waited for a ride. She was headed for a town about 35 miles North of where she was and if she intended to walk the rest of the way, she would have never made it.

One morning, I really can’t recall when it was, I passed a bad wreck on my way to my route. I didn’t immediately recognize the vehicles so I said a quick prayer for those involved and went on my way. As I got into town later that afternoon, I was told that my rival carrier (rival papers, but my friend, indeed) had perished in the crash earlier that morning. He was delivering his daily paper and was involved in an accident with another vehicle. What exactly happened is still a mystery but we lost a great carrier that day. One of our brothers, so to speak. He was always quick with a smile and would tease about whose papers they were going to buy at the store. For months afterwards, the ladies at a local convenience store I delivered papers to would be worried if I were even minutes late. Life is precious and short and should be cherished every moment.

The final chapter is entitled “They’re In My Blood!” If you’ve read the rest of the story, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.

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