The Flying Salesman

The Flying Salesman

I was five in 1964, and we lived in a trailer park in Greenwood, Indiana.  Mom and Dad both worked (Dad often had two jobs) in order to get ahead.  One summer day a salesman came by while I played in the front yard.  "Is your Daddy home?" the man asked.  I looked at him and very seriously said "Yes, but he doesn't like salesmen."  He just laughed and said thanks.  He went to the door and rang the bell. 

My father answered and the man asked him if he could show him the magazines he was selling.  My father told him thank you, but no thank you.  He had no interest in magazines, and they could not afford to purchase anything at that time.  The salesman told Dad that he was new and needed to practice.  Would Dad please let him tell him about his merchandise, if for nothing else, the experience would help the salesman.  Dad relented and invited him in.

He started asking where my father was from; then spoke of how beautiful Kentucky was, and how friendly the people were.  He went on to spend over an hour going over all of his products.  At the end of his presentation, he pulled out an order pad and started asking Dad for his personal information.  "What are you doing?" my father asked.  The salesman stated he was filling out an order for my father.  Dad said "I told you before you started, we cannot afford to buy anything."  "Do you mean your not going to buy anything at all?" the man asked incredulously.  "No." my father answered.

The salesman went "I can't believe you let me spend this much time, if you weren't going to buy anything!"  Dad said "I think you better leave."  The man goes "All of you hillbillies are cheap!"  My father was a big man, and at this point was getting angry.  He looked at the salesman and said "There's the door.  HIT IT!"  The man walked to the open front door and just had to say something else.  "Cheap bast--"

At this point Dad had had enough.  He grabbed the man by the shirt collar and the seat of his pants, kicked open the screen door, and threw the man off the front stoop.  As the guy went off the steps, it looked like he was running in mid air.  He hit the ground, ran face first into the trailer in front of us, and fell back onto the ground.  He jumped up and went running toward his car. 

I remember as he ran past, I called "I told you he didn't like salesmen!"  Some people just won't listen.