Memories of a Northern Alberta Telegraph Messenger

A teenage boy takes a job delivering messages by bicycle during the Second World War.
Date: 1943

School was boring in 1943. I was fifteen years old and ready to earn money, instead of sitting and listening to the 'old' teacher at Westmount School. My Dad suggested I try for work in the telegraph business. He had been a Dominion Government telegraph operator in Northern Ontario years ago. We rode the "red and green" streetcar downtown to 100th Street and Jasper Avenue. The Calder streetcar was called the "red and green" because of signs on the front and back painted in these two colours.

Our first stop was the Canadian National Telegraphs office on 100th Street off Jasper Avenue. They were not hiring, so we walked around the corner west to the CPR building at 10012 Jasper Avenue. This five storied building with the ornate pillars housed several companies. The H.M.E. Evans company occupied the southeast corner on the main floor. We turned to the left and slowly walked down the magnificent rotunda to the NAR Telegraph counter. I will never forget the size of this area with marble floor, five foot high oak counters and at least fifteen foot ceilings. Along the west wall were the ticket offices of CP Steamships and Railways. Dominion Telegraphs and Northern Alberta Telegraphs (NAR) came next, followed by CP Airlines. Across the north wall CP Telegraphs had their offices. Also on this floor was a CNIB concession booth, telephone kiosks and the elevators. Other tenants in the building were Alberta Government Telephones and CFRN Radio.

We stopped at the NAR Telegraph office as the clerk at CNT said they were hiring. So they were - and I became a messenger. My salary was fifty dollars a month. The CN and CP messengers had smart uniforms, capes, parkas and a jaunty peaked cap. NAR did supply a cap with a badge and for rainy weather a black cape. I was only 5'2". The cape enveloped me from chin to ankles and the cap rested on my nose. In the summer I sported a pith helmet. Many jokes were made that all the clerks could see was the top of my helmet over the counter.

Most of the messengers rode their bikes to work. We thought nothing of riding our one speed bikes up McDougall Hill without stopping. Hitching a ride to the back of Scott Fruit or National Fruit two ton trucks and snitching a banana --or two--was a bonus.. A messenger name George was the winner when he unloaded a watermelon. The fruit companies stopped our forays by installing a canvas strip across the open backs of the trucks.

Delivering death notices was part of our job. The envelope had a black border. Our instructions were not to leave the customer alone until they had read the message. We also could stay with them until family came, or call neighbours to help. Because it was wartime, most of the telegrams dealt with the tragedy of young people dying far away. It was forbidden to telephone death messages.

We were on duty forty-eight hours a week. Skeleton staff on all major holidays including Christmas.. Our customers were very generous with tips and chocolates at Christmas time. We would be called to companies such as Imperial Oil, Bechtel, Price and Callahan, National and Scott Fruits, Hudson Bay Company (raw furs), Horne and Pitfield, and many, many more. All the gifts were appreciated. They were pooled and divided.. Sometimes the tips equaled a month's salary.

There was many stories of messengers being asked in for a drink, of ladies answering the door undressed, of people not paying their bills and I am sure they were all true.. Darn it, it never happened to me. Wonder if it was my pith helmet?

Our route was Edmonton, sometimes Beverly and Jasper Place. We picked up and delivered telegrams.. NAR business was mainly Northern Alberta. When a customer telephoned message to our office a due bill was written up. We took these due bills (which were regarded as cash) and collected the money owing. If the due bill was lost, the messenger was charged. A telegram was about fifty-seven cents. When we weren't on duty we sat on a bench where the office staff could keep an eye on us. We had a hockey team of sorts and took the CPR train to Calgary and Red Deer to play messengers from those cities. Good times were had by all.
I will close with memories of a winter with heavy snow, cruel temperatures and biting wind. The streets were not cleared and the ruts were deep and impossible to get out with a bicycle. I struggled down 100th Avenue going east. Behind me I heard the putt, putt of a large motorcycle. At the intersection I was able to turn north.. Behind me, bundled up in his buffalo coat was a smiling policeman. He stepped on the gas and roared through the intersection followed by a long string of cars.. Just another day in the life of a messenger.