POSTAL

After eight and a half years with Pearl Paint Company on Canal Street, in Manhattan... I went postal. I was hired as a New York City letter carrier, but, before all that I wanted to go back and explain how my work ethic came to be.

At nine years of age I would help my brother deliver his newspaper route, and for all the people he felt uneasy about approaching to collect the weekly fee, I would do it for him. 
I also would rake leaves for people in the fall, and when I was around 12 years old, besides getting my own paper route, I would shovel snow, rake leaves and even push a hand mower for a few neighbors. 
At fourteen, the local pharmacy asked if I would become a soda jerk in the afternoons. So, after school and after delivering my newspaper route, I would work the soda fountain, make egg creams, shakes and sundaes, as well as pack quarts and pints of ice cream, all for 50 cents an hour. After leaving the pharmacy, I stocked and delivered liquor for the store a few doors down from the pharmacy. I was fifteen now and applying for other jobs, never doing homework and barely getting by in school. 

At sixteen I applied for and got my working papers. I was able to snag a New York State job, work at Jones Beach State Park, for the summer of 1964 and the summer of 1965, as well as into the fall of '65. I could have had a year round job with the state, but my parents thought I would have a better career working retail. The winter of 1965 I worked for Gertz Department Store in Hicksville, NY, for the Toy Dept. and had to bring toys out to peoples cars for them. They never gave me time to grab my coat and I came down with pneumonia. 
1965 was the year I graduated High School, one year late. That year I had pneumonia and went from 130 lbs. down to 110 lbs. and missed quite a bit of school. 
I had gym twice a day in High School and was very good at gymnastics, especially good on the side horse, I just couldn't do the dismount. I did climb the ropes for testing in both classes, and even though I wasn't allowed to use my feet, made it to the top of the ropes, with only a slight burn on the way down each time. I even did a routine on the rings, including the iron cross, which was easy with the weight I was at. However, one teacher passed me and one failed me saying I missed too much of his class. Only a real prick would do that, and he did. I was allowed to graduate and received a blank diploma. There was no gym in summer school, so they let me help with the grade school children that would come for daily arts and crafts and games, at the High School. My job at Jones Beach didn't start until four in the afternoon, so, it was no problem showing up to enable me to get credit to graduate. They later mailed me my diploma.
Having to make court restitution for an event from 1962, all of my checks from working at Jones Beach were handed over and went to that. I am sure I should have had some savings come out of my pay checks, but whatever there was went to the household.
The job was tough and I was happy to be out of the house. I worked from 4:00 PM until midnight each day, picking up trash on the beach, sweeping sea walls, doing garbage runs, putting up storm fences and even painting bathrooms in the fall. The only lunch I would bring with me was a bologna or some such cold cut sandwich, which was on soggy white bread and I would throw them out. I did bring a can of frozen soda with me each day, but, they would never thaw and never were much good to me. If I could save some change by not using carfare money and walking to Wantaugh, from Massapequa, NY, I would buy a candy bar. One of my coworkers would pick me up in Wantaugh, and I could usually catch a ride home, but, I would get left on Sunrise Highway and walk from there. In any event I would walk up Hicksville Road from our house on Ontario Avenue, to Sunrise Highway each day. We were required to wear combat boots, long sleeved uniforms, and my hair would always bleach back to it's original white each summer, despite having to wear a sailor hat.  I did like the job.

After being talked into leaving my State job in the fall of 1965, I applied for a job at J.W. Mays Department Store, in Massapequa. Before they would hire me to do stock work, they insisted I find out how long it would be before I was drafted. I reluctantly called the draft board and was told it would be at least two years. Mays hired me as a stock boy for the ladies Robe Department. I eventually became Department Manager for the Blouse Department. I did well in that position and they moved me to the Levittown, Long Island store. I was driving then, so, it was an easy commute. 
Mays was a dead end job and would never be anything more than an 50 hour a week ass breaking pain of a job. 
Since my family was ready to make a move to upstate Conklin, New York, it gave me an out from a dead end poorly paying job. 
Looking for work in the Binghamton, NY area was not easy. I tried transitioning to work that I knew and applied at a local Department Store and a few other bargain stores. Having no luck there I relied on the job bank at the unemployment office. I got a job with a shoe store, something I really didn't want to do. I left one shoe store in Endicott, NY, for one closer to home in Binghamton. It was not a good fit for me and the owner of that second shoe store had his wife call me on my day off to say it "wasn't working out". Because of being laid off, I was able to collect unemployment, but soon found work at a carnival supply warehouse. The boss there was very obnoxious and I ended up quitting that job and working a few years in the receiving department for W.T. Grants. I liked it there, and became manager of the receiving department, but, was having allot of personal problems and ended up having to leave. 
After some therapy and deciding to apply for a job doing what I really wanted to do, I was able to get a job in the display department of a local department store. I loved that job, it didn't pay well, but, I learned quite a bit from the older well schooled men that were working there. 
While working there, one early icy winter morning, I headed toward Airport Road, but, had to use Lewis Road to get there.
Lewis road curved, tilted to the side and sloped down in the spot where I sailed through the air and landed head on into a tree. If I hadn't been driving my used Crysler Imperial, I would have been dead. I broke the key off with my shin, hit my mouth on the steering wheel, broke the windshield with my head and had a very large knot on my head for months from hitting the frame around the windshield. The emergency room doctor took an x-ray and told me everything was fine, except for my smashed up mouth and that I should see a dentist. He said my x-ray was fine and that I could go. I said 'What about the glass in my head'? He answered " When you get home, take a shower but wash out the tub when you are done". I literally had to pick the glass out of my head. I had to sleep with five pillows behind me, because when I tried to put my head down, I would feel like I was passing out. I think I had a concussion, but apparently I was a throw away patient not worth fussing over. At least that's what I felt like. The dentist wouldn't start work until he got the approval from my auto insurance stating that his work was covered and would be paid for. 
I went back to work at Fowler's Department Store and did really like it there, but, I didn't feel I could spend another winter in Binghamton.
My brother lived on 21st Street, in a studio apartment and graciously allowed me to move in and share his leather sofa bed. I went out and applied all over town for display jobs, but, since I had no college background they wouldn't hire me. I couldn't afford an expensive new wardrobe and that was probably my downfall. Since I had worked for J.W. Mays from 1965 through 1972, and new a couple of people there, I applied for a job in the display department. They wanted to hire me, but, there wasn't an opening yet in that department, so, they hired me for the platform and receiving department. They wouldn't hire me as a department manager because I had a beard. The owners son frowned on beards. That was fine with me, I'd rather work in the receiving department anyway. Eventually I was able to get into the display department, I think they wanted to see what kind of worker I was. Guess I passed the test. 
I ended up being in charge of all interior displays for five of Mays stores and would work out of the Brooklyn store, but travel around to the other stores. When I started I worked at the 14th Street store and could easily walk there from 21st street, and from my apartment share on 14th Street. When I worked out of the Brooklyn store, I had already moved to a roommate shared apartment at Grand Army Plaza, and then to a shared apartment on Hicks Street in Brooklyn Heights, where I met Al. After quitting Mays after a dispute in pay, Al encouraged me to apply for Pearl Paint Company, which I did. I thought I would surely loose that job when shortly after starting work there, I came down with hepatitis and had to tell my coworkers they had to get gamma globulin shots, which they did. It was rough but I got back to work in just a couple of weeks. Al's chicken soup helped but I remember walking down the street and having to stop and rest and I also remember standing in line at the bank to cash my check and getting that pain in my side and feeling the yellow creeping into my eyes. It took a long time, but, I eventually got my energy back.
I had become the manager of the fifth floor craft department at Pearl Paint Company, but, because of the woman that did the buying for that department and worked out of a Long Island store, snubbed me every time she showed up. She wanted me out. She only hired women for that L.I. store and except for her very nice but henpecked husband that did carpentry work for Pearl, she wanted no men working in the craft department. The last straw was when Jodie appeared with a team of young women and began putting merchandise out and rearranging some shelves. I was very busy answering questions and overseeing the register, as well as filling in and putting out wood supplies used in making architectural models.
Jodie came up to me and said "How about picking up some of the trash that's everywhere". I looked around the whole store and there was no trash other than what was thrown down on the floor by her and her Long Island girls. 
I went to the store manager and was allowed to leave that day, and then the following day I was offered a job in the order department, which I gladly accepted. I became the assistant manager of that department and worked at Pearl, on Canal Street, for a total of eight and a half years. 

I had taken the test for the Postal Service but, didn't expect to get the job. I hated the test and half guessed my anwers, I only got a 75 on the test, but since they were hiring by lottery, I got the job. At first they said that if you wanted to be a clerk that it would be several years before there would be an opening. They also said that if you had a clean valid drivers licence you could become a letter carrier. 
I started at Church Street Station, on the collection tour. When we came in to work in the later morning, we would deliver express mail or sometimes help people box their mail or do a second delivery for one carrier or another. If we did an end of anyone's route, it was with an overstuffed shoulder bag. Later in the afternoon we might be sent to be a "watcher loader" (bags brought to the street, mail from offices in one building or another that needed to be watched and that you would load onto the collection truck when it came). We might be given a truck and asked to do one collection or another. For quite a few months I filled in for a carrier that was on light duty. It was usually ideal to stick to one job for more than a day or week, but, in this case it was not really great. The collection was on the Bowery and in Little Italy and Chinatown at rush hour. In spite of that rough collection, I really liked the job. 

I made regular  carrier and moved on to Cooper Station where I would have to clock in at FDR Station to pick up a truck to do a Cooper Station collection, every day, the advantage was that I didn't have to return the truck and could leave it docked at Cooper. After the collection I had to box up mail and deliver a route. They were very large routes at Cooper and if I did have a lunch, it was a sandwich eaten as I stood to box mail in one building or another. As soon as I could I bid out of Cooper I moved on to Trinity division of Bowling Green Station (since closed and moved to Church St. Station). I mostly worked night shift at Trinity, boxed mail all night and at six every morning did the collection there. The two ton trucks would not clear the overhead to park in the bays at Bowling Green and I had to either drive the one ton or two and half ton trucks. 
After the collection each day, I would have to help routes tie down and was required to fill a truck and drop off mail at buildings. Since the trucks did not have lifts and most of the guys threw their large bags of mail into gurneys, I had to bounce the gurneys off of the rear bumper (not at all easy on the upper body or back). 
After a time I felt zombie like and bid for Canal Street Station, an area I was already familiar with. I learned to fill in for at least 25 different routes at Canal St. Station and ended up with 2 different routes of my own. I literally worked my ass off and ended up bent over in pain by the end of each day. I went on light duty, was unceasingly harassed by management and since I was 55 years old and had 14 1/2 years of service, I simply retired. 

I was eligible and able to collect Social Security Disability, but most of my Thrift Savings Plan Benefit (IRA) checks went into our money pit of a Staten Island home, but, that's the next chapter, in the continuing story of Imperfect Eye.

                                                                                                   tmp