Each day, as I delivered his mail, Mr. Larson was always sitting in the breakfast nook, reading the Oregonian. I would wave to him as I left, and, through the picture window, he would flash an effusive smile and a hearty wave in return. We never spoke, as he was anchored to an oxygen tank via tubes, and couldn’t come to the door. He had a wonderful view of the Willamette River, which was fitting as the business he founded, Larson’s Marina & Moorage is a few miles up river, just beyond Linnton, facing the Southern tip of Sauvie Island. If I was delivering whenever Mel Harris drove by, heading no doubt, to check on The Portway, the bar he owns on Willamette Blvd, just before the water tower, I noticed that Mel always honked his car horn, two short blasts, and glanced up at the window where sat Mr Larson, who heartily waved back.
What I found especially enduring was, even after Mr Larson finally succumbed to his illness and passed on, Mel continued to honk his horn and glance up at the now empty window. And that tribute continued for some months as a way to honor the memory of his friend. I found that a right neighborly thing to do. Within a week of Mr Larson’s passing, a baby was born on Amherst, just around the corner, and life continues apace here on the bluff.
This is a neighborhood, and not just streets lined with rows of houses with people secluding their separate lives within them. This is a community of homes created by people whose lives are intertwined with their neighbors, crossing the street to chat when their neighbor is sighted out weeding the flower bed or raking leaves, catching up on the what-cha-been-up-to’s. Young mothers sharing the task of minding the children so another can scoot off to Freddies to get the grocercies. Block parties on July 4th with BBQ and talent shows, sitting on the lawn eating while clusters of kids run a mile a minute this way and that. On sunny days,a water slide and air trampoline are set up at Linda and Brian’s for all the kiddos to use.
To the children, I am Mailman Steve, a magician of sorts delivering something new each day; it doesn’t matter if it is usually only bills and catalogs for their parents. To them, it is a sort of magic that they eagerly await. That there is free stuff brought to their house each day is simply mind boggling. Better yet if its a birthday card or Christmas present but, at an age where they are learning to read and write, even a catalog is an illuminated manuscript of great significance. One mother of two children once told me, “if you are only delivering one thing, please tear it in half so that they both are handed something. Otherwise, I’ll never hear the end of it !”
A few years back, one of Gretchen and Flavio’s dear children drew a picture using colored pens, depicting me delivering her birthday cards and presents.. For undisclosed reasons, “Mailman Steve” is dressed as a flamenco dancer and the pony tail I was sporting at the time is the sash of my hat. And she, holding her present, looks quite remarkably like a cat. And there is a 5 tiered birthday cake served with blueberries, while one of her sisters looks on, laughing. Across the top of the drawing she wrote: “Der Mistr Miol Haw are you doing”.
At another time, I overheard a mother instructing her child: “Go to Mailman Steve if ever you are lost. He knows where you live and can bring you home”. Having moved around most of my life, at first due to my father’s vocation and later of my own volition, this sense of community, and being an integral part of it, is endearing and resonating for me. It has been delightful to witness babies growing from toddlers and adolescents becoming young adults during the last decade I have been on this same route.
Recently, a friend, who lives on my route, created a music video to promote a song off his upcoming album. He featured a number of the children from the neighborhood in the video, filming them riding bikes on our streets and at Columbia Park Annex. He used myself and Shawn Swanson to act as teachers in the classroom scenes. If you blink, you’d miss the footage of me, but it was an honor to be a part of the endeavor. What was an amusing outcome, however, was the youngest daughter of the Mizee family, whose brother plays the main role in the video, now comes up to me when I am delivering the mail , ever since she has seen the film, and tells me about her school day, how soccer practice went, or that she had a test that day. My guess is she thinks I am a teacher in my other job! It is very sweet, indeed.
And the right neighborly thing to do…
