PAPERBOYS AT A CANBERRA NEWSAGENCY IN 1967
By Ron "Slacky" Baxter
In 1967 I was a 14 or 15 year old schoolboy attending
Dickson High and working after school for a bloke I will call Ray McGillicutty who owned the newsagency at a local shopping centre. Why I know it was 1967 is
because I can recall seeing headlines in the papers about the 6 day war in
Israel for some time. I worked with two
other paperboys, Brownie (Owen Brown) and Tag (Doug McTaggart), who were also
in my year at Dickson High.
We were not really paid by the hour. We were paid $2.00 for a
5 day week in which we worked for a minimum of 2 hours every afternoon. This
came to 20 cents an hour if we worked two hour days, but we usually worked in
excess of the 2 hours. Even though $2.00 could obviously buy far more than it
can today it was still appalling money for the time, even at kid's rates. We had
to supply our own bikes and got no allowance for it. The two dollars per week
wage had apparently remained unchanged for several years.
Our job entailed first making sure the papers had come
in from Sydney. When they were late we had to sit around waiting
for them, realising we were not earning extra money for our time and that we
had to wait that much longer before we could knock off and go to the Dickson
Pool. My run was the longest and hilliest. The other two runs were less
difficult but by no means easy.
The papers we had to deliver were the Mirror, and at a
later stage the Sun, although it may have been the other way around. Things
were manageable when we only had the one paper to deliver, but when we were
given the extra paper it increased our workload by about 50%, and on Wednesdays,
when the editions were extra thick, I had to go back to the newsagency to pick
up a second load. I did not have the strength to take them all in one go. I did
try once, but after going arse-up I did not try again.
Having to go back of course delayed my knock-off time.
If I was asked to give my opinion of our boss at the
time, Ray McGillicutty, I would say he was a BLANK and a BLANK. He looked
to be middle aged, and if he is alive today I would not be surprised
if he still has his lunch money from preschool. When his wife came in to assist
in the busier times she would not talk to him. I don’t know if this was because they had a close marriage and she was busy and entirely committed to staying focused or if it was because she also believed
he was a BLANK and BLANK.
We did not like the fact that we had to deliver the
extra newspapers, as it meant more time on the job without any financial reward,
so the three of us discussed our situation on the back landing.
Brownie and Tag
decided that because our workload had increased by 50% we should hit McGillicutty
for a raise of $1 per week, which would bring our wage up to a whole $3.00 per
week, or 30 cents per hour. I agreed.
We decided to draw straws to see who would approach
him to ask for the wage rise. To do this Brownie got hold of some matches, and
I drew the shortest match. It was only recently I found out Brownie had sneakily
done something with the matches to ensure I got the shortest one.
After accepting what I thought was my bad luck I went
back into the store and sheepishly approached McGillicutty while the other boys
stayed outside. I asked him for the raise, explaining to him that we thought it
was only fair that we should be paid 50% more considering our workload had
increased by 50%. McGillicutty probably thought our request was exorbitant but decided
he would give some ground and offer us instead a rise of a whole 20 cents per
week, or 2 cents per hour. He said it was a case of take it or leave it.
I went back and told Brownie and Tag what his offer
was, and I could see by Brownie’s face he was feeling a surge of rage after
realising how much he thought he was being exploited and how powerless he was to do
anything about it. After deciding we should all resign rather than take it Brownie was very keen to tell him the three of us were quitting,
so he marched into his office and gave him the news.
Rather than be dictated to by bolshie kids he told us we
could finish up after our shift. We agreed, but it was a big mistake on his
part because we caused havoc by giving people the wrong
papers or throwing them into neighbour’s houses.
McGillicutty confronted us when we came in after
finishing our final shift and told us of the complaints he had received. He would probably have received many more after we left as his customers discovered their
papers were missing. It was my first effort at industrial sabotage and it made
me feel really good.
After we had finished up we let people know what we thought of him and how badly we believed we had been exploited. I am unsure
if he found any replacement paperboys after we left because for some
time we saw him delivering the papers by himself in his convertible.
We laughed when we saw him. I would give him the traditional two fingers; not the single American
finger kids of today use.
If I am to reflect on the incident I believe that McGillicutty was not just a BLANK; I believe he was a stupid BLANK. His actions provided me with a very valuable lesson, particularly since I have been self-employed for most of my working life. I firmly believe that if employers are not prepared to pay their staff what they are worth they will usually be shooting themselves in the foot.
Footnote- Our mate, Brownie, who appeared in this story died in October 2013. He was a good bloke.
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