I came to know Don Triplett late in his life when the newspaper industry — especially the Clarion Ledger — began to change and delivery issues became more problematic by the day for that daily paper. Don loved his newspapers — the Clarion Ledger, and this one — and all he asked was that he have timely delivery. We pretty much accomplished that, them, not so much.
Our front doorbell would ring and Don would come shuffling in — more times than I can count, however I’m sure he could tell us exactly how many right now if he were still alive, he died last Thursday — and tell me he needed my help again.
For some reason his paper carrier would just up and disappear without notice and without delivering the paper for days on end, and, well, Don needed his paper.
The carrier wouldn’t answer the phone, the voicemail box was either full or not set up, and calling the direct line to the paper office was no longer a direct line to the office, but a call center somewhere way far away from here.
Nearly every time we called them they tried to sell us something else or extend his subscription for however many papers he had missed or something along that line, that is when I could actually understand their language after finally navigating the automated system of punch this for that or punch that for this.
Don just wanted his daily paper on a daily basis. He wanted his crossword puzzle, especially.
Time and again the operator on the other end of the line would promise delivery would resume tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, and when Don didn’t show back up at our office, tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, I felt pretty sure the problem had been solved and was proud to have been able to help.
Inevitably, though, it wouldn’t last for long and the doorbell would ring and Don would come shuffling in again.
Finally, a few months ago, the doorbell rang, he shuffled in, and declared that he was ready to cancel the Clarion Ledger. I asked him was he sure and he assured me that he was more than sure.
I think I might have been a little bit excited to finally get to tell the long distance operator that we had had enough even though I knew it wasn’t her fault and she could only do what the higher ups at that institution told her to do. Still, though, I reveled in it a bit.
Checking one last time with Don, I dialed the number, did all the punch this for that and punch that for this business — by that time I knew Don’s telephone number better than I knew my own — and when a human voice finally came on the line I said, “I’m calling for Mr. Don Triplett, and we want to cancel our subscription to your paper.”
It was a man on the other end of the line this last time and he offered us this and that, and just about begged us to let them basically give us the paper, but Don said no, so I said no, and no it was. We got it canceled, a refund on the way, hung up, and wiped our hands clean of the Clarion Ledger for good.
I said, “Don, it’s done, the paper is cancelled,” and he said okay, thanked me, and then asked me if I knew how to get their digital edition on his telephone. I couldn’t help but laugh a little bit as I dialed the number again and punched this for that and punched that for this, recited Mr. Don Triplett’s home telephone number one last time, and got a lady at a call center somewhere far, far away, to cancel that refund and apply it to a “digital only” account for my friend.
Don didn’t have one of those big fancy iPhone XX0s but I went and sat next to him and we downloaded the app and got his account going, complete with ID and password, and before long we were swiping through the pages of the latest edition of the daily paper. At least as far as the crossword puzzle page, we swiped.
One other thing, Don may have been good at driving himself around town, but when it came to parallel parking that wasn’t really his cup of tea, so for the better part of the morning a couple of months ago during our digital format training, mine and Don’s, traffic was reduced pretty much to one lane in front of the Scott County Times. And to whoever the jerk in the pickup truck blowing his horn is, well, you know what you can to with that horn!
In the end, I suppose Don was must have been content with the modern technology version of the Clarion Ledger, because that was the last time the doorbell rang, and he shuffled through our door.
I’m sure glad I was able to help out while I could.
