“They were absolutely thrilled,” he said, and ever since, Pearl doesn’t get embarrassed if he falls.
As the boat neared, he heard the spectators cheering. Pearl climbed the swim ladder and waited on the pier for the captain to circle back. When I tried to jump back onto the tail-end of the stern, I missed.”
I hit the pier and slipped, twisting my knee, which slowed me down. “It was a simpler pier,” he said of one tumble, “but the kids had been swimming so the surface was wet. Pearl has fallen eight times, sometimes in ways he never expected. Even though I made it, the first jump of the day is still always a little nerve-racking.”Įach jumper makes 45 to 60 jumps a day, and any number of obstacles can make the landing and run to the mailbox a challenge. “Let’s just say that the first time I jumped, I was way more worried about the jumping than the mail delivery. Taking the leap in front of 160 people, however, is a bit more intimidating. He never worried much about missing the boat on his jumps he’s a member of the high school swim team. Sid Pearl, a 17-year-old senior from Park Ridge, Illinois, whose antics had the crowd applauding, just completed his second year of jumping. Pearl has fallen in the lake eight times in two years. The six jumpers selected each year are preserving the town’s history, but most are teens just seeking, as they call it, “a really cool summer job.” Sid Pearl jumps safely back to the boat-but that’s not always what happens. To be a mail jumper-in 1921 or 2021-requires athleticism, agility, personality, and communication skills. It has continued uninterrupted, May through September, for the last 105 years. The town is the first and only one in the United States where jumpers deliver mail from a passenger-carrying mailboat, a tradition that began in 1916 when the primitive roads were too difficult to traverse. mail to the waterfront residents of Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. The crowd cheers and the teen smiles and returns to the front, preparing for the next jump as the Walworth II delivers the U.S. The teenager rises and leaps from the window, right foot landing on the dock, then it’s a mad dash to the mailbox, a pivot, and another leap, left foot landing on the runner of the moving boat. The double-decker boat-large enough to seat 160 passengers-slows as it navigates toward the pier, but it never stops. Dressed in a casual uniform of blue shorts and a red polo shirt, he is poised and athletic, his hand gripping a newspaper with mail nestled inside. The teenager straddles the window’s edge, calculating the distance to the dock.