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1 Entry
William J. Ritter
June 16, 2013
For the Boehlecke Family,
Please accept my sincere sympathy for your loss, your loved one Bob.
It has been a very long time since I spoke with Bob since we chose different paths in pursuit of our life work. Bob was two years older than me and when I was twelve and Bob fourteen I worked for Bob, yes Bob was an entrepreneur, at a very young age. Bob was a very lucky man to have two parents who loved him and the other sibling that made up the Boehlecke family. As I observed from the outside both Mom and Dad were partners in developing the most from their family. I don't know whose idea it was to buy the milk wagon on the corner of Church and Walnut Street and sell newspaper from the wagon on Sunday morning, but lucky for me they did, I had another job, actually two! You see during the week from Monday thru Saturday Bob and I took turns selling papers on the corner from 6AM to 8AM then we went to school, something that would be foreign to the teenagers of today. Then on Saturday afternoon Bob and I would head for the garage on second street to pick-up the milk wagon for Sunday, Bob being the bigger and stronger of the two of us would pick up the poles to which would normally be attached to a horse, with me pushing from behind the wagon. We pulled and pushed the wagon three blocks to the Church and Walnut Street location in order to sell papers on Sunday Mornings, out of the cold and rain. Everyone who was anyone brought their Sunday papers from Bob's milk wagon, thanks to Bob for the lessons learned. We sold eleven different newspapers and a lot of them. Bob always rode his bicycle down to the Restaurant and brought back toasted Cinnamon Rolls with Orange Juice, never asking for a dime. At 10:30AM, we took turns going to Church Services and returning to finish up the paper business and returning the Milk Cart to the garage only to repeat the next weekend.
We sold eleven different papers and one customer always showed up at 6AM Sunday morning to pick up his eleven newspapers. One year of running the papers over to his brand new Cadillac during the Holiday Season, as I turned to go back to the Milk Wagon, when the man at the wheel said, “Hey Kid” Merry Christmas and he handed me A Hundred-Dollar Bill, just think about it, the year was 1953 and I had a Hundred Dollar Bill! Well, I returned to the Wagon and showed it to Bob and asked him. . . “Who was that?” Bill, that is Mr. Pollack, President of Thatcher Glass. As I handed the bill to Bob he said. . . “No Bill, you took care of him all year, it's yours.”
There are many stories I could tell you about Bob, he was one of the Good Ones.
Billy Ritter
West Palm Beach Florida {Jupiter}
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