A few of my former coworker friends were familiar with missing toilet paper long before this hoarding problem we face today.

Twice at the paper mill in Western Kentucky there were toilet paper issues.

The most recent event was five years ago, shortly before the mill closed. As the closing date grew closer, our purchasing department was instructed to curtail restocking certain items. One of the items they figured we could do without when the mill closed was toilet paper. They wanted enough, but not too much. In the final days before they locked the gates it became a juggling act to keep enough on hand. Then it became apparent that we would probably run out.

An astute worker in our storeroom department realized that a catastrophe was unfolding. She took it upon herself to load a golf cart with the remaining rolls and drove around the mill handing out a single roll to each employee with a warning to use it sparingly. There would be no more.

That was the moments that the severity of our situation was dire. Folks used what was left in the restrooms sparingly before using their own private stash. As a result, on my last day I walked out with my roll still in tact. I put it on a bookshelf in my home office to remind me of the “end times “ of my paper making career.

The other toilet paper issue that occurred at the mill wasn’t due to a shortage of the white gold, but rather an over abundance. The situation happened in the early 70s, a few years before I began working there.

We shipped a lot of paper out by rail. The railroad would push an empty boxcar up to the loading docks, and guys that worked in shipping would clean it out. Then they’d fill it up with large rolls of printing paper before shipping it out.

Well, one day the railroad shoved in a car that wasn’t empty. When the guys went to clean out the boxcar they discovered it was full of, you guessed it, toilet paper.

Eureka! Free toilet paper for everyone. Department managers got their share. Hourly employees got their share. Car trunks and pickup trucks loaded to the hilt left the mill. It was as if everyone had been in the audience of an Oprah Winfrey show. “You get a case of toilet paper. You get a case of toilet paper. You get a case of toilet paper! Everybody gets a case of toilet paper!”

For a short while life was good. Heinies of mill workers and their families were clean.

Then it hit the fan.

The railroad became aware that they were missing an entire boxcar of toilet paper. The railroad detectives determined that the last known location of said boxcar was in the storage yard outside our paper mill. On further investigation it was determined that the boxcar holding all the toilet paper was pushed to our shipping docks in error.

Theft from the railroad is a federal offense. Word began to spread throughout the plant. People began to sweat and butts began to pucker.

The folks in the front office found out what had happened and got involved.

Miraculously toilet paper began pouring back into the mill. (So I was told.)

But the railroad didn’t want “that” toilet paper back. Most of the cases had been opened. Rolls were missing.

I heard the carpet in front of the mill manager’s desk was well worn as men were called forth.

In the “end” the mill purchased that entire boxcar of toilet paper. Plus, as I understand it , a hefty fine was paid.

When I hired on in 1978 the story of the great toilet paper caper was still a hot topic. I’m not certain if I ever had the pleasure of tugging on one of those stolen rolls or not. They may have all been used by the time I arrived.

And what about that strange sound you may have heard lately as toilet paper is flying off store shelves? It’s probably the sound of old papermaker’s butts puckering as they recall the great toilet paper caper of the 1970s.

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Rick Algood
March 24, 2020