With nothing more than street and house lights to illuminate his way, Dante peddles through his southeastern Idaho neighborhood, tossing newspapers left and right with expert precision.
People are rarely awake at such an early hour, but when they see their paper rolled up tightly and placed on their front stoop, they know Dante has been to their house even before their morning coffee is ready.
At a little after 4 a.m., Dante rolls out of bed, shakes off the morning cobwebs and heads down to the garage to start rolling and binding newspapers for delivery. Not having to think about what he’s doing, Dante rolls each paper, binds them and drops them into a pile on the garage floor.
Once he’s rolled the seventy-first and final paper, he dumps them evenly into two bags before heading out on the first half of his route. Barely 20 minutes after he woke up, Dante is on his mountain bike, touring the neighborhood and tossing papers. He is one of the few “newsies” who still delivers the paper from a bike.
“I actually enjoy riding the route on my bike,” said Dante, who is 33. “I can get it done faster and it gives me time to think.”
Dante took over the route from his mother when he was 12. It’s twenty-one years later, and he’s able to drive, but he is still on his bike every morning before the sun begins to rise.
He rides around every corner, down every court and through every cul-de-sac. Sometimes he has a house light to see where he’s throwing the paper, but most times, the front door is in total darkness. It doesn’t matter for Dante. Each welcome mat is a bullseye he hits with regularity.
After reaching back and heaving the last paper, he turns down his street, pulls up to his garage door and punches in the code that will open the door and lead him back to bed. Before the door is even finished opening, his bike is parked and he’s making his way into his house to find sleep.
It’s only an hour of work, but for most people, the day cannot start until they reach out their front door, unwrap the paper and enjoy what’s black and white and read all over.
People are rarely awake at such an early hour, but when they see their paper rolled up tightly and placed on their front stoop, they know Dante has been to their house even before their morning coffee is ready.
At a little after 4 a.m., Dante rolls out of bed, shakes off the morning cobwebs and heads down to the garage to start rolling and binding newspapers for delivery. Not having to think about what he’s doing, Dante rolls each paper, binds them and drops them into a pile on the garage floor.
Once he’s rolled the seventy-first and final paper, he dumps them evenly into two bags before heading out on the first half of his route. Barely 20 minutes after he woke up, Dante is on his mountain bike, touring the neighborhood and tossing papers. He is one of the few “newsies” who still delivers the paper from a bike.
“I actually enjoy riding the route on my bike,” said Dante, who is 33. “I can get it done faster and it gives me time to think.”
Dante took over the route from his mother when he was 12. It’s twenty-one years later, and he’s able to drive, but he is still on his bike every morning before the sun begins to rise.
He rides around every corner, down every court and through every cul-de-sac. Sometimes he has a house light to see where he’s throwing the paper, but most times, the front door is in total darkness. It doesn’t matter for Dante. Each welcome mat is a bullseye he hits with regularity.
After reaching back and heaving the last paper, he turns down his street, pulls up to his garage door and punches in the code that will open the door and lead him back to bed. Before the door is even finished opening, his bike is parked and he’s making his way into his house to find sleep.
It’s only an hour of work, but for most people, the day cannot start until they reach out their front door, unwrap the paper and enjoy what’s black and white and read all over.
