Several times during my teen years and in my early adult years I was employed by the U.S. Postal Service at the Napa Post Office. I was a mailman.

During World War II, the post office, like most other businesses, lost its young people to the military and the war effort. To fill the need, the local post office hired men who had other jobs. My stepfather, for example, worked swing shift at Basalt shipyard and then worked at the post office in the mornings delivering parcel post. During personnel shortages, they also occasionally hired teenagers — like me.

I first worked at the Post Office as a 15-year-old in 1945 during the final days of the war. At that time, the only post office was the one on Second Street in downtown Napa. For mobility, the office had only one motor vehicle, a panel truck that was used to deliver parcel post and collect mail from the mail boxes around town. Plus, it had about eight bicycles (painted olive drab).

The city mail carriers either walked and carried a leather shoulder bag or rode a bicycle with a bag rack above the front wheel. Besides the city carriers, there were a few rural carriers that delivered mail by car to those citizens that lived outside the city.

I worked with some wonderful, dedicated people at the Post Office who treated this 15-year-old as an equal and with respect. Among those I can remember were Pop Mugford, Leo Gracy, Jim Connelly, Mr. Curtis, Mike Gonsolin, Harold Dillon, Merle Thompson and Neal Haeckl, who were all carriers or delivered parcel post. Persons in charge in the office were Hubert Scott, Craig Friel, Ernest Kincaid and George Provine, the postmaster.

It was summer 1945, and on my first day of work I reported to Mr. Hubert Scott, the carrier supervisor. He showed me how to punch the clock and then introduced me to Jim Connelly, the regular carrier that I was to assist. Jim handed me a leather shoulder bag full of mail and said something like, “OK, go deliver this and come back when the mail is all gone.” I didn’t have a clue what was in the bag or where to start.

I walked out of the post office and noticed that the bundles of letters were numbered so I looked at the top letter of bundle number 1 and it was for a business on First Street. So I walked to that business, entered and handed the letter to a person inside. I exited the business and looked at the second letter and saw that it was for the same business. So I went back inside and delivered that letter. I then figured out that some stops would have more than one letter and that I had better check for multiple letters at each stop.

I then noticed that the letters did not go from business to business down one side of the street but often made you cross the street for a delivery. I thought that was weird so I started digging in the pile and pulling out letters that would take me down one side of the street. Later, I discovered that the letters were put in logical sequence and frequently that sequence would require you to cross the street. The secret was to follow the letters the way they were sequenced.  

After I got done with the letters, I noticed that standing up in the bag were magazines, newspapers and some small packages. They were filed in the same sequence as the letters. I then deduced that, while delivering letters to a customer, I should also check the periodicals to see if there were any for that addressee.

Needless to say, I was all over town and what should have taken less than an hour took at least two hours. But, when it was over, I had gotten the hang of how to deliver mail.

That summer, I worked almost exclusively with Jim Connelly on his route, which was designated as route “City 3”. The part of the route I normally carried covered the area south of Third Street to the south end of town — which was about Sycamore Street — and from the river to Fuller Park. It was a lot of houses but it was fun. By the end of the summer, when I had to start the 10th grade at Napa Union High School, I could recite the addresses of every house on the route in order and the names of most of the occupants. To this day, I can still remember a lot of the addresses and the occupants of long ago.

For me, those were good days. I made a little money, made some great friends, had some interesting experiences and learned the technique of delivering mail.

Thanks to my friend Charlie Harper, Napa’s long-time postmaster, for helping me with some of the names above.

(Jim Ford’s Napa As It Was appears every other Monday, alternating with Betty Rhodes’ Senior Corner.)