It was discovered inside the former Moser News Agency building a few years ago during liquidation of contents.

It's an old, beat-up newspaper vending machine from the 1960s, days of the Tamaqua Evening Courier, 10 cents a copy."This needs to stay in town," I said. So I shelled out $75 and loaded it on my truck.My mind wandered back to a day 50 years ago when I delivered the Courier for Bill Moser, news agency owner.I carried about 80 papers through the hilly South Ward, climbing to the top of Hunter Street, then on to the top of Orwigsburg, where it was muddy. Construction was underway for a new high school, set to open in 1968.A kind, elderly customer on Penn Street tipped me a few times a month, usually on a Thursday."Here's two bits," he'd say, handing me a quarter in appreciation after I climbed steep steps to his front door.My paper route paid $2.50 a week. I soon added a second route of another 80 or so papers, destined for West and East Broad and Rowe streets, boosting my weekly income to $5.Good money. And I was rich. Not so much because of payday, but because of the fascinating people I met along the way.At lower Penn Street was Margaret Brown. She was always happy to see me and would invite me in to chat."OK," I'd say. "But just for a minute or two. There are people waiting for their paper."Mrs. Brown was leader of the Tamaqua Senior Citizens Kitchen Band. They'd take common kitchen implements and play them like musical instruments. A washboard could be a guitar, pots and pans were like drums and cymbals, and so on.This group was cool. They weren't about to dethrone The Beatles, but they certainly were entertaining.Another customer was 85-year-old Anna Weldy Ellick Logan. She'd sit on a glider on the wraparound porch of her Victorian at the corner of Rowe and Nescopec. Always a blanket over her legs, even in July.She had been a blossoming teen of the 1890s and lived a charmed life. She was a descendant of the Weldy Powder Works founder and an heiress, thus a woman of privilege and a child of the Industrial Revolution.She'd tell me stories of her days as a debutante in Victorian Tamaqua. Mrs. Logan regaled me with details about society during the gilded age. Her vivid descriptions captured my imagination and piqued my curiosity about history in a way that school lessons never could.She married twice. First hubby, Guy Ellick, died in 1932. The second, Ira Logan, passed in 1956."Yes, I lived a full life," she'd say. "I always enjoyed myself. It's important for you to enjoy yourself."I could see she adored the love around her, not so much the money.She lived to age 95, the final survivor of her family and the last living member of the Tamaqua High School Class of 1898.A public sale was held at her house to settle the estate. I attended the auction hoping to bid on something, anything, simply to have some kind of remembrance.I bought a pile of miscellaneous items, what they call a "box lot." Inside was Anna's high school diploma from the eighth commencement exercise of Tamaqua High. A rarity. I fitted it to an antique frame and have cherished it more than 40 years. It's now 118 years old and believed to be the oldest existing diploma from the school. In fact, the school district borrowed it to display at their 100th commencement 18 years ago.To me, it's personal and precious. It's a warm memory of a timeless smile and a gracious lady who reached back to the late 1800s to give me firsthand accounts of life in a magical era.When I finish downsizing, I'll donate the ornate, oversized diploma to the Tamaqua Historical Society Museum, along with the class pennant. That, too, is likely the oldest known example from the school.I intend to donate the newspaper vending machine, too. It belongs in the museum to be shared. After all, the Evening Courier is a valued memory for many, not only me.The paycheck of $2.50 a week to deliver the Courier was modest, even for that time. As for the customers, they were not only valued, but precious.The experience of being a paperboy was priceless. It taught me a lesson straight from Mrs. Logan.Do things you enjoy.The most important part of a job isn't necessarily the paycheck.And the best things in life aren't measured in dollars and cents.