I mailed out my last Christmas card for this year today in Vaughn. The tiny, old post office looks like something out of the Wild West with its creaky wood porch and floors. Three people would be a bit crowded if they were all inside at once. But I’ve never run into anyone else in there at the same time.
In spite of its age and size the Vaughn post office has been a welcome sight to me and I’m sure to others, too. Especially when the other post offices in the ten-mile range are all closed on a Saturday and I’m trying to take advantage of that extra travel day for my packages or mail.
Aside from the visual comfort I receive from going there, the attendant at the window is always most pleasant. This cordial interaction between customer and clerk makes me feel like I was born and raised here. Like being home. That's a good feeling, indeed.
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