Letter to the Editor: Former paperboy loyal to route during Storm of ’62

I can well remember the first day of the Storm of ’62, the fierce winds, rain beating down like sharp spears and the damage done up and down the shore towns. The next day’s paper showing shots of what once was the boardwalk at Rehoboth Beach, now reduced to splinters, looking like a warzone.

It was a devastating sight to behold, tree limbs everywhere, followed by days of more of the same.

But my main memory is more personal than any of the descriptions above.

March 5, 1962, was the first day of my paper route!

I had taken the route over from one of my older brothers. I won’t mention any names here; things would just begin to fester all over again, 60 years later.

I rode my bicycle around the town of Wyoming — with the papers folded and ready but, of course, to be completely soaked from the storm — then out on Westville Road, for what seemed like miles and miles.

I could recall that it was fairly common for my mom to drive my brother around on his route, even on nice days! But there I was, like the only person in the middle of the mess, riding my bike with twin rear baskets, tossing customers’ papers on their front steps, ready to be thrown away.

I have to stop this letter now; I’m sure anyone would understand. It was one of the most treacherous days of my 12-year-old life!

Gerry Nadel

Smyrna