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02/13/2019 11:01 PMYou know how the rest of it goes. As a young man, I once delivered mail in the town of Branford as a temporary employee. This meant that I would fill in for whoever was out that day and would learn different delivery routes. It was an adventure to say the least. During the pleasant weather, it was a nice gig—walking through neighborhoods, getting to know the people on your route, and enjoying the sunshine and some good exercise. Winter was another story however, as I had to keep my fingers free to sort through mail and make sure I delivered to the right address. (We all know how annoying it is to find someone else’s letter in our mailbox.) For me, at least, those gloves with the openings for your fingers didn’t seem to work very well.
One thing I can verify is that dogs do come after mail carriers for some reason, showing their teeth and protecting their property. Especially frightening were the times when you would calmly walk up to deliver to a mailbox that was attached to a house or a landing. After routinely placing the mail in the box, a canine would sometimes jump at a door or window, and I, in turn, would just about jump out of my skin! Thankfully, we were allowed to carry a small canister of mace to ward off any aggressive pets. I never used mine, but looking back, with things happening so quickly, I wonder if I would have had the ability or presence of mind to grab the mace before a dog might sink its teeth into my leg.
I could handle the cold, I could handle the dogs, but for me, there was nothing worse than delivering to condominiums. During the ’70s and ’80s, there was an onslaught of condo construction in town and you could have just as easily stuck me in the middle of a corn maze. Clusters of mailboxes that were often not marked well were often placed in hidden locations, often making my task exasperating. When I finally returned to the main office, I might be asked why I was so late in getting back. After explaining that I was covering a route with mostly condos, I would often hear the laughs from my fellow carriers!
I have one memory in particular that still makes me laugh out loud. As you might remember, the main post office was once at the corner of Main and Montowese in the center of town and there were mailboxes out front to drop letters in. Those boxes would sometimes be your last stop before heading back to drop off the mail you had collected from the various boxes around town. One carrier, whom I had gotten to know, was emptying out one of the boxes and had his truck parked right there in front of him along the curb. He also had the box key tethered to his belt loop, which was common practice, so as not to lose the key. I drove slowly past in my truck and with my window rolled down, called out a casual “Hey Don.” In that flash, poor Don saw my truck moving slowly past and mistakenly thought it was his own vehicle rolling down the hill unmanned. I remember seeing him bolting toward the truck with the metal key chain flying apart and the key remaining in the box. Like I said, it was an adventure.
What I still have as a memory of that job is a general knowledge of where many of the streets in Branford are, which often comes in handy when someone asks me where a certain street is, but if they ask me anything about condos, I just laugh and walk away.
Mike Russo is a Branford native and would love to hear reader ideas for future articles. He can be reached at totoket42@gmail.com.