Dutch Boy

I saw this picture on Shorpy recently:

source: https://www.shorpy.com/node/27808 

This reminded me of my Grampa, Charles A. Olson.  He was a paint salesman for National Lead in Wisconsin from roughly 1926 until sometime in the mid 1950s.  He would travel around calling on the local paint stores, taking orders, solving problems and probably doing more than a little schmoozing.  We used to go over to see the grandparents probably every other weekend.  They lived in a stone house near Lincoln Creek Parkway in Milwaukee.  Grampa used to tell stories about his life as a salesman.  But I'm afraid that since I was a kid at the time I didn't pay much attention.  He started in the old days of salesmanship when the trainees would go to the factory and learn about how paint was made and about all the technical aspects.  One thing I remember is that my Grampa always took the company line on lead paint even though his best friend, Harvey (a lawyer), would remonstrate with him:  "Charlie, we're talking about kids !"

As is often the case with salesmen, as they progress they move to newer, bigger territories.  I know my Dad mentioned Appleton and Milwaukee but there were probably more intermediate places.  I suspect that during the summer my Dad must have accompanied my Grampa on some of his calls - all I know is that when I'd go into a paint store in the 1960s with my Dad I'd inevitably hear one of the old timers behind the counter say: "is that Billy Olson ?"  :)

My Grampa had a stroke in the mid 1950s - about the time I was born.  My Grandmother told us that they were driving to church on Sunday and at one point, instead of making his usual turn my Grandfather kept driving straight.  That was when she knew something was wrong.  Fortunately it was a fairly mild stroke and he recovered but the company refused to allow him to keep selling his usual territory.  Since a lot of driving was involved this was probably a reasonable decision but I'm sure it hurt him.  In addition he would have had to shift to an inside sales position somewhere in Chicago.  So he retired.  He took other jobs afterwards, he was a janitor at The Milwaukee Journal  when I was a kid.   

All I remember is that when I knew him he never drove anywhere or went to church either.

After he died my Dad gave me his old watch:

I take it out and wind it once in a while - it looks neat but doesn't keep super great time anymore.

Best Regards,
Chuck, WB9KZY
http://wb9kzy.com/ham.htm