Reporter Eli Stokols talks with letter carrier Leeann Pallazola about changes to her route. (July 28, 2009)
DENVER, Colo. -
On South High Street, Leeann Pallazola is known for leaving Halloween candy on children's doorsteps, for writing thoughtful cards on their birthdays, even for showing up at the funerals of people who live on the block.
Nine years ago, she even went to great lengths on a day off to retrieve time-sensitive adoption documents needed to expedite one couple's adoption of a baby girl from China.
And, oh yeah -- five days a week for the last 13 years, she also delivered the mail.
"She's just been more than a mail carrier," said Laurel Harris, now the mother of two adopted daughters from China. "She's been a friend."
In two weeks, Pallazola will no longer spend her mornings and afternoons walking South High Street. The U.S. Postal Service is restructuring her route, and the routes of thousands of letter carriers nationwide, as part of an ongoing cost-saving effort.
"We don't want to be doing this, but our volume is down so much, we don't have another choice," said U.S.P.S. spokesman Al DeSarro. "This is the only way we can continue to provide affordable, quality service."
According to the Postal Service, mail volume has dropped by 9.5 billion pieces in just the last year. That's due in part to the recession, which has accelerated the ongoing shift from "snail mail" to email.
In many neighborhoods, where carriers come and go, people may not even notice that someone new is delivering their mail.
But that won't be the case on South High Street.
"I feel like I'm losing my best friend," said Izzy Longwell, 87, who lives alone and says that Pallazola is often times the only person she talks to during the day. "She brings my packages up to the house because she knows I have a hard time carrying them. And she'll sit and chat for a few minutes."
Inside Longwell's house, a photo of herself and Pallazola, and a postcard Leeann sent her last summer while on vacation in her native Massachusetts, sit on her mantle, beside a photo of Longwell's grandchildren.
"She's really become like my family," Longwell said. "I'd take her for my daughter. She's just such a caring person."
To Harris, Pallazola not only expedited the arrival of her own first daughter, Audrey, now 9, but has been like a favorite aunt to her and her sister, Claire, 6, who was also adopted from China.
"We have a sneaking suspicion that [Leeann's] responsible for the little bags of Halloween candy that appear on our doorstep every year," said Harris. "And whenever the girls see her out walking, they yell hello and go running up to see her."
To Pallazola, it's all just part of the job.
"You learn a lot from carrying people's mail," she said. "You know when it's their birthday because all the cards come in bright yellow or red envelopes. So I make sure to wish them a happy birthday. You see storks in people's lawns when they have a child so I send them cards. And, over all these years, I've watched a lot of those babies grow up."
Pallazola doesn't carry treats for the cats and dogs on her route, which is actually against Postal Service policy. But she knows their names, and how important they are to their owners.
"I had a cat that was really special to me that died," Harris said. "And Leeann wrote me a sweet card, even sent me a little gift. That's the kind of thing she does with all of us. And that's why we see her as a friend."
Pallazola said even as her route changes, she won't change how she does her job. But she'll miss her extended family on South High Street, and she worries about having enough time on her new route to make similar connections and friendships, especially as the postal service is planning to restructure routes more frequently in the future.
"It's old-fashioned, the mail, and maybe it's old-fashioned to deliver it and actually take the time to get to know people face-to-face," Pallazola said. "But it's really about more than just delivering the mail today. It's taking the extra 60 seconds to say hello, how are you doing? Did your boy win his baseball game last night?
"And that kind of contact is going away."
Last week, the people on Pallazola's route got a letter unlike any she'd delivered before -- a farewell note she penned herself.
"You, South High Street, have been a part of my life for 13 years," the letter began. "Thank you for welcoming me onto your street, into your homes and into your hearts. I will never forget you."
"We'll keep in touch," said Longwell, teary-eyed after re-reading Pallazola's letter. "But I won't see her every day any more. And that's sad."
Nine years ago, she even went to great lengths on a day off to retrieve time-sensitive adoption documents needed to expedite one couple's adoption of a baby girl from China.
And, oh yeah -- five days a week for the last 13 years, she also delivered the mail.
"She's just been more than a mail carrier," said Laurel Harris, now the mother of two adopted daughters from China. "She's been a friend."
In two weeks, Pallazola will no longer spend her mornings and afternoons walking South High Street. The U.S. Postal Service is restructuring her route, and the routes of thousands of letter carriers nationwide, as part of an ongoing cost-saving effort.
"We don't want to be doing this, but our volume is down so much, we don't have another choice," said U.S.P.S. spokesman Al DeSarro. "This is the only way we can continue to provide affordable, quality service."
According to the Postal Service, mail volume has dropped by 9.5 billion pieces in just the last year. That's due in part to the recession, which has accelerated the ongoing shift from "snail mail" to email.
In many neighborhoods, where carriers come and go, people may not even notice that someone new is delivering their mail.
But that won't be the case on South High Street.
"I feel like I'm losing my best friend," said Izzy Longwell, 87, who lives alone and says that Pallazola is often times the only person she talks to during the day. "She brings my packages up to the house because she knows I have a hard time carrying them. And she'll sit and chat for a few minutes."
Inside Longwell's house, a photo of herself and Pallazola, and a postcard Leeann sent her last summer while on vacation in her native Massachusetts, sit on her mantle, beside a photo of Longwell's grandchildren.
"She's really become like my family," Longwell said. "I'd take her for my daughter. She's just such a caring person."
To Harris, Pallazola not only expedited the arrival of her own first daughter, Audrey, now 9, but has been like a favorite aunt to her and her sister, Claire, 6, who was also adopted from China.
"We have a sneaking suspicion that [Leeann's] responsible for the little bags of Halloween candy that appear on our doorstep every year," said Harris. "And whenever the girls see her out walking, they yell hello and go running up to see her."
To Pallazola, it's all just part of the job.
"You learn a lot from carrying people's mail," she said. "You know when it's their birthday because all the cards come in bright yellow or red envelopes. So I make sure to wish them a happy birthday. You see storks in people's lawns when they have a child so I send them cards. And, over all these years, I've watched a lot of those babies grow up."
Pallazola doesn't carry treats for the cats and dogs on her route, which is actually against Postal Service policy. But she knows their names, and how important they are to their owners.
"I had a cat that was really special to me that died," Harris said. "And Leeann wrote me a sweet card, even sent me a little gift. That's the kind of thing she does with all of us. And that's why we see her as a friend."
Pallazola said even as her route changes, she won't change how she does her job. But she'll miss her extended family on South High Street, and she worries about having enough time on her new route to make similar connections and friendships, especially as the postal service is planning to restructure routes more frequently in the future.
"It's old-fashioned, the mail, and maybe it's old-fashioned to deliver it and actually take the time to get to know people face-to-face," Pallazola said. "But it's really about more than just delivering the mail today. It's taking the extra 60 seconds to say hello, how are you doing? Did your boy win his baseball game last night?
"And that kind of contact is going away."
Last week, the people on Pallazola's route got a letter unlike any she'd delivered before -- a farewell note she penned herself.
"You, South High Street, have been a part of my life for 13 years," the letter began. "Thank you for welcoming me onto your street, into your homes and into your hearts. I will never forget you."
"We'll keep in touch," said Longwell, teary-eyed after re-reading Pallazola's letter. "But I won't see her every day any more. And that's sad."
