Monterio Bass stands outside of his "newspaper car" on Dec. 9 in the IHOP parking lots. He and his girlfriend having been living in the car for the past month. (Photo by Maria Saporta.)

The relationship one has with a newspaper delivery person combines anonymity and regularity.

Every day, someone you don’t know delivers a paper to your front door, giving you a printed window to our town and our world.

On Jan. 1, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution will cease printing the newspaper. That means the people who have been getting up in the dead of night to deliver our newspapers will have to figure out how to get by in a post-AJC print edition world.

My newspaper person is Monterio Bass, who has been delivering the paper to me for more than 15 years. The only relationship I’ve had with him up until now has been to send him a holiday bonus every year.

In mid-November I reached out to Bass, saying I wanted to write a Thanksgiving column to thank him for being such a dedicated career all these years.

Finally, I heard back from him on Dec. 7.

“Good morning, thanks for everything you are trying to do, but I’m going thru a little hard time now,” he wrote in a text.

I asked him if there was anything I could do.

“Don’t know what to say,” Bass wrote. “I’ve been in my car for a month now. Just your prayers will do.”

As any good journalist, I wanted to know more. But I also wanted to help someone I had never met, despite his daily presence in my life.

“It’s like loving a stranger,” Bass observed about his customers. “It’s like a message in a bottle.”

Bass, 45, agreed to meet with me and let me write a column about him. We met at the IHOP in Riverdale for two separate two-hour visits last week as he told me his story.

Monterio Bass on Dec 13 at the IHOP in Riverdale. (Photo by Maria Saporta.)

Both of his parents were drug addicts.

“Thank God I’m not a crack baby,” said Bass, who is a “Grady baby.” Life was not easy for Bass, who grew up in Bowen Homes and attended A.D. Williams Elementary School.

“It was bad growing up,” he said. “I didn’t finish high school. I dropped out during 10th grade when I didn’t make the basketball team. That was it. It took me going to jail to change me.”

Bass got arrested in 2008 for dealing drugs. “I sold drugs for fast money,” said Bass, who is the father of four children by two different women. “I did it to get money for my kids.”

After pleading guilty, he served several months in prison, where he began believing in God. He started working for the police, carrying out evictions, determined to get his life together.

“I’m glad I’ve gone through all that because I wouldn’t be the man I am today,” Bass said. Several times during our conversation Bass got emotional looking back on his life, appreciating his job delivering the AJC to customers in 30308, 30312 and 30318.

“I’ve got a plan, but I just have to wait,” Bass said.

Monterio Bass, a big sports fan, on Dec. 13 after we had eaten brunch at the IHOP in Riverdale. (Photo by Maria Saporta.)

The plan. Until mid-November, Bass and his girlfriend were staying in a hotel, paying $334 a week. They decided to live out of his car so they could save that money and put down a deposit and the first month’s rent on an apartment. She has been sleeping in the car while he delivered papers on his route during the early morning hours.

Bass had been an Uber driver until September when his “Uber car” got damaged when he was run off the road by another car. It will cost at least $1,200 to get that car working. His girlfriend’s car also broke down, and it will cost another $600 to fix it, giving her the ability to get to her job as a school bus driver.

Meanwhile, they have been living in his “newspaper car” staying at a Walmart parking lot along with about 15 to 20 people also living in cars.

“It gets cold. I really worry about her,” he said of his girlfriend of two years. “The two hardest things? Not having a bathroom and hot water. It’s my first time going through this.”

Delivering the newspaper has meant everything to Bass, saying it allowed him to put his oldest son through college.

“I started delivering the paper on Father’s Day 2010,” Bass said. “I started doing newspapers because I found out that was Martin Luther King’s first job. He was a paper boy.”

Bass and I bonded over Martin Luther King Jr., someone who also had shaped my life.

“I was delivering the paper to the King Center. It made me feel like I was part of him,” Bass said. “Then they quit taking the paper, but I kept throwing the paper there for five years or longer than that. It was a way of showing my appreciation.”

Now Bass also delivers the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal, but the AJC accounts for more than half of the papers he delivers. He’s not sure what will happen Jan. 1 when new routes will be designed and when the distribution pick-up facility will move from Sylvan Road to Tucker.

But his first thought goes to his customers.

“A lot of the older generation is not internet savvy,” said Bass, who worries about how they will stay informed. “A lot of people are just mad.”

When it comes to talking about himself, Bass admitted he has not reached out to family or his bosses. He is especially grateful for his supervisor since 2012 – Faye Andrews, who has been like a mom to him.

But he admits it has been hard swallowing his pride.

“I walk around like I’m a billionaire without money,” Bass said. “God opened my eyes. Every day I open my eyes and deliver the paper — 365 days a year, no matter the weather. I don’t even look at it like I’m going through anything.”

Monterio Bass tears up when he reads a card from two of his customers in Midtown. (Photo by Maria Saporta.)

Bass said he likes to read the AJC, especially the front page and the sports section. He remembered that his grandmother would read the paper every morning while drinking coffee. 

Sadly, his grandmother died when he was 16. “She didn’t live long enough to meet her grandchild,” said Bass, who had his first son when he was 17. His daughter gave birth on Nov. 19 to his granddaughter.

“I haven’t seen her. It will make me cry and make me emotional,” said Bass, who plans to meet his granddaughter before Christmas. He’s hoping that by then he and his girlfriend will be living in an apartment.”

“I’ve got a plan,” he said repeatedly. “When God opened my eyes, I realized it’s not about bills. It’s about purpose.” 

Delivering papers has given him a purpose. 

“It’s helping people, Bass said. “I’m very thankful. It feels good to work. I don’t want people to feel sorry for me. I made my bed and I can lay in it.”

During our second lunch meeting, Bass brought a card that a couple in Midtown had written to him.

Dear Monterio, 

We are so sorry that the AJC is ceasing its paper operation. You have been the most faithful imaginable paper carrier — no one believes you put the papers in the mail slot, but not all the way in so you don’t wake us up! (We brag to our friends about your service!) If you ever need a reference about your reliability, accuracy or kindness, please let us know! We wish you all the best in whatever your next chapter brings!

Bass started tearing up while reading the card. The relationship with his customers has been meaningful, and it’s one that he hopes will not end with the demise of the AJC. He hopes people will subscribe to the NYT and the WSJ so he can continue delivering papers. 

“I’ve been living on newspapers for so long,” Bass said. “The newspaper actually took my family out of poverty.”

Note to readers:

This is the first time I have ever set up a GoFundMe page. But I so wanted to help Bass get through this rough stretch as he adapts to life after the end of the AJC’s print edition. I have set a goal of $15,000 to help him secure a place to live and make the necessary vehicle repairs. To contribute, please click here.

Maria Saporta, executive editor, is a longtime Atlanta business, civic and urban affairs journalist with a deep knowledge of our city, our region and state. From 2008 to 2020, she wrote weekly columns...

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8 Comments

  1. Thank you for revealing the story of a behind the scenes hero who has helped to keep those of us still reading the newspaper informed everyday (the old fashioned way). I had an 80 paper route in rural IL during high school which put me on the path to purchasing my 1st bicycle and instilled a strong work ethic which lasted my entire career. Yesterday I was informed by the WSJ that, starting Jan., my newspaper will begin arriving via USPS during my normal mail delivery at the end of the day. After 30+ yrs, I will be canceling my subscription. I am sorry for those who have worked so hard to ensure our papers were waiting for us first thing in the morning and the impact it will have on their lives. It’s the end of an era.

  2. Maria, thanks so much for writing about Monterio. He also delivers the paper to our home. He often throws in a New York Times or a Wall Street Journal, as he did this morning (extra crossword puzzle!). He doesn’t just toss the paper in the driveway. He comes up the stoop and leaves the paper inside the screen door. Thanks for setting up the GoFundMe. I hope his plan works out.

  3. Maria — thank you for writing this story about Monterio and about setting up a GoFundMe. As a lifelong AJC subscriber, losing the connection to our newspaper delivery person is yet another reminder of how meaningful human connections are being lost. Your ability to tell the story from a human perspective remains a bright light.

  4. Jennifer, Steve and Susan,
    Thank you all for your warm comments. It really does feel like it’s the end of an era. I used to get my milk delivered from Mathis Dairy. I wrote a similar column about my milk delivery guy. The world is changing, and not always for the better.
    Thank you all for contributing to the GoFundMe campaign. It will make a real difference in his life.
    Maria

  5. Maria – Your interview with Monterio literally brought me to tears.

    Absolutely beautiful and gut-punching all at the same time. How decisions and job changes can shape a life. He has what it takes to survive this AJC change…I believe in him too after reading your piece.

    Like many from my era, my first job ever was a paper girl, on my bike in Sarasota, Florida for the afternoon edition. I was in middle school. My brother had been a paper boy in West Virginia when he was in middle school, so I knew I could do the job!

    I had some great customers too who I remember fondly to this day – an older man, Mr. Marble was one of them who lived along Philippi Creek on 5+ acres of land…so I had to ride my bike quite a way to deliver to him. I felt he was kind of lonely so he would want to chat with me like I was his granddaughter. It made me a little late to my other customers, but I didn’t care. I felt he needed the interaction. His land is now a subdivision with like 15-20 homes on it…but the street is called Marble Dr. so he’s still “alive” in a way.

    Anyway, thanks for highlighting Monterio’s contribution to your life, and making me reflect on my own first real job as a paper carrier.

    I hope your GoFundMe campaign really helps him and his girlfriend. That is so nice of you to do.

  6. Hi Maria, Thank you for writing this piece. Sadly, much of the lack of trust in the AJC, along with the concomitant decline in readership, stems from Cox/AJC leadership: Cox Enterprises was the largest contributor to Cop City, making a $10 million donation to the APF in 2022. Yet, the newsroom routinely omits this glaring conflict of interest (Bloomberg broke this story) from its coverage. Additionally, the AJC never apologized after falsely accusing Richard Jewell of the 1996 Olympic Park bombing, while several media outlets and even Tom Brokaw, publicly acknowledged this mistake. The AJC dug in its heels and litigated. Still, it is sad to see the AJC end its print edition, which I understand is still profitable.

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