Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stay these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds"... We were taught this along with the Marine hymn, Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and other such fables.
There was a time though, before WWII, that it almost came true. Our mailman was called Fred. A big, tall, burly man in his fifties. He would always show up at 3:20 in the afternoon. You could set your watch by his arrival. He was a part of our family and always knew who was dead or dying, was sick, or who won last night's Bingo game. From time to time he'd share a Tootsie Roll with us kids.
He wore his grey uniform proudly, adorned with a big horse hide bag of mail strapped to his shoulder. He was a very happy man.
He would pickup his mail at a post box at the bottom of the hill. No Jeeps for him. He carried his duties on shanks mare. I'm glad to pay him this trbute to one of God's quiet heros.
There was a time though, before WWII, that it almost came true. Our mailman was called Fred. A big, tall, burly man in his fifties. He would always show up at 3:20 in the afternoon. You could set your watch by his arrival. He was a part of our family and always knew who was dead or dying, was sick, or who won last night's Bingo game. From time to time he'd share a Tootsie Roll with us kids.
He wore his grey uniform proudly, adorned with a big horse hide bag of mail strapped to his shoulder. He was a very happy man.
He would pickup his mail at a post box at the bottom of the hill. No Jeeps for him. He carried his duties on shanks mare. I'm glad to pay him this trbute to one of God's quiet heros.
