My early working experience was similar to most of my friends growing up in Edmonton: we had paper routes. I delivered the Star Weekly (1952), a Toronto Newspaper that was delivered house to house in Western Canada once a week. That newspaper had the best comic section of any of the newspapers. My second route was delivering the Edmonton Journal, a daily on Monday thru Saturday. The money earned from those routes was really pocket change but I could afford to buy the model airplanes that I loved to build and collect.
My first real job came years later working in a dry cleaning plant, Flowers' Dry Cleaning. It was a Mom and Pop establishment with four other employees. Mrs. Flowers managed the plant while her husband drove the pick-up and delivery truck. Since my family used their dry cleaning services, we got to know Mr. Flowers when he came to the house to pick up clothing. He was the person who suggested I apply for the job when the plant had an opening.
My job involved several tasks. First was opening and sorting the bundles of clothing as they arrived in the plant. This involved tagging each garment to identify it as it passed through the cleaning process. I also turned out the pockets of the garments to make sure pens and such like objects did not go through the wash. The collection of pens gathered over time was remarkable.
Another task was spotting the garments to remove stains before loading the clothing into the washer. The spotting gun used air pressure and you had to be careful not to blow a hole in the garment while spotting. Next was into the washer. When the wash cycle was complete, the clothing was transferred to the extractor that removed all the solvent from the garments. The solvent was hard on the hands and Mrs. Flowers stocked a supply of hand cream for the employees to use. Finally the garments were placed into the dryers and then on hangers and moved into the pressing room.
There was one part of the job I disliked and that was going in on Saturday morning to clean the filters from the extractor and the washing machine. The filtrate started out as a dry, white powder and ended up a harden black mass of stinky slag. I also cleaned the lint buildup in the dryers before washing all the floors to keep the plant spic and span.
The Flowers were an interesting couple to work for. They were of Ukrainian heritage and, as far as I know, had no children so their business was their life. They had no qualms about having their marital squabbles in front of the staff (something I never saw at home) and they went at it heartily tooth and nail. Hearing the threats they made to each other, I began to worry what I might find when I came into work one morning (I fantasized about finding a body in the washer). They were generous to the staff and I still remember the thirty-two pound turkey she cooked one year for the Christmas party. The drumsticks were enormous. I don't recall how long I worked there (several years) but I do know the business changed hands when the Flowers retired and it may no longer be in operation.
