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Jim Palmer - June '58
Jim's wife Becky says: Jim is a story teller. I have heard the stories of his youth many times so I thought it would be a good idea to put them on paper for his sons and grandchildren. Our 7 year old grandson, Makia, is always asking for stories from when we were little kids. Retelling the stories and drawing sketches to go with the stories was a labor of love. Sharing it with kids he grew up with has been a delightful experience.
The book: Little Jimmy Palmer (A Snapshot View of the Kid from Philly) is an entertaining account of growing up in the late 40s and early 50s in the heart of Philadelphia - the Harrowgate neighborhood, near Kensington. Pulling his red wagon full of free chips from the Lane Factory (famous for cedar Hope Chests) Little Jimmy traveled door-to-door selling cedar chips for fifty cents a barrel. Starting at an early age Jim's many, little business ventures as retold and illustrated by his wife, Becky, contributed to a successful career as a businessman.
EXCERPT: Chapter 2
FIRST BUSINESS VENTURE
“Hello young man. What can I do for you?” asked the lady. I was a skinny, red head standing at her door with my little red express wagon. It was loaded with two cardboard barrels and it was about all I could handle. The barrels were strapped on the wagon with rope.
“Hello madam,” I responded with a friendly smile. “I have blocks of cedar wood in my wagon. They make excellent kindling to start your coal furnace this winter. They smell good too, don’t you think?”
“Oooo, you are right; they do smell good,” said the lady as she smiled at the freckles sprinkled on my nose and curls in my hair. “What a clever idea! How much do you want for the cedar blocks?” she asked.
“They are fifty cents a barrel,” I said. “If you open your basement window I’ll throw them down next to your coal pile at no extra charge.”
“You’ve got a deal! I’ll take both barrels,” said the pleased lady as she handed me a dollar. Like other people on the block she usually used wooden crates as kindling. As she watched me wrestle the barrels off the wagon the woman thought, “This is more convenient than me lugging orange crates from the corner grocery store and besides, I can’t resist such a cute little determined salesman!”
I tied the barrels back on the express wagon and headed down the city block.
The idea to sell the cedar came to me when I spotted the piles of scrap wood left by the shipping dock at the Lane Factory. The factory was well known in Philadelphia for their famous Cedar Hope Chests. Young women traditionally filled the chests with wedding necessities and treasured heirlooms. Mom had a cedar chest full of linens, quilts, a United States flag, and my baby stuff. She said the cedar kept the moths from eating holes in her treasures.
As I entered the gates of the factory in Harrowgate, near Kensington, my lungs filled with the sweet, familiar smell of cedar. I asked the first person I met in the shipping yard, “Could I please talk to the manager?”
“I’m the manager. What do you want?” asked the busy man. “What do you do with your left over cedar wood?” I asked.
“I pay a man to haul it off,” replied the factory manager. “I’ll haul it away for free,” I offered.
“Okay kid, knock yourself out. Just keep in mind, I’m not going to pay you anything,” hollered the man over his shoulder as he quickly left the yard.
I came up with a plan for the wonderful cedar wood. After leaving the factory I went to the nearest house to see if my new idea was going to work. After my first successful sale I went back to the factory for more wood. I went door to door, down the street of row houses making trips back for more cedar after each sale. Most people bought both barrels so back and forth, back and forth, I went dragging my little red express wagon.
For weeks I sold cedar wood. I was selling it faster than the company could create the pile of scrap wood. I was one busy wagon-puller making one hundred percent profit!
After many, many trips to the Lane Factory one day the manager was waiting for me by the shipping dock. “Hey kid, what are you doing with all that wood?” he asked.
“I’m selling it to neighbors to use as kindling to start their coal furnaces,” I replied.
The manager’s eyes bugged out in surprise! “How much are you selling it for?” “I get one dollar for two barrels. People love it because it makes their houses smell good!” I replied proudly. “You’re done kid!” shouted the man. “I’m not giving you any more free wood.” “Why not?” I asked. “You pay a man to haul it away so I’m doing you a favor.”
The man just glared and motioned for me to get out. I was angry at the mean man and the fact that I had just lost my lucrative business. As I pulled my empty wagon home, my anger turned to deep thought about other ways to make money. I was already thinking about my next business venture.
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