Most everything about his job lived up to his childhood expectations.  As a child, he was given a book from an old aunt about seven postmen.  Some worked in the office, sorting mail and others talking to customers, others transported the mail by truck or train or plane, and then there was the well-known postman who showed up on America’s doorstep, day in, day out, save Sundays.  The one who delivered letters from grandmothers in Florida to grandsons in Ohio.  He had aspired to become that particular postman, and for years, had no regrets, even the day when he came in contact with an especially vicious and starving dog who was purposely underfed in order to develop a nasty temperment.


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