Headford News and Community Spotlight - Mail Model

Last Friday was Spring Equinox, and our friends at The Woodland League, headquartered in Scarriff, County Clare, would like to remind us that, 'This is an excellent time to give thanks, respect and praise for the Forests - for all the seen and unseen benefits they bestow on ALL living beings. They never ask nor take anything in return, standing silently, giving their all unconditionally. The prophet Mohammad said, "The person who plants one tree and takes care to nurture it, at the end of their days, will go straight to heaven." On that note, perhaps each of us could also consider pledging to plant one tree and take care of it in 2014, and spread the message far and wide.'
http://www.woodlandleague.org/


Happy Spring Equinox, Headford!


COMMUNITY SPOTLIGHT 

The Job of a Rural Postman

Mail Model

When Olly O’Connor first started delivering the post in the Headford area back in 1996, he probably didn’t imagine he’d still be delivering the post eighteen years later. Back then, the post office, now a derelict old building, was inside John Molloy’s house in Ower, and Olly had just one week to learn all 200 houses and names on his route.

His first day on the job, at the age of twenty, Olly says, ‘John Malloy showed me around, then I was pretty much on my own.’ Because there were no house numbers or specific addresses, Olly kept a small book with notes like, ‘so and so lives in the house with the green door.’ In one village, he says, there were seven families with the surname ‘Lee.’ So, if he had an envelope addressed to ‘Mr. Lee,’ it might take a bit of detective work to figure out where it should go.

Then, of course, there’s the dog issue. Postmen are forever getting bitten by dogs, and Olly is no exception. ‘But I’ve had my tetanus shot now,’ he says. He reckons dogs attack postmen because they come and go so quickly, ‘like robbers,’ which is ironic, since he’s leaving things instead of taking them away.

Today, Olly says, ‘It takes two weeks to train new [postal delivery] people.’ And Olly is a great role model, having trained several others on his own route. His day begins early, sorting letters and packages by area. Then he loads them all in his van and takes off. He has to stop and collect post from pick-up boxes at a precise time. Scanning the bar code on the green letter box at 9:59 a.m. instead of 10:00 will bring a call and a complaint from his supervisor.

Most days, Olly’s job is a race against the clock. He’s got to bring the post back to Headford in time for the 3:45 p.m. pick up. If he doesn’t get deliveries to all the houses on his route done first, then he has to drive back out into the countryside and deliver the rest of the post.

Just after the turn of the century, in about 2000, greed engendered by the Celtic Tiger became widely apparent in the area. New houses popped up like mushrooms, creating the flood plains we now have in the countryside surrounding Headford. By 2004, the rural post office in Ower was moved to Headford, and Olly’s job became even more complex. Today, there are 417 houses and three schools on his route.

Olly says the best part of his job is getting to listen to whatever radio channel he wants while he’s working, and changing the channel as much as he wants. ‘If I was in a factory or something, I’d have to listen to whatever someone else wanted.’ As you might imagine, he gets a lot of alone time in that green van, so if you see him rockin’ out when he drives by, he’s probably listening to some good tunes. But if he sees you on the road, he always waves and will even stop and hand you your post through the car window.

The worst part of his job is a wet day.

‘Why?’ I ask.

‘Because no one wants a wet letter.’

Which brings up the inevitable topic of weather, and I have to ask him if that old postman’s creed it true. Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds, was originally a quote from an ancient Greek named Herodotus (circa 500 BCE) who was describing the Persian system of mounted postal carriers. Olly tells me that’s still the case, the post must be delivered regardless of weather. In 2010, when there was ice everywhere and we were all warned to stay home, Olly was out delivering our post. Christmas time, however, is the real challenge. Every year. ‘There’s loads to be done,’ Olly says, ‘and you’re under pressure to get it all done before dark (because of the short days).’

Olly loves to travel, but not necessarily up the one kilometre driveway of one of the houses where he has to deliver the post. ‘I dread when that guy gets a letter,’ he quips. He’s been to the beach in Key West, Florida; tangoed in Cuba; been tossed around on a small fishing boat in the Atlantic off the coast of Valencia, Spain,; over a month in Argentina; been to London, Yorkshire, Leeds and done the Jack-the-Ripper tour; visited what was left of the Berlin wall; Lourdes, France; Munich; floated down a canal in Holland; visited Edinburgh Castle; Belgium; Portugal; the Dominican Republic; didn’t gamble in Las Vegas (but did enjoy the beer); and would not recommend Rio de Janeiro (‘capitals aren’t great places to go’).

When I ask Olly what he’d like people to know about his job, he has to think about it. Finally, he says, ‘A lot of people like to talk about the weather and then we got to make up the time.’ So if he seems like he’s in a hurry to get away from you, don’t take it personally. He’s just doing his job. And it’s also good to keep in mind that, unlike a courier service, an An Post employee, like Olly, has to hand you your package, or leave it for you at the Post Office. That package won’t be left with an unknown neighbour or dropped-kicked to your door. All the more reason to appreciate our local postman.