Carrol Vertrees: Postal service delivers on a lifetime of hope

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Carrol Vertrees

Updated: February 10, 2012 8:15AM

I read the other day that when the famous Hope diamond was donated to the Smithsonian, it was mailed from New York to Washington in a brown paper parcel. How’s that for confidence in our postal service?

And when I was a farm kid, Sears and Montgomery Ward trusted our mail carriers to deliver their great catalogs, diamonds themselves to millions. The Sears book was short and fat, and the Wards catalogue was long and thinner, but both had treasures that excited me. We had a big mail box.

Something has happened to America’s postal system. We all have heard the famous saying that neither rain, snow or sleet can make the postmen and postwomen miss a delivery.

Economics, not the weather, is hurting this proud institution, and I am mad enough to say bad words, because it has become a personal thing. I hear that the Vertrees Post Office down there near Hardin, Ky., has been closed. Nobody even notified me.

Fortunately, I have a lifesize photo of me leaning on a big delivery box labeled “U.S. Post Office. Vertrees, KY 42785.” It is the only photo of its kind in existence, and I would not part with it at any price. Well, almost any price.

I do not know the Vertrees clan for which this postal center was named, but I suppose none of them knew about me either.

Next, I fear, I will hear that the little post office in famous little downtown Elnora has been shuttered. Have those officials no shame, no guilt feelings?

About that slogan. What a letdown. It didn’t start with the postal folks, but with a Greek historian named Herodotus about 2,500 years ago in describing the war between the Greeks and Persians, referring to the Persian mounted postal couriers. When the New York City postal center was built in 1896, a guy from the planning firm thought it would be nifty to engrave the saying on the new building.

It reads “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these courageous warriors from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” Actually, though, that adage fits most of the mail carriers we know.

I hear that in some cities years ago, folks often got two deliveries a day.

Some of us are old enough to remember the 3-cent stamp. Stamps cost 45 cents now, and many of us don’t buy many. We use computers and pay our bills online. Some of us don’t even get bills in the mail.

We may not get bills, but we sure do get uninvited mail asking us to help unfortunate people — not a bad cause, but the volume is oppressive, like the incessant phone calls from folks who want us to do good things. We can’t blame our postal folks for that.

When I was a kid, getting mail was exciting. Now, as a post-graduate from the college of kids, I make multiple trips to the mail box in our condo, and when the carriers are late, I worry. I have an insatiable expectancy.

Some of us older folks remember playing a game called “Post Office.” I forget the details of that game, but I remember that if answers worked out right, a guy was entitled to a kiss from a certain girl. I tried to win out so that I could smooch Barbara Taylor, a pretty lass. She wore glasses that made her look really cute.

With her, I tried a special delivery kiss, and I remember that neither rain, nor sleet, nor whistles from the other kids could stay me from my appointed kiss. I wonder how old Herodotus would have described my performance.

Actually, I wonder if Barbara Taylor was as excited as I was. Probably not.