Garth's Arm around Herman, a rare scene

Left to right:  Garth Cain, Herman Wrigley, Herman's wife Marilyn , and I think either the station manager or acting Marietta Postmaster.  This picture is inside the Sprayberry Post Office ten years or so ago to say thanks to Herman for his devotion to the Postal Service.  He had just retired.

Ironically Garth Cain, the ex-postmaster has his hand on Herman, like he is petting him.  Garth died a several years ago.  

Herman and Garth had a love-hate relationship, sort of.

I remember one time Garth gave Herman some good advice, paraphrased:  "Only be concerned with what you can control, it is bad for your health to worry about things you can't change."

Larry Schuler, Local Movie/TV actor and Mail Carrier

Larry Schuler at Mayes Ward Funeral Home 2015 visiting.  Larry was a mail carrier for the Marietta Post Office.  I think he is retired now.

Larry was in some movies and TV programs.  He was the hotel clerk in MY COUSIN VINNY and also a hotel clerk in MISSISSIPPI BURNING.  He was in some other movies as well as playing a deputy often in TV's IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT.

Caught!

Herman, an ex-co-worker, called me.  He told me Bobby Cook died.

And while on the phone we asked each other about different people's destinies that we haven't heard from lately.

I asked is "Junebug" still in the post office.  Herman said no.

Then one of us made a coughing/clearing throat sound which embedded in the sounds was a sentence.   We both cracked up laughing.

The sentence first made a quick brag about the size of his male body part and the second part of the sentence asked "do you want to suck it?"  All hardly understandable because of false coughing/clearing throat spell covered up the words... almost.

Junebug was working at the station next to me on the window.  After a lady conducted her business with Junebug, he had the coughing spell mentioned above and said the two-part sentence.

Her eyes widened.

She said, "What did you say?"

Junebug said "Nothing, I was just coughing."  And glanced over to me.

She turned her head my way also.

I was pretending to be shuffling through some paperwork  and not noticing what was going on around me.  Apparently, I was invisible again, I think the lady determined I was in another world.

What is strange is  that normally Junebug mumbles anyway, and you are always having to say "Pardon me?" or "Huh?" or "What?".  This time he came through loud and clear, even if the words were embedded in a cough.

Now, Junebug's face was red.

The woman was staring him down.

She asked to see his manager.

The manager came and asked her to step into her office and talk it over.

Junebug got away with it.  In the office the lady reasoned that it was just her word against his, and of course there were no witnesses.  (ahem!) 

But she said she was going to keep her eye on him and tell her friends who come to window to do the same.

John Neese

John Neese.  As Forrest Gump said, "Life is like a box of chocolates...."   So is eating at Johnboy's All-You-Can-Eat Country Cooking Buffet. I am not saying their food is a metaphor for chocolates but the people that come there.

I never know who I'll see when I walk into John Boy's.  On this day, over a year ago was ex-coworker John Neese.  John retired about the same time I did from the Postal Service.  He is the baby brother of Jack and Jerry Neese.  I went to high school with the oldest two.  I did not know John existed until I met him at work.

Postal Elevator Saga Continues

Elevator Saga continues.

One morning I was waiting on the elevator, not in the basement but on the first floor, and the Postmaster and one of his right hand "yes" men walked in from outside.   The Postmaster just glanced at me and the right hand man shook my hand and patted me on the back.  They stood waiting on the elevator with me. 

A few seconds later a handful of employees came in from the outside and past us horridly to get back to work.  The Postmaster looked mortified.  He told his right hand man they shouldn't have been allowed outside the building.

The right hand man, I will call him B, smiled and said, they were either on break  or lunch and they can go where they want on their own time.

I  appreciated B for standing up to our boss and not necessary being the "yes" right hand man.  He politely and smilingly  told the Postmaster he was wrong.  I have had dealings with B ever since he transferred in.  He was young, short, smooth talking and nice.  He treated everybody with respect and looked you in the eyes when he talked to you and smiled when he spoke, every time.

We rode up the elevator.  I got off on 2M and they were talking about business.  I thought I would be ignored when I stepped off  but B spoke to me by name, telling me "Not to work too hard."... which is a bad statement for upper management to say to a clerk.  He said it in front of the Postmaster. 

B.  got promoted to the postmaster of Kennesaw, Georgia.   Good for him.

By the Elevator Part 2: Veteran's Funeral

Yesterday I talked about a guy I named Goofy that I got to talk to sometimes while waiting on the elevator in the Post Office at the Federal Annex Building in Atlanta.

Also while waiting on the elevator I got to know the whole crew of parcel throwing and their supervisor.

Their supervisor was a short little man beyond retirement age who did not mix with his workers very much, or at least I didn't see him talking to his employees.  I think his last name was something like Crumbley.

Crumbley had a 30 minute radio show on Saturday Mornings at 11:00.  It was all public service announcements and items of interest for the American Legion Post he belonged to.  I listened to it a couple of times - it was very straight forward, no carrying on or joking.

Under the types of paid administrative leave is Funeral for Veterans.   I think Veteran's Funeral Leave in intended for high ranking veterans for other high ranking people to attend.  As a timekeeper for over a dozen years I have only seen it used one day.

And that time was all the clerks that worked throwing parcels for Mr. Crumbley.   One of their co-workers died, who was a veteran, so he let everybody take off four hours on Veterans Funeral Leave the day of the late co-workers' funeral.

The Atlanta Post Office did not not work like that.  24x7 the incoming mail, including parcels must be worked or they would pile up overwhelming uncontrollable.

After it was taken and upper Postal Management found out about it, it I heard from the Director of Operations secretary "they were so pissed off they could shit a brick."

PS:  I wonder if Goofy took pictures?

Problem on Aisle 3

Another recycled Post:  Stop me if you have already read this.




Back when our sons were young a carrier by the name of Kenny at work was telling me about 100 acres of land he and his girlfriend jointly bought in Dawsonville. He said it had a creek running through the property and he rigged up a mining table, that pumped water up on a table, and somehow you shift the creek sand from the bottom and the gold remains, and so far he has found several tiny little gold nuggets.

He suggested that I bring Anna and the boys up and he would demonstrate it for them and they could mind for gold. Which we did and they found some little bitty gold pieces. The pieces found you can put it in a container of water and it quickly sinks to the bottom and hits with a “clunk” sound.

So, we mined for gold and also had a picnic. We built a fire in a rock pit Kenny made and had hotdogs and chips.

Ken’s girlfriend was maybe ten to fifteen years older than he and her face was very painted up with rouge and lipstick to hide the wrinkles. With all that batter on her face, she sort of prissed around like she was one hot mama.

They never consummated their relationship, probably because he was the shy type along with her “holier than Thou” attitude. She started dating somebody else in their church and talked Kenny is selling her his share of the property.

When we went up there to meet them to mine for gold we met them at a pre-selected place, the convenience store mentioned above.

When we drove into the parking lot they were waiting. Ken said how would we like to have a picnic, cook hot dogs on a fire and we said that sounded great.

So Ken and I went into the store to buy what we needed for the cookout. We bought wieners, buns, potato chips, and Cokes. Ken walked up to the counter and asked the lady behind the counter where was the condiments. She said on aisle 3. Kenny and I walked over to aisle 3 and their was no catsup or mustard.

We walked back to the cashier and asked again for the condiments. She said aisle 3. This time we made sure, we looked on both sides carefully, and nope… no catsup and mustard.

We went back to the cashier and told her we looked carefully and there was no condiments on aisle 3.

She said, “Yes, they are there.” And she walked out from behind the counter and we followed her to aisle 3 and she pointed to the different brands of condoms and said, “There are your condiments!”

I broke out laughing. Kenny looked embarrassed. He said something to the effect, “No No, we mean catsup, mustard, things like that!”

Her face got very red and she realized her mistake. She showed us the correct aisle. When we added up our purchases she was laughing and embarrassed, her face was very red.

I suppose she thought we had a couple of hot chicks out in the car raring to go.

Kenny said that he kept stopping by that store and from time to time and each time the cashier would laugh with him over that incident.

There Are More Ways Than One to Skin a Delivery

Amazon and some other companies that sell on on-line will not accept a PO Box as an address.  That has been a problem with us for some time because we don't have a mailbox.  

Our neighbor knocked down our mailbox four or five times so we decided it was not worth the hassle and got a PO Box instead.  The neighbor is dead now, but that is another story.

Amazon will not accept a PO Box as an address because they use UPS.   What they did not take into account sometimes UPS hands off to the USPS and visa-versa,   At times when they do the hand off we are back with the same problem.

I complained to someone on the phone at Amazon several times and the people I talked to are very understanding.  But,  always, the bottom line was Rules are rules.

I ran into an old acquaintance at a funeral  home's visitation the other night.  She is in postal management now.  I told her of my dilemma.

She told me it is a common practice for post office box holders address their address as the street number of the post office and your PO Box number above that, as an apartment or suite number.

Problem solved!

Walla!

Postal is Postal

Willow takes a pill every morning for her liver.   Vet's orders.   We shopped around and found the cheapest place on line to order.  We order a 60 day supply at a time.   

Up until now, each time we have ordered we would receive the pills in only  two or three days.  This time after waiting over a week we got out our confirmation  and the tracking number and did some tracking.  The tracking information plainly stated that the Postal Service delivered the package to us on May 9th.

No, they did not!

When we read that it was May the 15th, one day short of a week later than they told us it was delivered.

The next day I took the tracking information to our Post Office and they had no explanation but did quickly looked all around the Post Office for every place it could be.  They didn't find it.  They told me they would put Ray on it to investigate.   Five days later we haven't heard a word for the Post al Service  but  also today, we received the package with no explanation.   the tracking number matches up with what we were looking for.

tch tch. 

Pink Dogwoods on West Paces Rd, Atlanta

Above is a postcard of a driveway leading off West Paces Road in Atlanta.

Interesting, this driveway is just down the street a few blocks from the Governor's Mansion.  Also, it is almost across the street from the front yard of what was supposed to be the Butler's estate in GONE WITH THE WIND, but the yard itself is not there now, in its place is a subdivision.    

I knew then  a worker at the Atlanta Post Office that lived within a house of two of this picture.  It was a house his wife inherited.  He threw packages all night long with an apron on.  But his neighbors did not know that, he left for work every evening wearing a suit and carrying an  briefcase with his lunch in it.

One time while throwing packages  he heard one that was ticking or hissing.   He hollered over to his supervisor and told him and they evacuated the building.   It was his moment:  He grabbed the package and ran out of the building, in case it exploded.  I don't know if the evacuees ran back in to get away from the bomb or not.  The bomb squad came and took over .  He was a hero.  He got a promotion to supervisor.

Below is a picture I took unknowing  the existence of the above post card at the time.  I thought through the years they might have been the same driveway but now I don't think so.  The slope of the driveways looks differently.

Jerry, Jerry, and Jerry

A recent Saturday Night Live had a skit with Jonah Hill about a person with a split personality.  It reminded me of a worker in the Atlanta Post Office, Jerry.

Jerry was an LSM (letter sorting machine) operator.  He sat at a machine and keyed destinations  as letter addresses was quickly placed in front of him.  Then a LSM operator had to do several a second for a couple hours at a time.  Jerry was a whiz.  He was the fastest person on the machines.  He had so much nervous energy at breaks and lunch he walked around and clapped his hands.

Jerry also probably had enough college degrees he could cover his apartment walls.  Jerry was single.  He had no idea how to  or the desire to communicate with humans.

Jerry also had at least three completely different personalities in his head.   The trouble is they were all dominant personalities.    Sometimes while Jerry was working his three personifies would have arguments and have a screaming fit at one another.  I remember his supervisor told me several times people have demanded to not work close to him - and a few  were just plain scared of him when his personalities started pitching fits.

I remember one time I was walking by and his supervisor motioned me over and suggested I casually walk by Jerry.  I did.  Two of Jerry's personalities were have a screaming argument at each other, each pointing out the other's faults, and the third personality singing loudly, I think the singing personality was trying to drown out the sound of the other two arguing; it was embarrassed for the two.   A girl working near was looking at him horrified.

One time his supervisor told me he didn't mind if people moved away from him or go home upset because he did the work of four people anyway.

Jerry hardly ever took time off he had more leave than he should have so they made him take off. 

He was gone either one or two weeks, I forgot how long.  I ran his annual leave in the system every day.  When he came back I asked him did he have a nice time off.   Without smiling he nodded.  I asked him where did he go and he said either Savannah or Myrtle Beach,  and it just so happened he was there  at whichever place it was during a huge hurricane, the whole city was evacuated.  I asked him about the  hurricane and he didn't know a thing about it.  It was news to him.  He stayed in his room the whole time.  He said the lights went out for a day or two but he didn't think anything about it. 

Captain LM!

Today at the Post Office I ran into one of my ex-coworkers for the Postal Service.  He is also retired but is trying to get back on.  I'll call him LM.

LM is an officer in the Army Reserves.  He was in a special service unit that was trained to kill.  He was one of the leaders who captured Manuel Noriega (Panama Canal)  in 1989 and brought him to justice. 

At work every time he did something eccentric  or just plain nutty we would comment, "And he is also a trained killer!"

One time for a short time he was a window clerk.  The window clerks sometimes brought goodies in, they baked or bought goodies and kept them out of sight to munch on.  One time a Window Clerk named Jackie brought Duncan Donuts in, all different flavors.  They had the box hidden in a room away from public view and the clerks were to slip back and have one and return to window.  That was the plan.  LM was first to go back.  After he got back and gave a nod the next person went back - and hit the roof.  A bite was out of  each donut.  They asked LM did he do that and he happily said yes, they all looked so good he had to taste each one.  No matter what they angrily said, LM just laughed, like they were kidding him.

I remember one time in the break room we were, well, taking a break.  LM was one of us at the sitting at the tables talking.  There was a vending machine man in the room either loading or repairing a vending machine. 

When LM spoke apparently the vending machine recognized his voice.  He snapped to attention and told LM how glad he was "to see you again SIR!"

LM and the vending machine man talked of old times and the different killing machines they were trained on.   I could tell the vending machine  man really looked up and respected his officer, LM.

Then LM's supervisor came in and  ruefully told him to get back to work.

I bet that was a downer for both of them. 

$147.73?

I heard on the news that there are still cars that were removed from the highways that haven't been claimed .  The officials said they have until a certain day (Monday I think)  by a certain time to claim their cars, otherwise they will have to pay a per day impound fee.

Car impounded?  My heart rate just went up a couple of points at the thought of that.  It reminds me of the  time I was a time keeper for the Postal Service at the Federal Annex in Atlanta.  The timekeeping tour I was on was due on at midnight.  There were at two authorized lots we could park free, maybe three.  The two authorized places I knew were at least a half mile away; one down Spring Street and down Mitchell Street.  Both were in dangerous  mugging territories then.   More than a few postal employees were  mugged back then.  I was mugged twice (another story).  We finally reasoned out that because we reported at midnight and got off at 8:30am we could park on a  nearby street    Which we did.

One morning  at about 8:40am, my co-worker, Alice Allen, and I  discovered our cars were not  on the side of the street where we left them.  Another co-worker, Chuck Watson, rode by in his car (he parked in an authorized parking lot) and saw us standing on the sidewalk looking dumbfounded.  He figured what  happened.

Chuck pulled over and we got in his car and had a brain storming session.   We figured our cars were impounded.  I forgot how we knew but we went to the City of Atlanta's impound cars were at.   We found out that our cars were there.  The man behind the desk, in his work coveralls told us we would have to go to the police department  on Decatur Street and pay our fines then bring proof we paid our fans and he would release our cars, after we paid an impoundment and storage fee.  He told us we had to do this by today or the storage fee would increase for another day.  We asked how much and he figured it up on his adding machine that had a  long crank looking  handle on it.  I remember he put all the figures in and pulled the handle down  and said that we each owed $147.73.

Alice Allen said, "ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-SEVEN MOTHER FUCKING DOLLARS?"

The coveralled man with the adding machine did not change his calm expression said, "and seventy-three cents."

Later,  Chuck telling people about it told about the Alice slinging the F word and the guy not  batting an eye.  Actually, I would be more surprised if Alice held her tongue and refrained framed from shouting the F-word.

I also think the guy was used to that kind of outrage and took it  in stride. It is a shame it was before video recording  became popular and affordable.    The guy could have a hidden video nearby and I'm sure there is a demand for those kind of reactions, look at AMERICAN'S FUNNYEST VIDEOS.

I  wonder how odd cents were figured in? 

We didn't have that kind of money in our pockets.  Thank the  Lord for Credit Cards, and ATMs which were just then becoming popular.   Chuck was kind enough to drive us to an ATM and back to the impound lot.

Alice did not have a credit card or an ATM card.   Chuck and I both jointly paid her expenses which she paid us in increments until she got it paid off.

Alice and Chuck are dead now.

Going Postal With Mr. Rice - Recycled

While going reviewing my old posts on chicken-fat.com I came across the below post of July 2009.  I thought I would recycle it and get some more mileage out of it.

When I started to work for the Atlanta Post Office in 1968 I worked through the night at the Parcel Post Annex off of Chattahoochee Blvd.

We had two supervisors. One of the supervisors’ last name was Rice and the other one was Beckum…. Or it may have been Beckom – who cares?

Rice was about ready to retire. He was short and had his gray hair cut in a flat top. Later I found out he had a drinking problem.

One morning about 4:30 or 5:00 he called all us to gather around him, which we did. He was sitting on a little stool. He told us he just received a call from the Main Post office that the head of operations was coming to pay us a “surprise” visit. He used his fingers to use to quote the “surprise”.

As he talked he took off one of his shoes and then his sock for that shoe and began rubbing his fingers between his toes.

He explained they were on their way now and they wanted to catch us being lax so they could go ahead a get rid of him. He said that he thought they wanted to catch him in one of the back rooms asleep and the people under him just goofing off.

He put his shoe and sock back on and took his other shoe and sock off and continued his talk and rubbing his other toes. He said, lets show them that we are hard workers… I forgot what he said but it was pep talk to get us energized.

He said life is short and we had to seize the moment.

It was about a 15 minute drive from the Main Post Office to the Parcel Post Annex where we were at.

The operation manager and his entourage walked in. Rice walked up to the operations manager and shook his hand and told him that his visit was a pleasant surprise. Then he shook the hands of the other men who came along.

Each time Rice shook a hand you could hear someone make a stuffed chuckle or a muffled giggle grunt.

Then I knew Mr. Rice was a jewel of a boss.

Memories Again

We were coming home from dinner the other night and as we past a little shopping center I was studying the names of the stores.  We were looking for a live music venue we read about some time ago.  We are not sure if we saw it or not, but we did see a dog grooming shop I heard about  almost 30 years ago.  It still had the same name.

About 1983 or 84 I transferred to the Marietta Post Office.  One of the first people I got to know was a guy named Robert.  Robert had a full gray beard and liked to dress western.    He always wore cowboy boots and western shirts. His co-workers called him "Cowboy".  I wondered why.

Robert, aka Cowboy, told me he had just won a dog grooming business in a poker game.  And told me what shopping center it was in.  He said he was going to let it run itself, the same groomer would stay there, he didn't know a thing about dog grooming and did not want to know.

The grooming  business also reminded me of a romance he had with a young lady who came to work at the Marietta Post Office the same time I did.  The lady was married.  I met her husband at a party one time and found him very timid, out of place,  and shy.  She told her mother of her problems with her husband and she suggested to her daughter she find her a part time lover.  One night, her mother came to our work area and the daughter introduced her mother to her potential lover.  Her mother met him and approved of him.   It was no secret, the young lady was never lost for words for what to talk about.

We worked at Station A Post Office on Gresham Road.   Just down the road at the corner of Roswell Road was a Hardee's Restaurant.   We worked through the night and at 7am we took our lunch break and all went to Hardee's most mornings. 

I always somehow miss serious action.  I was not at Hardee's one morning, for what reason I forgot.  About 7:15am one morning at Hardee Robert and his girlfriend were sitting in Hardees eating their breakfasts and about that time Robert looked up and saw a gun aimed right at his face.  He finally got to meet his girlfriend's husband face to face.  The gun fired.

Robert ducked and the bullet hit the lady friend in the cheek.  It went in one side and exited the other side.  The husband went to prison over that incident and she and Robert married, built a very nice house near Cartersville, Georgia, and the last time I talked to her she said they were very happy. 

Of course, unfortunately,  the story did not end happy for every one.

HAPPY LABOR DAY!

Should Workers get Bonuses for Doing their Job?

Why not?  CEOs do.

In the news lately there has  been some talk about  a local municipality  giving bonuses  to workers with good attendance.  It is a  method to decrease absenteeism and tardiness.     It is a ploy to get people to do what they are suppose to do anyway.

It reminded me of my working days at the Atlanta Post Office.  My reporting time was midnight.  I always allowed myself a leeway in case of  wreck or some other mishap.

Also in our office was a lady named Alice Allen.  Alice was always about ten to fifteen minutes late and called in sick a lot.  She was even late when she called in sick.  According to a formula it was time for her to be suspended for bad attendance.    There are steps before somebody is  suspended.  First  a verbal talking to, next a warning letter, then a ten day suspension,  then a two week suspension, then 30 days, then out the door.

The supervisor liked Alice and didn't want to go through all that with her.  He, she, and I met.  She said she just had a lot of running around to do in the day time and when she finally got to bed she would oversleep.  The boss said that since I am there anyway, about 30 minutes before my reporting time would I, as soon as I walked in call Alice and wake her up.  She did not live that far away.  Alice was a good friend so I was willing to help her, so I said "sure".

I started my off the clock duty as soon as I got in to the office I called and woke her up each night  .  I got creative and would tell her a joke or a bit of gossip.  And her attendance improved, not perfectly, but it did improve.

Then one night our boss called a meeting.  He got us all in the same room and he  presented Alice Allen with incentive award of $250 for the best improved attendance.

Later that night I asked our boss how come I didn't get an award, my attendance was perfect.  He laughed and said the award was for "improved attendance" and I had not improved my attendance, how could I?  It was perfect already.

Grrrrrrrrr.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY POSTAL!!!

On this date, March 11, 1789, the United States Post Office was established.  Benjamin Franklin was on the payroll for a while at the beginning.  And 200 years later I hopped on the payroll and lingered for 33 years, then I hopped off, handing my torch to someone else to carry it on.

 

I think linger is generally the word thought of when the public thinks of a postal employee.  There are  also other words such as hanging out,  loitering, and more descriptive words.  Seriously, those are words used by the general public who has never worked at the Postal Service and don't know anybody who has.

 

When I started my job at the Atlanta Post Office I was to unload trucks and railway cars twelve hours a day, 6 or 7 days a week, and forget  being off on holidays.  Only the postal employees who met the public got off.

 

Now, some Republicans want to sell the Postal Service to private enterprise who is eager to turn it into a profit making enterprise.  I wonder if those same people ever thought of selling another public service, the Armed Forces?   Wait!  I just remembered,  it appears they have outsourced  some of the gun shooting to Blackwater.

 

You get most of your mail within a day or two.  You would be surprised just how efficient the Postal Service is, considering the billions of pieces of mail they handle hourly, around the clock.

 

Hug a Postal employee today!

 

Happy 224th Birthday Postal!

Mr Kim

Above: Adam Hunter, Mr. Kim's son, and ?

Peachtree Junior Road Race

Most of the below you may have read in my Facebook ramblings.

Being a Christmas morning tradition, sort of, I went out this morning to McDonald’s to get breakfast sandwiches. I rode up to a dark McDonald’s. It was closed. How can that be? I thought to myself, just two weeks ago they changed to being opened 24 hours a day. Well, I accepted that, it is what it is, and almost next door is a Duncan Donut so I went there instead and ordered their egg-white breakfast sandwiches, which was what I was going to order at McDonald’s anyway. I got my order and was about to walk out and found myself holding the door open for a big family of Koreans. As the last one walked through I said, “Mr. Kim!” Mr. Kim is a postal carrier I used to work with. He was surprised and glad to see me. We haven’t seen each other in one week less than 13 years. He introduced me to his family members and he asked how my son was. I immediately remembered which son he was asking about. His son, my son Adam, he, and I used to run together in downtown Marietta training them for the Peachtree Junior Race in Piedmont Park. I told him Adam is going great, just working too much. He told me his son is now a pastor at a church in Atlanta. I was somewhat amazed that little scrawny kid now leads a congregation. Wow! Time moves on.


It also made me think of a time Mr. Kim put a whole egg in the microwave and when he opened it it exploded in his face and he was rushed to the hospital. He told me the next time he saw me he was more hurt by all the people that busted out in surprised laughter than the physical pain.

The above was my facebook entry.   Now, a little bit more, after I thought more about Mr. Kim:   When the Olympics were in Atlanta Mr. Kim volunteered to be an Olylmpic Messager.  Being bilingual his skill came in handy dealing with the different languages running around delivering messages.   Also, another Korean, came to the post office I worked at and went to a local church's services for Koreans.  She told me the people were not very opened or friendly to her.  Mr. Kim invitied her to his church and she loved it.  They welcomed her with opened arms.   That lady has been on my blog twice before.  After five or six years she resigned about the same time I retired and went into the restaurant business and became very successful.

One of my Muggings

I worked for the Postal Service as a time keeper/Data Collection Technician for about a dozen years.  I worked at the Federal Annex in Atlanta, across the street from Rich's.  And on the other side of the street, down a block was the Southern Railway building (above).

For years my reporting time was midnight.  The official place us postal employees were to park was about a block behind the Southern Railway building next door to an old fire station.  A street from the fire station led over a long railroad bridge and came out on Spring Street.  The street went between the two Southern Railroad buildings.  The two buildings were jointed up a couple levels by an multi level office bridge making it one big building.

One night it was drizzling rain and I was walking across the bridge about 11:30 when a man coming in the opposite direction crossed over the street to the same sidewalk I was on.  We were approaching each other face to face and I noticed something not quiet right about the guy.  He seemed nervous and staggering.  When we got even he smiled and asked me if I had a cigarette.  I said yes, and took out my pack of Winstons and hit the bottom so a cigarette would pop up so the man could take one. 

He reach out but didn't take the cigarette but grabbed my arm.  He told me he wanted my raincoat.  I told him he couldn't have it.  He grabbed around my body to take it anyway and we got into a scuffle.  I flung him and he lost his balance and tripped on the curve and fell down.  He didn't get up but was moaning.

I started to run.  I have always been a one-track mind kind of person - once I start to do something I focus on that task.  While running away from the fallen man I realized I did not complete what I sat out to do.

I U-turned myself and ran back to him and threw him my pack of Winstons and said, "Here!  Take the whole pack!"  And then ran all the way to the Federal Annex.