They Let Them All In

by Karen Richman

There was nothing unusual at all about it.

There’d be a knock at the door usually in the middle of the day. In most cases, the only one home at that time was a housewife, for back then, few women worked outside the home. They certainly didn’t lounge around watching soaps and eating bon-bons, they worked hard keeping the home clean and attractive and took great pleasure in doing so. They put a lot of thought into meal planning while carefully eyeing the budget and were thoroughly dedicated to their families.

So when a knock came at the front door, it was always thrown wide open either to a neighbor borrowing a cup of sugar, the mailman delivering a package, or more often, a door-to-door salesman. Growing up back in the ‘50s, it seemed like someone was always knocking on our front door, and when I was home from school on vacation or because I had chicken pox or a sore throat, I was always delighted to meet the salesmen my mother would welcome in. Today, the t hought of a woman all alone in the house letting in a male who was a complete stranger would be unheard of, but back then no one thought about untoward scenarios because they simply did not happen.

When that delicious knock came at the door, I would peer down the stairway to see who it might be and what treasures they had in their oversized large satchel. I especially loved the Fuller Brush man, dressed in a suit and tie, who always had so many different and unique ways to make cleaning a home easier. He usually carried a mop or sweeper under one arm and his case in the other. And when he opened that case, my eyes grew wide looking at all the cleaning solutions, polishes, laundry products, and “things that will make life easier for you and your Mom.”

Mom almost always bought something. We were a one-car family back then, and with my Dad at work all day, Mom couldn’t easily get to a supermarket, so this visit filled a need. My mother almost always put th e kettle on for coffee, and if there was a box of cookies in the pantry, she opened it, and together we three shared some time. Sharing some time with a stranger, then buying something from the well-dressed man who probably had to constantly rely on doors being opened in order to feed his own family, necessitating his pounding the pavement six days a week, rain or shine.

My absolute favorite door-to-door salesman was the vacuum cleaner guy because he dealt in drama, and how I loved that drama! He usually showed up in the evening because his was a high-ticket item, and he wanted to insure that both parents would be at home. He wanted to avoid the excuse of, “I want to think it over and talk it over with my husband,” because that meant a return visit and also lessened his chance of success.

Therefore, his presentation was a show, a show that began and ended with the power of suction. He produced a bag full of sand, grit, and dog hair, asked if it were okay, and before my parents could answer, he poured it on the carpet. My usually mild-mannered father would raise an eyebrow and emit a low growl, but my mother shot him “the look,” and he regained his composure. But there was nothing to worry about because the vacuum always did its job.

After WWII, Encyclopedia Britannica had strong, hard-working salesmen who began dragging vol ume after volume from house to house trying to convince parents that their children would be smarter and get better grades if they purchased a set. In 1996, they took their entire sales force of 2300 off the road, and door to door went to the internet.

The Fuller Brush Company which was established in 1906 and at one time employed thousands of door-to-door salespeople, still has a few stalwarts doing it the old-fashioned way because they have established loyal customers over the years who continue to enjoy this person-to-person commerce (Massachusetts actually has three men who still go door-to-door). The company has a very extensive website, so Fuller Brush continues to exist with seven-figure online sales and packages delivered by faceless people who unceremoniously dump them on doorsteps. There is no face to their business any longer as there isn’t to most of these companies that have either faded into history or onto the internet. The American family is rarely home during the day, and those who are don’t open the doors to strangers.

Fuller Brush. Encyclopedia Britannica. Kirby, Eu reka, and Hoover vacuum cleaners. Bibles. Venetian blinds. The Avon Lady. It was a wonderful era. A time when people trusted, when salesmen worked hard but honestly, to sell good products to good people, and when smiles were always welcomed because there were no strangers. No one was afraid. They let them all in.

Nothing unusual about it at all.