A Man of Letters

It had been a particularly hard day, I recall, and I was really getting tired of trying to cross busy intersections with my mail in tow, breathing exhaust gasses from the endless stream of cars, trucks and buses. Then had come the phone call, back in our little apartment in Chicago one day after I had returned from work, carrying mail on those big city streets.

“Hello Jess!” said an unfamiliar voice.“It looks like you have a job in Kachuda, if you still want it.”It was Walt Meyers, and his voice sounded angelic to me at that moment.

And so, here I was, heading north, with the skyscrapers behind me, and nothing but rolling green hills and rough sandstone bluffs before me.Marie was still in Chicago, putting in the notice on her job, and packing up for our trip North. Kachuda is a Mississippi river town, and is located in what geologists call the Driftless region; a narrow band that follows the river valley, that was never flattened and scoured by the glaciers in the last ice age.The whole area, including our new home outside of Wild Rose, was dotted with innumerable coulees, named by the early French explorers in the area to signify the many three sided valleys.The coulees all have names, our own coulee was called Norse Lake coulee, we later learned.

I drove up to what would soon be my own and Marie’s front door, and got out and stretched.Lars Olsen, the farmer who still lived in our new house and his wife, Bridgett, still lived in the house while they were building a new house high on the hill across the road.I would be a tenant living in this big old house- I felt like their son!

Lars was a strong man with work roughened hands, and Bridgette a tiny little woman with a ready smile.They had lived here their whole married lives, farming the land, and working in town both.They welcomed me into the house, and even fed me supper that day.I even got my own bedroom upstairs, which was about half the size of our whole Chicago apartment!I straightened up my few things, and then went down to spend time with my new “family”.

The living room had huge goldfish on the wallpaper, and there was an old console wooden television and an old upright piano against the wall.A couch, a couple of chairs, nothing fancy.Lars and Bridgette slept in a downstairs bedroom- the only bathroom was downstairs, put into the old walk in pantry.We all sat down, and on my first night in my new home, I watched television with an old Norwegian farmer couple, and chatted with Bridgette while Lars fell asleep in his chair.This was to become our exciting nightly routine.

I could literally FEEL the quiet outside, the total lack of traffic, and the sense of peace that comes from being in the country- the feeling of not being rushed.I would start my new job at the Kachuda post office the next day, which was a bit nerve wracking, but also quite exciting as well- what would it be like?A new town, a new way of life, and my new wife (Marie and I had married only the year before)- life would be unpredictable from here on out!

I took to the rhythm of working life in the Driftless region very well indeed.In the mornings, I came down quite early into the Andersen’s kitchen before Lars and Bridgette were up- both were now retired from their town jobs.I’d make myself a bowl of cereal, pack a lunch, and then set off in my old red truck for the “big city” of Kachuda- maybe 40,000 souls.Quite a far cry from the Windy City and its millions!

About a 20 minute drive, and very little traffic- a far cry indeed!And then, into the antique, 150 year old post office, with ornate stonework, high towers, and an dumbwaiter to the basement where we sorted our mail.Everything about Kachuda was like going back in time to a gentler era, but the post office seemed even further back!The beautiful old building was getting a little run down, and even had bats up in the towers, but it was a focus for the town, a beautiful hood ornament on a historic river town that still had paddleboats stopping down in the Park of the River.

p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-indent: 18.0px; font: 18.0px Georgia} p.p2 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-indent: 18.0px; font: 18.0px Georgia; min-height: 21.0px}

I thought about the past few months: Marie had joined me in our new home- everyone thereabouts called it “the Manor”, no one remembered why, but that’s what everyone had called that old farmhouse for years and years. I had taken to carrying mail in Kachuda far better than I could have thought.Each day was a long walk through beautiful, tree lined neighborhoods with quaint houses and very little traffic.I even had a route that I was “holding down” while the old regular carrier, Bert, was off on extended sick leave!And I was getting to know the “Patrons” on the route pretty well…