A year after introducing its parcel service in 1913, the US Post Office struggled to define what could and could not be sent, as people tested the boundaries by mailing coffins, construction bricks, puppies, freshly-laid eggs, snakes and other reptiles, small farm animals, and even their own children, from one location to another…
Abigail watched with curious excitement as her mother carefully packed all of her clothes into a little suitcase, topping it off with her favorite doll, sweet Annabelle, before closing and latching the bag shut.
“I’m so excited to go stay with Grandpa for a little while, but why can’t I hold Annabelle? I promise I won’t lose her!”
“I know that you’re very fond of your little doll because you always take such good care of her. But this trip to visit your grandfather is different and Annabelle needs to stay in the suitcase. You can take her out as soon as you get to Grandpa’s house, just not before then, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now, you’re all ready to go. You’re going to have so much fun, it will be an experience you’ll treasure for a long, long time!”
“Am I going to fly to Grandpa’s house?”
“Oh, no, dear. That’s way too expensive for us to afford. Besides, I don’t really trust you being safe in an aeroplane – it could be very dangerous!”
“So, I’m going on a train ride, huh?”
“Well, perhaps. I’m not exactly sure how it works. But, you should be at Grandpa’s house in a week or so!”
Abigail’s mother leaned over, lovingly kissed her 6-year-old daughter on the cheek, pat her on the head, and then stuck 15¢ of postage directly onto the front of her little coat. At just 38 pounds and 42 inches tall, that was all it required to send her first-grader to her grandfather’s house 720 miles away. The child’s mother also paid $50 worth of insurance, just in case. But, this particular parent wasn’t the only one who would take advantage of such cheap rates.
In 1914, war in Europe erupted and the United States wasn’t anxious to get involved, suffering from a domestic recession that would last until the end of the calendar year. Production and real income were substantially down and Americans shared mostly the same sentiment – it was a conflict an ocean away and there wasn’t a compelling reason to take sides. (At least, not for another three years, until the Zimmerman Telegram became public knowledge.)
At present, domestic issues were definitely a top priority. And, with a weak economy reminding people of the Panic of 1910-1911 still fresh in the minds of consumers and investors alike, that “it’s Europe’s problem” attitude wouldn’t change. Besides, the government had recently created the Federal Reserve System, a central banking institution, in December of 1913. It would ostensibly help to balance out market forces and provide stability.
So, people watched their spending carefully. And the new parcel service provided an affordable alternative to other choices. However, it wasn’t very well regulated and a number of individuals and families seized upon the opportunity to exploit the confusion for their own benefit between 1913 and 1915. During those two years, at least more than a half dozen children were sent through parcel mail service. And, little Abigail was one of them.
“Now dear, be sure to leave the pretty stickers on your coat and I’ll put some on your luggage, too. That’s your bag’s ticket to grandpa’s house, okay?”
“Okay, I won’t touch them.”
“And, once you get there, you can take your coat off, take a warm bath and change into any outfit you like.”
“That sounds great, Mommy!”
Abigail’s mom secured the postage on her daughter’s suitcase. Then, got her little girl a glass of water. She picked up the small bag and lead the tike out to the sidewalk, where they both stood and waited. Just moments later, the local mailman approached and greeted them.
“Hello, there little lady, and how are you and your mom doing on this fine day?”
“We’re great!”
“That’s wonderful to hear!”
“Abigail, this is Mister Ted, he’ll take you where you need to go.”
“Sure, I guess…I mean, I’d be happy to do so. What grade are you in?”
“I’m in the first grade; I’m six years old now and I’m going to my grandpa’s house way up in Virginia, Mister Ted!”
“Virginia huh? Isn’t that terrific! Maybe it’s a touch warmer up there – though I kind of doubt it.”
“Yes, it is and I’m very excited to visit with him for a little while!”
“Oh, I’m sure you are, little lady. Say, Abigail, do you have anything to take with you?”
“Yes, here’s her suitcase. I bought plenty of postage for both of them to go all the way to her grandfather’s place.”
“Well, now, we’ll be on our way!”
“Okay, goodbye, mom, I love you!”
“I love you too, dear!”
It would be the start of a long, interesting journey. Abigail’s mother was sending her daughter via the new parcel service a great distance – from Pensacola Florida to Christiansburg Virginia – seven-hundred and twenty miles one way. It would take about a week for the little girl to make it from her home to her grandfather’s – beginning with a short stroll, then onto a truck, and a train ride for most of the way. The route would continue with a wagon ride, and finally, conclude with a lengthy walk. Unfortunately, the little girl would face some trying challenges during her circuitous journey.
Although Abigail was probably the only child to be “mailed” or “posted” such a great distance, she wasn’t alone. Decades before any parent sent their unaccompanied child on a plane, some resourceful folks had figured out it was possible to get their kids from one place to another – and for considerably less. Train travel was one of the fastest and most popular choices, but it was a whole lot more expensive, especially when compared to postage.
Prior to its offering parcel pick-up and deliveries, the US Postal service capped any packages at just four pounds – not even a newborn would be so small. But, the introduction of the parcel option prompted people to save money and that’s precisely what some did. Since there weren’t any regulations about what could be sent through the parcel service, all sorts of cargo began to show up in short order, including one Ohio infant. The Beagues mailed their newborn baby about a mile away, from their own home to the child’s grandmother’s house, in January 1913. The infant boy was carried the entire way by a mailman while warmly bundled up to protect the baby from the bitter, biting cold. But Abigail’s trip would be a lot different.
“Okay, little lady, if it’s alright with you, we’ll walk the rest of my route. Then, I’ll take you to the distribution center.”
“What’s a distra…ah distra..ah mution center?”
“Distribution center, Abby. Do you mind if I call you Abby? I have a niece with your very name. But, everyone in the family calls her Abby.”
“No, don’t mind, Mister Ted – I kind of like the name ‘Abby.’ So, what’s a distribution center?”
“Oh yeah, sorry, the cold must have frozen my brain. The distribution center is the building where all the letters and packages are sorted so they get where they’re supposed to go.”
“I see. It must be a big place.”
“Sure is. Say, it sure is chilly out here. Are you plenty warm?”
“I’m a bit cold, but my mom dressed me in one of my favorite coats.”
“Well, my route isn’t much longer. Just a few more houses to go and then we’ll head over to the administration office. And guess what? I think you’re going for a truck ride!”
“Really? I’ve never been in any type of automobile!”
“If that’s the case, today is your lucky day! So, let’s pick up our pace and get out of the cold as soon as we can!”
The two hastened their collective stride, delivering the last of the letters along the route. Abigail enjoyed it, having fun delivering mail to her neighbors was a real treat. Ordinarily, she’d spend almost the entire day inside, probably doing little more than coloring and listening to the radio after dinner. After all, school wasn’t a requirement at this time. Even though many parents took advantage of local public school options, not all did.
In Abigail’s case, her mother was a widow, her husband was killed three years ago in a tragic manufacturing accident. This forced her mom to seek employment. But her mom’s schedule would sometimes conflict with the school’s and this presented an ongoing problem. Her mother’s ultimate solution was to send Abigail to live with her grandfather, continue to work, and save in order to relocate from Florida to Virginia so the three of them could live together.
It wasn’t exactly a perfect plan, but it was the only sensible thing to do. Abigail’s mom couldn’t really afford to live entirely on her own anymore and moving in with her mom’s father would not only provide more financial security but stability for Abby. However, that still meant making the trip from Florida to Virginia and Abigail’s mother couldn’t afford a plane ticket or train fare. The new parcel service gave her an option she didn’t previously have.
Saying goodbye to her little daughter broke her heart, though it was only a temporary arrangement. Within just a couple to a few months, they’d be reunited and starting a brand new life in a totally different environment. This thought is what gave Abigail’s mother the strength to hold back her tears as she watched her little girl walk away, down the block, until she disappeared from sight. But soon enough, they’d see each other again under much better circumstances – hopefully.
“Fellows, this little lady here is Abigail, or Abby. She’s on her way to visit her grandfather in Virginia!”
“My, my! That’s a heck of a journey!”
“Sure is. But, we’ll have you there in about a week, Abby.”
“So, where do I take this sweet girl from here?”
“I’m not right sure, there, Ted. Let’s ask the supervisor.”
“Okay, you wait right here, Abby, I’ll be right back.”
“All right, Mister Ted…I will.”
The postal workers spoke with their supervisor. Although this wasn’t explicitly against regulations, the parcel wasn’t supposed to be used to ship livestock or children. So, it was a unique situation, one that had to be treated with special care.
“Ted, are you really telling me that a mother has actually mailed her first-grade daughter?”
“Yep, that’s what I’m telling you.”
“Okay, I’ve dealt with baby chicks before, but this is completely different.”
“Baby chicks, sir?”
“Yeah, last year, about a month after the parcel service went live. Where is this little girl, Ted?”
“Right in the distribution center. But, I’m not sure what to do with her next.”
“In that case, I suppose it’s best to get her to the train station. Who’s driving the Model T truck today?”
“I think Darren, sir.”
“When he gets back, have him drive the girl to the train station. Let those folks figure out what to do from there!”
“Well, do, sir.”
“Okay, there Abby. How would you like to take a ride in a real postal truck?”
“That sounds like a lot of fun, Mister Ted!”
“Follow me, little lady, and I’ll introduce you to one of my coworkers, Mister Darren!”
Ted walked Abigail over to the loading dock where they waited for Darren to return from his route. Ted passed the time by showing her around and letting her guess what was in different packages.
“Can we open some of them up to see if I’m right, Mister Ted?”
“I wish I could do that for you, Abby, but those belong to other people. And, look who’s here!”
“Hey, Ted, who is this?”
“Hi, Darren. This here is Abigail or Abby…she’s going to her grandpa’s house in Virginia. The super said you’d be able to drive her to the train station.”
“Well, now, I think I can do that.”
Darren paused, then leaned over and whispered to Ted, “What kind of joke is this?”
“It’s not,” Ted whispered back.
“Really?”
“Yep, it’s real.”
Darren nodded his head, still struggling to accept the situation. Then, he crouched down and shook the little girl’s hand, taking a moment to nonchalantly examine the postage stuck to her coat. When he saw it was genuine, he realized it truly wasn’t a prank.
“All right, then. Why don’t you say goodbye to Mister Ted and we’ll take a ride to the train station.”
Abigail gave Ted a hug, and he hugged her back. They said goodbye to one another, then she followed Darren to the mail truck. He put her suitcase in the back of the truck, and put her in the passenger’s seat, making sure she was comfortable.
“Are you ready to go to the train station, Miss Abigail?”
“Most definitely! I’ve never been in an automobile or on a train, for that matter!”
“Well, then, this is going to be an exciting experience for you!”
Darren furiously turned the engine crack on the front several times, then hastily hopped inside and started the engine with a key. The truck responded by shaking, backfiring once, then slowly creeping along. Abigail was startled by the unexpected, loud noise, and cowered down into the thinly padded seat.
“Don’t be afraid. This truck might not be that old, but it’s got a lot of wear and tear. So, it makes these scary sounds sometimes.”
“I’ve heard that sound before. But, never so close.”
“You’ll be happy to know that it probably won’t happen again. We’ll be at the train station before you know it. So, just sit back and relax.”
“Okay, Mister Darren.”
They drove for several minutes, enjoying the passing scenery while taking temporary refuge from the biting cold outside. While it was still chilly in the cab, it was relatively comfortable and the heat from the engine helped to warm the space enough to make it a little cozier. Suddenly, the truck began to shimmy, wobbling back and forth. Something was wrong.
Darren carefully slowed the vehicle, then pulled it over to the side of the road, coming to an abrupt stop on the soft sand shoulder. He quickly shut off the engine, and took the keys out of the ignition, throwing them in anger onto the seat.
“What just happened, Mister Darren?”
“I think one of the tires went flat, Miss Abigail. You stay here, inside. I’ll go out and check to see what’s going on.”
Sure enough, it was a flat tire. Darren carefully looked it over and discovered an upholstery tack stuck in the rubber, letting the air slowly seep out. The tack must have come loose at some point, fallen between the gaps in the floorboard, and punctured the tire. It was only a matter of time before it went flat. Luckily, there was a good spare mounted on the side of the truck and still plenty of daylight.
Darren opened the driver’s door and told Abigail about the flat. “Now, you just sit tight, this shouldn’t take too long, and then, we’ll be back on our way to the train station.”
He studied the spare for a few moments, deciphering how it could be dismounted, and pushed down hard on the rubber to ensure it was inflated. It took several minutes, but Darren finally got the truck lifted on a jack, allowing him to take the flat off the vehicle, roll it to the rear, and toss it in the back cargo area, right alongside empty mail sacks.
Then, he realized it wasn’t possible to hold onto all the parts and take the spare off the truck and replace the flat. So, he had to ask Abigail to help.
“Hey Abby, would you mind helping Mister Darren out for a few minutes?”
“No, not at all!”
“Thank you, little lady!”
“What can I do to help, Mister Darren?”
“First things first, Abby. I need you to hold these things so they don’t get lost, okay?”
“Should I put them in my coat pocket?”
“That’s a fine idea, their missy!”
Darren worked fast to change the tire, almost in a slapdash manner that made Abigail giggle. But, it was good enough to get the job done. He was impressed by how well Abby listened and how helpful she was. As he congratulated and praised her, a large freight truck came barreling down the road, so close to the side it alarmed Darren, who quickly picked up the first-grader and ran to the passenger’s side to safety.
“What on earth was that, Mister Darren?”
“A very careless driver, Abby! He almost sideswiped us! That was a close call – we could have been crushed!”
“Boy, I guess that was a close call!” Abby replied as he hugged her closely, then gently put the little girl back into the mail truck, before furiously turning the crank on the front and again hastily hopping in the cab to turn the key in the ignition and start the engine.
Darren settled in his seat, checked his petite passenger, then pulled back onto the road, saying, “All right, we’re back on track. We should be at the train station in no time, now!”
Abigail could picture the station and imagined a huge engine with a loud whistle that she might get to blow with the permission of the engineer.
A short time later, the two arrived at the train station. Darren retrieved Abigail’s suitcase and walked her to the mailroom. He introduced the little girl to the station master and they all went directly to the mail staging area. The letter carrier apprised the station master of the first-grader’s situation and then discussed it with the mail manager.
At this time in American history, mail was carried in a number of ways. But, the two most prominent means were by train and by person. Although some automobiles were used to transport letters and packages, there were still far more horse-and-buggies carrying correspondence and parcels. The track engines were of course the quickest way to get envelopes and boxes from senders to recipients. A journey such as Abigail’s would take approximately three days on the rails – not including the other means.
Being early in the onset of winter, any of these delivery methods could be compromised or shut down outright, causing delays. The good news for Abby is that she’d be taken directly to her grandfather’s house, rather than him having to pick up his granddaughter at the train station or airport, where she might not yet be due to weather and other kinds of delays.
This meant her grandfather wouldn’t have to guess about when to meet her or keep calling the train station or the airport for arrival information. Besides, telephone service was still relatively new in the area, as the Montgomery Intelligence Company had only recently installed the voice communication infrastructure and they were still party lines, at that. No, it was more convenient for Abigail to be delivered directly. And, she was now well on her way.
“All right Abby, this is Mister Rory. He’s got a funny accent and he’s going to get you on the train!”
“Hello, Mister Rory!”
“Hi there, Colleen!”
“My name isn’t ‘Colleen,’ it’s Abigail!”
“I mean little girl, you know, like lassie?”
“Not really.”
“You see, Colleen is how us Irishmen say ‘little girl.’”
“Oh! Well, why not ‘honey’ or ‘dear’?”
“Colleen comes from a Gaelic word and I’m just used to saying it.”
Rory was totally different from anyone Abigail had ever seen. He spoke with a heavy Irish brogue and had bright red hair, a big red beard, and freckles all over his white, pale face. He had large forearms with wiry hair and a very hardy laugh that made her smile.
“I thought garlic was for cooking, Mister Rory?”
“No, Colleen, not ‘garlic,’ ‘Gaelic!’”
“Gaelic?”
“It’s a foreign language to you, I suppose. But, it’s what Irish people speak in their own country.”
“Is that where you’re from, Ireland?”
“Yes. A small port town called Droichead Átha or Drogheda. It means the bridge at the ford or bridge at the causeway.”
“I see. Then, how do you say ‘good afternoon?’”
“Tráthnóna maith!”
“I can’t even pronounce that!”
“Don’t worry, Colleen, I’ll just stick with English!”
Rory took Abigail’s suitcase from Darren and the two shook hands. As Darren turned to walk back to the mail truck, Abby pulled at his coat, causing him to spin back around. She gave him a huge hug and thanked him for getting her safely to the train station. He bid her farewell and invited her to ride in the mail truck any time she wanted. Then she looked out over the platform, curious as to when the train would pull up to the station.
“When will the train be here, Mister Rory?”
“Oh, not long, about twenty-five minutes.”
“May I ask, where are you going?”
“To my grandpa’s house in Virginia.”
“Sounds like you’re very excited!”
“I am, Mister Rory! I’ve never been on a train before!”
“Well, you’ll have a blast!”
“Can I blow the horn?”
“I know the engineer pretty well and I think that can be arranged. He may even let you drive the train, Colleen!”
“That would be a lot of fun!”
Rory took to the little girl right away. She reminded him of his younger sister in so many ways. His family had lost her in the fight between the republicans and loyalists when a bomb went off in the street. Abigail was the spitting image of his sister when she was that age. Her death was too hard on his father, who drank himself into an early grave, leaving Rory and his mother destitute and forcing them to move to London, before immigrating to America.
They had to get out because their hometown had become far too dangerous. The slums grew larger and larger, infested with deadly diseases, a massive fatality rate, and high unemployment, causing day-to-day life to be a daily struggle. Rory’s mother didn’t want him to fall into a gang or join up with the republicans. So, they fled and left their only-known home behind.
Ten years after moving to America, Rory had become the mail manager of the station. It was a great honor for him and made his mother very proud. She would visit him sometimes, so she was fairly well known about the stop. The employees liked her for her feisty nature and no-nonsense attitude. She also made some of the most delicious whiskey truffles and nobody complained when she brought in a fresh batch.
But, those weren’t appropriate for a first-grader. However, there were still a couple of slices of Irish apple cake and it was one of the sweetest Rory’s mother had ever baked.
“How would you like a treat?”
“I haven’t even had supper yet, Mister Rory.”
“You don’t say.”
“Nope.”
“Well, we’ve still got some time before the train arrives. How about some Shepherd’s Pie and a big slice of apple cake?”
“That sounds delicious!”
Rory quickly prepared a leftover meal for both of them and Abigail loved it. She had Shepherd’s Pie before, but this was different. And, the apple cake was so scrumptious that she ate the last two slices all by herself. When they finished, the train began to approach, blowing its whistle, announcing its arrival.
“Is that the train, Mister Rory?”
“Sure is, Colleen. Now, let’s make sure that you’ve got your bag.”
Rory cleaned up after them and then retrieved her suitcase, setting it down beside her, checking that it was securely latched shut. He busied himself with routine, habitual tasks he performed every time a train came into the station, explaining his every move to Abby as she shadowed him around. He had so many things to do, so he followed a lengthy checklist, even though he had long ago memorized all the different yet interrelated steps.
Once he finished, the mail postal manager went over what he had just done, letting Abigail hold the clipboard and draw a line through each item. But, something was amiss. Usually, a man would step off the train and come into the mail room to pick up the letters and packages. But, no one appeared and that could only mean one thing – the little girl wouldn’t have anyone to accompany her on the train ride.
After all, most of the time, there wasn’t a reason for anyone to be there to specifically stay with the mail bags stuffed full of envelopes and boxes that would be neatly stacked up beside them. So, Rory instructed Abigail to wait at his desk while he momentarily spoke with the locomotive driver who was still at the controls, monitoring the systems and levels, as cargo was loaded and unloaded.
“Is anyone riding in the mail car?”
“Not that I know.”
“Well, that means we’ve got a bit of a problem on our hands.”
“What problem?”
“There’s a little girl traveling by post. She’s supposed to be on this train. But, someone must accompany her.”
“Did you say a little girl? You mean, an actual human being?”
“Aye. A real little girl. She’s on her way to visit her grandfather in Virginia.”
“Oh!”
“Who’s on the manifest? Is there someone who can ride with her in the mail car? Or, anywhere else?”
“I’m afraid not, we’re bare bones on this route. Just myself, my assistant conductor, and our engineer.”
“Between the three of you, that ought to be enough.”
“I wish it was. We’ll be too busy runnin’ this ole wreck. She should have been put out of service many years ago. Unfortunately, it’s still making runs and this particular one is skeleton crew only.”
Rory wasn’t about to put Abigail on a train where she’d be mostly on her own. Especially given the fact there were a number of stops ahead and she could easily get off at the wrong place and find herself hopelessly lost. He couldn’t bear the thought and so, he decided he would just go with her.
The station mail manager hopped off the train and returned to his office. He jotted down a quick note, called an employee in, handed the worker the paper, whispered something, and then began tidying up his workspace. Abigail just stood silently and watched, perplexed by what was going on. She gripped the handle on her suitcase tightly, wishing she could open it to retrieve her favorite doll, Annabelle. But, she couldn’t disobey her mother’s instructions. Becoming anxious, she started to tear up.
Rory noticed and immediately stopped what he was doing to crouch down and give her a firm hug. “Now, what could you possibly be upset about, Colleen?”
“I don’t really know. I just feel a little afraid, I guess.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“But, I can’t hold Annabelle and I really, really want to!”
“Annabelle? Who’s Annabelle, Colleen?”
“She’s my doll, my best friend!”
“Oh, I see. Did you leave her at home?”
“No, she’s right here in my bag. But, my mom said I have to leave her in there because that’s the only way she can travel.”
“Because of the postage stickers?”
“That’s right.”
“Hmmm. That’s no problem. I’m the station mail manager and I hereby declare Annabelle can travel with you, Miss Colleen!”
Rory opened Abigail’s luggage, pulled the doll out, and handed the toy to the first-grader, who hugged it tightly. “Thank you, Mister Rory!”
“No trouble at all, little lady! Now, I’ve got to get back to what I was doing.”
“What were you doing anyway?”
“Just getting things in order here. I can’t leave my office such a mess.”
“Where are you going, Mister Rory?”
“With you, Abby, with you!”
“You are?”
“Yes, indeed! Turns out there’s no one to ride with you on the train. And, being a dedicated post manager, I’ve got to ensure everything is delivered to the right location. That is, if you don’t mind me tagging along?”
Abigail was delighted to hear the news. She helped Rory organize his things, eager to get aboard the train that was getting ready to depart from the station. As Rory finished up, she looked out his office window, watching all the action on the tracks right outside.
She listened attentively, hearing all kinds of noises, and the steam from the stacks seemed to magically float and disappear into the clear blue sky. When the last whistle blew, she tried to imitate the sound, but just couldn’t copy it. Rory chuckled, then placed his thumb and forefinger between his puckered lips, whistling with a loud, high pitch. The silly gesture made Abigail giggle and she tried to emulate it, but couldn’t.
Rory let out a funny chortle, picked up her suitcase, then motioned for Abigail to follow him out of his office and onto the train. They made their way down to the mail car, where he began organizing the huge letter sacks and rearranging the boxes.
Abby helped as best she could, but spent most of her time asking questions. He kindly obliged, answering as many as he knew with a lighthearted tone. Occasionally, the little girl would stump Rory, but in those instances, he just pleaded ignorance, though promised he would find out one way or another. It might have merely been placation, but it was good enough for her.
As they worked and chatted, the train suddenly shuttered, lurching forward, then abruptly paused, only to lurch forward once again, causing the child to stumble right into one of the overstuffed mail sacks. It was a soft landing and actually a bit fun, akin to leaping into a big pile of raked leaves on a crisp autumn day. Abigail tittered, sprung back up, and jumped onto the mail sack again.
Rory watched and smiled, then grabbed a large wooden box to steady himself as the train started to pick up speed. Faster and faster it went down the tracks until it hit its full stride. If it were warm enough, they could slide the car doors open but it was now getting dark and the already chilly outside temperature would fall even further in the absence of the sun.
After a little while, Rory took Abby to the supply car, where they snacked on various items. The next morning, they’d arrive at the next stop, where they could enjoy a hearty breakfast. As they ate, a small-statured, neatly dressed man with a stern expression suddenly appeared. He approached stoically, not so much as smiling as if deliberately concealing an unapproving, sneering attitude. He immediately came across as petulant and snide.
“Mr. O’Malley, I presume?”
“Rory.”
“Fine, Rory. I have a cable here, a telegram that states you’re accompanying a child who has been ‘mailed.’ Is that correct?”
“Yes, I am.”
“And, I assume this is the child in question?”
“She is.”
“I’m the postmaster for this territory. And, I will not allow such exploitation of our services. I have formally instructed all of my staff to inform all receiving and distribution centers under my authority to reject all livestock and any other living creature…most particularly human beings…from being sent through the parcel system forthwith!”
The postmaster then stepped up to the child, angrily ripped the stamps off her coat, wadded the postage up tightly, tossed them into a nearby ashtray, and lit the crumbled stamps on fire. Abigail could only watch in disbelief and horror as the postage burned, erasing all hope of her getting to her grandfather’s house.
“Now, my dear, you’ll need to make alternative travel arrangements. Hopefully, for your sake, they’ll be legitimate this time! Good day to you both!”
Rory hugged Abby tight, attempting to comfort her as she cried in his arms. “Don’t worry, my little Colleen, I’ll find a way to get you to your grandpa’s house, even if I have to take you there meself!”
“But, what do we do now, Mister Rory? I can’t get back on the train after that mean ole man burned my stickers!”
Abigail was right. The postmaster purposely destroyed her only affordable means of getting to Christiansburg, which was still a couple of days’ travel, even by train. Rory took her aside to think without distraction and assess the situation. He spoke with the local postal manager, who kindly agreed to let them stay overnight in the train station in the conductor’s quarters.
The next morning, Rory woke early and quietly made his way out of the room, being careful not to wake the little girl. After speaking with a few employees, a fantastic idea came to him. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that it was the perfect solution. So, he furiously made his way back to the conductor’s quarters, where Abigail still soundly slept, and gently shook her awake.
“Miss Colleen. Miss Colleen.”
The first-grader stirred in the bunk, her eyes remaining closed as she turned over. Rory gently rubbed her forehead, coaxing her to wake up. Slowly, she woke, rubbing her eyes and stretching, trying to orientate herself to her unfamiliar surroundings.
“Good morning, Mister Rory.”
“Good morning, little lady!”
“Here, I managed to wrangle up some milk, biscuits, and fruit. Go ahead and dig in there, Colleen!”
Abigail dove right into the meal, enjoying the soft, warm biscuits, and the delicious fruit, washing it all down with big gulps of milk. As she ate, Rory explained his plan to get her to her grandfather’s house.
“I’m sorry about what the postmaster did. But, I’ve spoken with some folks around here and I think I’ve come up with a way to get you to your grandpa’s house. Better still, it’s free and what’s more, you might even earn some money!”
“That sounds exciting! What is it, Mister Rory?!”
“How would you like a job working with me?”
“I’d love it!”
Rory enthusiastically explained to Abigail that if he makes her a postal employee, she could officially travel by mail train to her destination. And, since her luggage still had valid stamps affixed to it, it could travel along with them. Basically, she would be delivering her own suitcase to her grandfather’s house as a genuine postal worker. After all, the FLSA or Fair Labor Standards Act wouldn’t become law until 1938. So, there weren’t any regulations against him hiring the youngster.
Abigail gave Rory a big hug, thanking him for his ingenuity. Once she finished her breakfast, they boarded the train, making their way to the mail car, and carefully putting her bag into a corner. They worked in tandem, arranging all the mail sacks and boxes neatly, organizing them by priority. By now, the juvenile was quite familiar with how it all worked, thanks to her friend. Next, he took her up to the driver’s booth.
“Hello, there!”
“Hello! And, who is this?”
“This here is Miss Abby! She’s our newest addition to the postal service?”
“Is that so?”
“Yep!”
“What’s your job, there Miss Abby?”
“I’m Mister Rory’s assistant! We just sorted all the mail bags and boxes in the post car!”
“That’s great!”
“Say, can she blow the whistle, maybe even take the controls for a moment?”
“Sure thing!”
The conductor obliged, letting Abigail pull the horn’s cord, blasting it twice as the train passed by snow-filled farmland. The locomotive engineer showed her the controls, letting her drive the train for a few miles down the track. It was one of the most invigorating experiences she’d had at such a young age and gave her some of the fondest memories she would ever treasure.
They rode mile after mile, mostly looking out a window in the employees’ dining car. After supper, they went over the train’s schedule, mapping out its route toward a city near Christiansburg, where her grandfather’s house was.
“It looks like this station, three more stops away. That should put you on your grandpa’s doorstep in just two days.”
“Only two more days? That’s wonderful, Mister Rory!”
“Okay, so, from what I can gather here, at the last stop, it’s a horse-drawn carriage that goes out to the countryside.”
“Wow! I can’t wait, I love horses!”
The next day was an uneventful one but they passed the time working out of the mail car and playing games to break up the monotony. Before she knew it, the train pulled into their last stop and they both disembarked, Rory carried her suitcase off the car and into the station. They checked into the local mail manager’s office, where they met the coachman, a stout and portly individual with a deep laugh and big smile.
“Name’s Joseph!”
“I’m Rory and this is Miss Abigail! She’s in charge of delivering this luggage here to a gentleman out in the country. We’re told you’re the one who is in charge of the reins!”
“That I am, good sir!”
“Would you mind if I tag along?”
“No, not at all. But, better bundle up, nice and warm. It’s brutally cold out there.”
Rory heeded his peer’s warning, opening up Abigail’s suitcase to retrieve the warmest clothes he could find.
“I’m not supposed to open my bag until I get to grandpa’s.”
“That may well be true. But, I think we can make an exception. Your mother wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or freeze to death.”
Rory and Abigail helped the coachman load up the mail carriage and then set out to make their deliveries. It was cold, frightfully cold. So cold, the little girl snuggled up next to her friend, her teeth chattering from the constant sting of the deeply chilled air and biting, bitter wind. Although her destination was only a few miles away, it felt like a lifetime before the wagon even got close to her grandfather’s property.
Just as they began to approach the long, winding road leading to her grandfather’s acreage, freezing rain started to fall. At first, it was a light drizzle, but quickly picked up and turned into a downpour.
“I’m sorry, I can’t take you any further. I’ve got to get this animal back to the stables as soon as possible. You’re welcome to come back with me, of course.”
“No, but thanks anyway, Joseph. I’ve made this little girl a promise and I’m going to follow through with it.”
“Good luck to you both!”
The coachman reluctantly turned the carriage around and headed back to the train station. Rory tried to cover Abigail as best he could, attempting to shield her from the icy conditions as the storm continued to worsen. It intensified as they struggled to walk in the slippery, sometimes sticky mud, barely making headway. The weather became so inclement that the two had to take temporary refuge in a small cave on the side of a big hill.
“We’ll wait out the storm in here…it should let up soon enough there, Colleen.”
“Okay. How much further is it?”
“By my calculation, no more than fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.”
Rory and Abigail waited and waited. After about an hour, the rain lightened up and the sun started to peek out of the clouds. After a little while, the sky cleared up completely, allowing the two to walk down the road.
When they arrived, Rory knocked on the door. Abigail’s grandfather opened it, delighted to see her. They hugged one another and Rory introduced himself. Then, bid them both goodbye and casually walked away. Abby couldn’t hold back her tears, crying as her friend left the farm.
More than a week passed – the longest Abigail had ever experienced – when a knock came at the door.
“Special delivery!” A voice proclaimed from the front porch.
“Grandpa, someone is at the door!”
“Really. Well, let’s see who’s here!”
When Abby’s grandfather flung the door open, she saw Rory standing on the porch, with her mother right by her friend’s side.
“Mommy!”
Abigail rushed to her mother’s arms, hugging her tightly.
“My darling girl!”
“I can’t believe you’re here!”
“Well, it’s all thanks to Mister Rory, Abby!”
“It is?”
“Yep! You see, I put in for a transfer, Colleen. There’s a new station being built right down the road and that’s where I’m working. Besides, it’s just too hot in Florida for an Irishman!”
“You moved all that way for us, for me?”
“Well, we have a saying in Ireland, ‘The road to a friend’s house is never long.’”
