Thank You Bob for Helping Me Remember the Post Office

After reading Bob Templeton's blog today about the post office, I was once again lost in memories of a long, long time ago.  The post office was one of my favorite places to play.  I am sure I was a nuisance, however no one scolded me or ran me off.

As a kid growing up in Clinton, Ky. I lived in the best place in town, in my mind. Mama and I lived with her parents Harry and Fayetta Poe.  That in itself was wonderful.  Their house was located next door to the Post Office, across the street from the jail, and next door to Mrs. Klapp.  On either end of our block were two churches. To the right, the Methodist Church  to the left, the Baptist Church. Behind the jail was the library.  Across the street from the Methodist Church was Joe Wayne Weatherford's service station. At the other end of that block was another service station, where Mamamae and I drank a coke filled with peanuts almost every afternoon as we sat on the porch watching the traffic go by.

This photo was taken after Mamamae and Granddaddy had died. My mother eventually sold the house to the Methodist Church. It was used as a Sunday school room for awhile.

 I remember the post office allowed Granddaddy to build a garage at the back of our house. Legally, the land belonged to the post office. I doubt if that would happen today, anywhere.

When I was small, about 5 years old, I had a little dog named 'Booger'.  In our back yard was one large maple tree. The yard was fenced, to keep Booger and me at home.  Every morning I would run outside to the gate and find a piece of bubble gum.  Mr. Ben Hale had me convinced the bubble gum came from the tree.  However, he was always there laughing, as I shared my bubble gum with my dog.


I remember Billy Holland sitting out back and watching me play.  He would laugh and always had something funny to tell me. I thought a lot of him and Mr. Hales.


I would skate in the Post Office after 4 p.m. until Mama came home from work.


I stole the wanted posters for several years.  I was always looking for criminals and the post office had the cream of the crop of the most wanted--- straight from the FBI.  The were hung on a hook on the left side of a bulletin board. I helped myself--often.


I also remember Granddaddy's code to unlock his post office box. It was 1 mark before the H and right on the U.  The things the mind remembers.


Thank you Bob for helping me remember a favorite time in my life. I have enjoyed this afternoon reminiscing the antics of a little girl in Western Kentucky.