I have a soft spot for the US Postal Service. That’s because my father worked for them for more than 30 years.
That was a long time ago. If he was here he’d be embarrassed at all that has happened since he left.
Look, I understand the sheer volume of work they conduct on a daily basis. And yet when they mess up, it tends to leave you shaking your head saying WTH?
Last week our mail was delivered on one evening, you read correctly, evening, at 6:00. On another evening it came after 7:00.
Because we were out of state over Thanksgiving we put a hold on our mail, informing the Franklin Post Office we’d return last Monday. Our held mail didn’t come until Saturday.
Also in Saturday’s mail was a huge bundle held by a rubber band that wasn’t ours. It was for a family one mile away. Clearly the postal employee had to know it wasn’t ours, but didn’t.
Tonight I drove the mail over to the resident who is not even close to being a neighbor. My thinking was the family might be expecting something important. I could have just put it all in my mailbox with the red flag out, buy why put the large stack back in the hands of the bunglers.
When the man answered the door tonight he told me he wasn’t surprised to see me. He’s been getting lots of his neighbor’s mail lately. He, too, recently put his mail on hold, only to return home to a stuffed mailbox.
Why do I write about this?
I can’t help but think how much busier it’s going to get for postal workers and whether they’ll be up to the task.