Tim Jamieson learned the practical realities of the Night Knocker job: he functioned like an old-fashioned beat cop without a gun, nightstick, or arrest authority. He checked security lights at larger businesses such as DuPray Mercantile and Oberg’s Drug and tested doors at smaller shops, using the traditional triple knock. When residents occasionally responded, Tim acknowledged them and moved on. He marked doors with chalk on the outbound leg and erased the marks on his return, honoring a longstanding custom.

Through part-time Deputy George Burkett, Tim found a small furnished apartment above the garage of George’s mother. George warned him about late-night noise, but Tim noted he would seldom be home at night due to his shift. The apartment had minimal amenities, including a basic window air conditioner, a comfortable bed, and a simple kitchen, which was sufficient because Tim ate many meals at Bev’s Eatery.

Contrary to George’s “dragon” description, Mrs. Burkett proved kind, speaking with a heavy Southern drawl and sometimes leaving Tim treats like cornbread or cake outside his door. The rent was low at seventy dollars a week, making the arrangement affordable and comfortable enough for Tim’s needs.

Seeking additional income, Tim followed a tip that DuPray Storage & Warehousing was understaffed and hiring continually. He spoke with foreman Val Jarrett and secured three hours of morning work starting at eight, which fit between the end of his night rounds and rest. The pay was minimal and the labor physical, but Tim accepted it as necessary.

By chapter’s end, Tim had established a new routine: nightly patrols following local traditions, sleep in the modest apartment, and short morning shifts loading and unloading at the warehouse. He framed this period as temporary, telling himself it was simply the way of the world “for now.”