Don, the postman, died this week. The weapon was not a gun, but cancer.
Don was my uncle.
At the wake, from the moment the doors were open, until the wake ended, five hours later, there was a constant line through the chapel, winding down the hall, to the doors outside. From friends and family, to co-workers, and even uncountable throngs of people on his route, the crowds came.
Hundreds and hundreds of people came to pay respects to this “simple” postman.
How does a “simple” postman garner such love and respect?
Don was not a hero.
Don did not have millions of dollars he gave away.
Don was not a celebrity.
Don did not have friends in high places.
Don was an ordinary man who cared for people.
He loved his family. He loved The Beatles. He loved classic muscle cars.
He had the ability to make you laugh within 1 minute of meeting him. You loved him after talking to him for an hour.
Don was a man who believed everyone could be a friend. Everyone needed to be touched inside by someone who cared.
At the wake, I overheard someone say that if anyone met Donald and didn’t like him, then something was wrong.
Don was faithful.
He loved his wife. He loved his daughter. He never faltered.
Day after day he delivered his mail. He talked with folks.
Can one man doing ordinary things make an impact?
As the hearse carried Don’s body to the church, dozens and dozens of US Postal vehicles lined the street, with postal carriers standing with their hands over their hearts in a silent tribute.
The postal vehicles then followed the crowds to the church. Hundreds showed up there as well. As the coffin was carried up the steps, a shout from the postal carriers rang out, “We love you, Don!”
This act gave me a new image of the post office. If these “common” delivery people would come out with love and respect in this manner and serve as an example of everyone that loved him … then “Going Postal,” has a whole new meaning for me.
My uncle Don was not a “blood” uncle, but was my wife’s uncle. However, from the first day I met him, I loved him. He became “my” uncle, too.
Are the people you touch every day made better for having known you?
After seeing and hearing what an impact my uncle Don had on people, and not just his coworkers, but the people from the homes he visited daily, to the people that shared their mutual admiration for cars, to the people he met at the grocery store, I know now, everyone makes a difference. Everyone should “Go Postal.”
Donald E. Schlosser
1950 - 2009
