(To view other recent Blog Posts, page down)
The Kipkers and
The Three Rivers Commercial
In 1946, when I was three-years-old and Dad returned from the Army, my parents bought the house at 906 South Main Street, where they spent the rest of their lives, being parents, good neighbors, and assets to their community. Three Rivers Commercial was always a part of our lives. News of births, deaths, weddings, graduations, exciting changes in the town, and tragedy, all part of living, was delivered in the newspaper.
The newspaper clippings in their scrapbooks show felicitations on the birth of two more children. There are school news items from Murray J. Huss and Girl Scout meetings; a picture of an award-winning- window painted by their daughter for Halloween. A long column of print was devoted to the pet show winners one summer when my brother and cousin were winners, summer playground programs and ribbon winners for competitions, Miss Three Rivers and scholarships. There’s a picture of my dad with one of the best beards grown for Maxwell Street Days, part of the centennial celebration; a picture of the first graduating class of auxiliary police, of which my dad was a member.
My mom’s picture wasn’t in the paper, though it should have been. She was the driving force behind all those family stories. She was the one who packed our lunches and made sure we all arrived on time for whatever it was we were doing. She was the one who bathed and brushed those pets and sent them off to win the ribbons. She was the one who encouraged all of us to be part of the town and be newsworthy. She was the one who always made sure the “paper boy’s money” was in the clip by the door with his punch card when he “came to collect.”
My brother was a Commercial paper boy. Mom helped him roll his papers and tuck them securely into his big canvas bag and hurried him out the door so he’d be home before dark. He saved his money and bought a bike to deliver the papers faster. Mom lectured him about hitting the porch, keeping the paper out of the bushes, and being reliable. And she seethed when a customer stiffed him.
When we were all grown and gone, we saw newspaper pictures of the miniature village they built and lighted for Christmas. Pictures of their Christmas decorations were frequently featured in the Commercial. The year vandals destroyed the little village my dad was heart-broken. Sad for the creation, yes, but sadder that this could happen in their town; a rapidly-changing town.
In retirement, they delivered the Three Rivers Commercial. They rolled their papers and inserts, loaded the car with their lunches and binoculars, and drove into the rural surrounding area and around the lakes. They’d stop for lunch and watch for eagles and sandhill cranes. It was time spent together, and taking care that every customer’s paper was delivered. I remember visiting them one winter and going on the route with them. Dad pulled up next to a mile-high snowbank, Mom shoved out the door and fell feet first into the snowbank, over her head! I suggested she just leave the paper in the mailbox and she said, “This customer is elderly. I have to take it to the door.” Mom was around 80 at the time.
They delivered the paper for several years until Dad’s macular degeneration made it impossible. For the next several years they awaited the arrival of their newspaper every day. Mom would sit beside him and read every single word on every page, including the ads. He used to tell her, “Read the obituaries first. I need to be sure I’m not in it.”
Four years ago, I made the decision to move them to North Carolina where I could be more help to them. It was no longer safe for them to live on their own. It wasn’t an easy decision as I knew they wouldn’t want to leave Three Rivers. We had their Commercial subscription sent to the Living Center, their new home. Dad died shortly after that. Mom soldiered on with the help of loving care-givers and new friends. My husband (also from TR) reads the Commercial on-line every day keeping up with the sports teams, obits, and shared the news “from the Commercial” with her. She was fascinated by how the newspaper was on his little phone. She passed away on Easter; she was 96. She was probably the longest subscriber and fan of the Three Rivers Commercial.