By Michael E. Ruane
Philadelphia Inquirer, June 28, 1990
 

He rides like a jockey, hunched forward and standing on the pedals so his legs take all the pounding.

Nimble as a circus star, he threads traffic jams - hopping curbs, and running the tight gantlets of parking meters, side-view mirrors and double- parked delivery trucks.
 

His job requires physical skill, street knowledge and a mettle like a matador's: "Nerve," he calls it, tapping the side of his head with his forefinger.

He is Jeff DellaPenna, 21, a cyclist/messenger for Kangaroo Couriers Inc. And in a line of work whose demands often result in a fast burnout, DellaPenna, with a tenure of three years, is among Philadelphia's longest surviving veterans of the macadam.

With the approach of the dog days of summer - a punishing but lucrative season for a courier - DellaPenna, who lives in the Port Richmond section, paused this week to explain how he has lasted.

At times, it has been rough.

He is on his third helmet. His stubby-framed, red 10-speed mountain bike, nicknamed Kyrie, has only a few of its original parts. (He broke the frame once when he collided with a parking meter.) And he has suffered a broken collarbone and a ton of "road rashes" in spills from the bike.

His garb is simple, slightly paramilitary, but with a certain esprit: Sneakers. Combat fatigue pants, with lots of pockets for carrying things. Black T-shirt. Padded cycling gloves. Two silver earrings in his left ear. A blue bandanna around his head. And a black, ribbed, high-impact plastic helmet.

He carries everything from payroll checks to computer tapes, legal documents to architect's drawings. His runs can be as short as a few blocks, or as long as a 15-mile trek to Torresdale. And his cargo can be as small as a single envelope or as large as a 30-pound box.

His chief tool, aside from his trusty vehicle, is a large paper carrier's bag in which the parcels are placed. He wears it slung on his back and fastened under his left arm with a slip knot that he can tighten or loosen depending on the size of the package.

Thus outfitted, he appears at the dispatching desk of Kangaroo Couriers, 2012 Sansom St., most mornings about 8:30 ready for another day of jousting on the streets.

"When I first started," he said during an interview, "I know I did not have the temper for it. But I got it now. You either get it or you get out.

"It's a science," he said. "It's an art. I mean it all involves nerve: how much nerve you got. I've had accidents where you lose it; but you get it back."

It is a science, though, that others can't or won't master.

"They usually burn out," said DellaPenna's boss, Jack Wood, the owner of Kangaroo. "Bicycle riding down in Center City's pretty tough anymore. The normal life expectancy of a bike messenger is probably about, you know, nine months, with the automobiles and the traffic situation.

"It's a hazardous job," he said, "and they're hustling all the time . . . and I guess that creates a faster burnout, really."

Wood said the couriers are paid $1.40 per delivery or pickup in Center City. So the more runs they make, the more money they earn. DellaPenna said he makes about $220 a week.

Wood, a former Western Union dispatcher, said he had about 30 couriers, most of whom ride bikes. About half a dozen work on foot. He said there are about 15 firms in the courier business in Philadelphia.

"You need a certain type of person to ride that bicycle," he said.

It takes "a nice kid" who should be "offensive, but not too offensive, gutsy, a little brash, and like a street cowboy."

DellaPenna fits the mold. He "is a good worker," Wood said. "He's honest. . . . He's a hustler."

DellaPenna's hustling starts from Kangaroo's three-story stone storefront on Sansom Street, where he picks up his cargo and destination slips. He has had to make as many as 18 stops per run when things are busy.

And things tend to be busiest in the worst weather. "The heaviest business is when it gets like to be 95 degrees, real hot and humid, or when it's really cold," he said. "It gets nuts."

But he likes the work.

"It's kind of convenient," he said. "It's comfortable, actually." Too much so, perhaps. "I've been at it too long. Even the boss is saying, 'When are you going to get a real job?' "

Plus, DellaPenna said: "I spend too much time in elevators."

Still, there is pride and challenge in the work.

"It's just the thrill sometimes," he said. "Just being out on the road and all this . . . (chaos) around you and sometimes how much it amazes people. I've had school-bus loads of kids come in from out of town, and you ride by and they say, 'Look at this guy!' Dipping in and out between the school buses. That's fun."

But as a veteran of the streets he said he would have one fundamental piece of advice for a rookie courier:

"Avoid the cars."