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The Mail Carrier,

the Mule, and Gum

“Did you get the letter I mailed you?” Dan, my best friend throughout elementary school, would ask unsuspecting victims.

“No,” came the reply.

Dan then stamped on their foot, laughing: “I must have forgotten to stamp it!”

I bring up this juvenile joke because of a letter I received earlier this week. Actually, it was a letter I mailed last week and was now marked “Returned to Sender” for lack of postage. I absentmindedly forgot to stamp it!

While I did not stamp on my own foot, I did laugh as heartily as Dan ever did.

The U.S. Postal Service has been in the news of late, but not for merry reasons. Which is too bad because when I think of the mail it gives me a smile as I am reminded of my great uncle, Dewitt, whom we called simply “Unc.”

Born in rural Ohio in 1889, Unc began working for the Postal Service at age twenty and continued until age 65. He then enjoyed 31 years of retirement filled largely with fishing and gardening.

A quick gardening story before returning to the mail. While my great-grandfather developed a state award-winning strain of feed corn, Unc earned a smaller measure of local fame for his green thumb.

It happened like this. Instead of using wooden stakes for his garden beans to climb, Unc planted a single sunflower seed inside each circle of planted bean seeds. In theory, he reasoned, the beans would be able to climb the rising sunflower stalk.

In practice, the beans withered and died because the sunflowers hogged the water and fertilizer. Not all was lost, however, for Unc was thereafter renowned for growing “the tallest crop of sunflowers in town.”

Back to the mail. Unc began his postal career working on a train. His duties included tossing heavy canvas mailbags filled with letters and packages for delivery off the moving train at each town.

In his next breath, while still rolling along, he would reach out the window with a hook-ended pole and snatch mailbags containing outgoing mail hanging on posts beside the railroad tracks at each depot.

In time, Unc moved up to having his own carrier route covering some forty miles with about 80 delivery stops. Early on his mail wagon, which had a small stove inside to provide warmth during days of sleet and snow, was pulled by a single mule.

Because his workday began long before morning’s first light with mail sorting, Unc had a habit of dozing off after making the final delivery of the day. Falling asleep at the wheel – rather, reins – proved to be of no danger, however. The mule was so familiar with the mail route it simply delivered Unc home without guidance.

Refreshed from his nap, Unc was free to enjoy the remaining late afternoon – usually fishing. Which brings to mind one more story…

My two older brothers and I – ages nine, seven and four at the time – were fishing with Unc. It was a hot summer day and we asked for a root beer treat.

“Chew some gum, that’ll take your thirst away,” said Unc, who had not brought along sodas.

Nor had we boys brought along any bubblegum.

“Here, chew this,” Unc offered, handing my brothers a piece each while I had fortunately wandered off chasing frogs.

“GAHHH! YUCK! PHEWWW!”

My green-faced siblings spit out their words as well as the foul-tasting “gum” which was actually tiny plugs of chewing tobacco.

“They didn’t complain no more about being thirsty,” Unc laughed to my dad when he delivered us home.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

• Personalized signed copies are at WoodyWoodburn.com