I recently had a strange experience. Speaking to my college students, I received a room of blank stares when talking of the “Sunday paper.” I was lecturing on Cuba, with the subject being an infamous Page 1 Sunday news story on Fidel Castro in the New York Times in February 1957. The story was notorious for how it had sugarcoated Fidel Castro and resurrected his movement.

Castro is another topic. As for my students, I tried to convey to them how influential the Sunday newspaper was. That fact elicited more curiosity than what I said about the Cuban dictator. I tried to explain the “Sunday paper.” I might as well have been describing a flying saucer.

As many readers here know, once upon a time, the Sunday paper was a staple of American life. My dad usually picked it up on Saturday evening or early Sunday morning, driving to the local Giant Eagle or Foodland. Sometimes, we grabbed the paper after Mass on Sunday. On Sundays, there was usually a line at the express lane of folks nabbing the paper from stacks piled up in front of the registers.

The black-and-white paper was striking for its color on the outside, namely, the comics section, typically led by Charles Schulz’s “Peanuts,” Bil Keane’s “Family Circus” or Bill Watterson’s “Calvin and Hobbes.”

For the record, though “Peanuts” was and remains a classic (especially the Halloween and Christmas TV specials), the comic strip stopped being funny sometime during the Lyndon Johnson administration. Nonetheless, it was a good feeling to see “Peanuts” every Sunday morning. You didn’t miss it.

“Family Circus” was almost always funny — an insightful look into the mirth and madness of everyday family life. As for “Calvin and Hobbes,” what can I say? It was a masterpiece, sheer brilliance. Watterson’s work was ingenious.

The comics section was just the opening of the Sunday paper. I’m curious: Do young people today read “comics” anywhere?

Inside the Sunday paper were inserts of all sorts, from Parade magazine to the indispensable TV Guide. There was the likewise indispensable “Classified” section, crucial to anyone job searching. There was the opinion/commentary section, filled with editorials, op-eds, and local and syndicated columnists. There was the sports section, featuring on-site reporting of local beat reporters plus columnists who offered commentary. I would often cut (with scissors) photos from Pirates and Steelers games. I also remember filling out and mailing in a box/poll that had readers pick winners of football games. You could win a cash prize.

You would take the Sunday paper in hand and pull it apart, with Dad reading one section in his chair, Mom reading another at the kitchen counter and a sibling lying on the living room floor perusing another. All were engaged in the lost art of reading from a hard-copy text.

There’s much more I could say about the Sunday paper, but alas, my column is limited to about 550 words. That itself serves to contrast what a magnificent production the Sunday paper was. It surely comprised 100,000-plus words of text. One marvels at the manpower that went into this weekly effort.

And one marvels, too, at what today’s generation is missing. Their Sunday reading is their phone — text messages, news alerts and “notifications,” and whatever the cursed “algorithm” dishes to confirm their biases.

To be sure, many newspapers still offer a Sunday (or weekend) edition, but sadly, too many young people are unaware of it. It’s their loss.