Growing Up . . . . .

. . . A Calendar Maker


Do you have a standup calendar about four by six inches on your desk?

If you do, turn it over and look for the words "Ad-A-Day." If you find those words, you have in your hands something to remind you of Old Newsie.

I had not thought of those popular desk calendars in years until I read the obituary of a 90-year-old man who hired me in 1946 just after I got out of the U. S. Army and was looking for a job.

I was freed from the army in February that year and plans were made to marry in May. Getting a job was a bit difficult because jobs were scarce. I'd had three but they didn't work out.

In my case there was a complication because starting to work just a few weeks before getting married posed this problem: time off for a honeymoon.

Although I was collecting a bit of money from the government's 52-20 club, an exclusive club for veterans, and could have delayed that job until after a honeymoon, I had an ultimatum from my bride-to-be.

"We are NOT getting married until you are working". I went to work at Ad-A-Day. Then I took the bull by the horns, went to the white-haired Carroll N. Cross who had hired me and explained my problem.

"No problem," said Mr. Cross, "work the three weeks until your wedding, get married, take 10 days for a honeymoon and then come back to work. We'll pay you for those 10 days as a wedding gift."

What a nice solution to my big problem. Then came more. A week before the wedding, somebody called my bride-to-be and asked her to come to the plant on Spring Street Friday morning.

She did and as she entered the place a dozen girls shouted "suprise" and my intended found herself in the midst of one of those things women call a bridal shower. None of them knew her.

Making those calendars was an exacting job, a bit messy conidering all the gluing that had to be done and eventually the job petered out for a spell as the designer sought better manufacturing ways.

I of course had to make a salary and thus I went onto another job. Ad-A-Day resumed the desk calendar manufacture a few months later but I was then settled in a new printing positon.

But Ad-A-Day didn't forget their first calendar printer and his new wife. When Yarntangler made an appearance in early 1947 (March 3 if you need to now) one of the first gifts for the new baby and her mother came from Spring Street, the Ad-A-Day plant, now still existing, a 65-year-old fixture in my hometown.

Old Newsie

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