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A part of the IAGenWeb and USGenWeb Projects Who's Who in 1921 & 1922 Clifford I. Thoma |
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"The Fairfield Tribune"
Friday, March 25, 1921
Page SIX
NO. 8
CLIFFORD IRRER THOMA
Cease from your occupation for a moment, pause from your labors, desist from frivilous thoughts and give your serious attention while you make the acquaintance of Mr. Thoma--Mr. Clifford Irrer Thoma, if you please--he of paint, glass and town boosting fame, the same Cliff some of you used to call "Tubby" when you were kids.
The more remote the past with which history deals, the more interesting it is; we are sufficiently familiar with the recent not to care to have to read it, but the long ago is something which we may have forgotten if we never know it, therefore it is news to us. All of which is by way of explaining why we choose to present our hero in the guise of a newsboy; also, doing so will bring more forcefully to your mind how a boy may get his start from most humble beginnings.
Back in the days when Pete Bosesn started a daily Tribune Cliff was the star carrier boy of the lot which delivered that ill-fated publication to the people of Fairfield. Cliff was easily the best carrier the Tribune had; he got a scoop on the other kids because he owned a pony and could make his deliveries quick. That is to say, he made quick delivery if he wasn't delayed about getting on his pony. For Cliff had to have the help of two or three good, strong men to get him on the pony, being built something on the same general lines as Fatty Arbuckle, only more so. Cliff never has amounted to much north and south but he has expanded some east and west. Cliff was what you might call a pretty good chunk of a boy, weighing some eighteen stone; as a man he adds a great deal of weight to any conference or other matter which gets his attention.
When, after some eight of ten lean and hungry weeks, Pete Boesen decided to put his daily newspaper peacefully away to its last resting place, Clifford Irrer Thoma found himself in the army of the unemployed. It was a serious blow to the boy. The world was undoubtedly loser by this catastrophe for Cliff would probably have remained with the paper and have now been in the enjoyable and extremely lucrative pursuit of enlightening the world and moulding public opinion through the columns of the Press; it is a staggeringly daring possibility to consider, yet who knows but that Cliff might have reached heights undreamed of anl (sic) now even be editor of the Tribune. However that may be, Cliff's newspaper career was short-lived and he turned to commercial pursuits.
After Cliff got away from the public school and short trousers age, he went back east to Yale, or Harvard, or some of those places to see if there was anything to be learned there that he didn't already know. When he came back to Fairfield and went into his father's drug store he had acquired a lot of useful information and some very original ideas. He and his father run the drug business for awhile, but there wasn't enough action in it to suit Cliff.
"Dad," he said to his father one day, "what's the use of piking along like we are? Let's get into the big game. Sell out this bunch of patent medicines and to into the paint and wallpaper game on the wholesale plan."
It dazed Lou at first, but, as has been stated Cliff can show some weight in conversation, and he finally had his way. 'Twarn't all easy sailing by any means--this wholesale business; there were some few ups and downs in the game. But Cliff, because of his build, always had one great advantage, even as a boy. He was built on what may be called circular, or circumferential, not to say globular, lines. The kids all learned that, in a scrap with him, it wasn't worth while to knock him over. Cliff didn't have much more top and bottom than a ball and you never could tell when he was down. Same way in business. When it looked like Fate had handed him a clean knock-out Clifford Irrer was merely turning over. Under such circumstances Fate never had a look-in with Cliff.
As the ups in the business began to largely outnumber the downs, Cliff and his father abandoned the wall paper business and confined themselves to the paint and glass business. Cliff found himself pretty badly cramped in the quarters then occupied, so the firm put up a fine big building not long ago. Cliff insisted on a big building--he wanted a lot of room for himself. Since the firm is doing a tremendous business in a dozen states, there is no longer any room to spare either for the business or for Cliff.
It may be gathered from these remarks that Clifford Irrer Thoma is a personage of some physical ponderosity. He is all of that, not to say anything of his corpulency, obesity, portliness, rotundity, stoutness, aviordupois, bulk or fat. In fact Clifford Irrer is a pretty sizeable short of a chap--that is, on the level.
Clifford Thoma is pretty much in demand on town bosting (sic) projects. Folks say that if Cliff will put his weight behind a proposition it is pretty sure to go forward--naturally, it would be disastrous if he should lie down on it. And Clifford Irrer Thoma likes better than anything else to get in behind one of such propositions and put the thing over. In doing so he not only uses all his weight but he makes use of his head and his energy--and there's planty of people in Fairfield will tell you that Clifford Irrer Thoma is pretty long with the one and strong with the other.
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