It's a hectic time of year, especially for the United States Postal Service, as I had written in a previous column. During the weekend, I experienced another example of the mailing frenzy that the holidays have a way of creating.

I walked out the front door Friday morning to get the mail, and found a copy of USA Today among a stack of letters, Christmas cards, and of course, bills. I thought that the newspaper must have been sampling area residents in hopes of garnering new subscribers.

Upon bringing the mail into the house, and getting ready to take a quick glance through USA Today, I noticed that it was supposed to have been delivered to Dr. Francisco Yao, who lives a few streets away but shares the same house number.

When driving to The Herald, I pulled in front of his house, rang the doorbell, and soon enough, the doctor opened the door as I was waiting to deliver his newspaper (felt like my days many years ago as a Herald carrier).

The congenial doctor said it wasn’t necessary for me to have dropped it off, but thanked me nonetheless as I returned to my car and headed for Dock Street. It made me feel good that such a small deed was so appreciated.

On Saturday morning, I was sitting at my computer in the family room, grading my finals that I had given at Thiel College earlier in the week, when I heard my front bell chiming away. When I peeked out the door, whom did I see standing with a magazine in his hands but none other than Dr. Yao.

As it turns out, the magazine had been delivered to his house, and within 24 hours, he was graciously returning the favor. We laughed after I thanked him, wished him a Merry Christmas, and headed back into the house. My next move should have been to play our house number at one of the Pennsylvania Lottery outlets.

I checked Sunday night, and as of yet, it hadn’t hit. I figured that they were giving me a grace period, and kindly waited until I went and played the daily number first thing this morning.

This whole idea of “playing the number” brought back memories of my youth back in the 1950s and 1960s. Had this switch of mail at the same house number happened to my grandfather, he couldn't play the daily number at the local news agency (it was still a few years before the state would assume operations to make it legal gambling).

But it wouldn’t have stopped him from betting on such a sure sign. He slyly would have called one of our elderly neighbors (yes, she was a bookie) and placed his bet, and waited with great anticipation to find out if the number had hit. Somehow, on the heels of a successful wager, the money always seemed to anonymously find its way into the winner’s hands.

It might be easier today at one of the local lottery outlets, but it lacks the secrecy and mystery of illegally playing the daily bug number of many years ago.

Lotteries and numbers aside, we will soon be into the teeth of winter, and a tough time of year for folks who earn a living outdoors, such as postal carriers, newspaper carriers, refuse collectors, municipal street crews and utility employees. Give them a break and a few kind words, they deserve it.

Winter arrives in the area

We got our real first taste of winter during the weekend, but it was nothing compared to other parts of the Eastern Seaboard, which were buried by up to two feet of snow in some parts. Wouldn’t you know it, Mother Nature arrived right on cue for family and friends heading home on the open road for the holidays.

Brad and Carlee Baker, family members who live in Charlotte, N.C., packed up their vehicle and headed north on Friday afternoon for the usual 8-9 hour trip to Sharon with their two very young children and the family dog.

The blinding storm turned the trip into a 30-hour marathon, which included hours at a standstill on the highway, and eventually, a night in the lobby of a Virginia motor lodge because of a restriction on pets (so much for making an exception to the rule for extenuating circumstances).

But they got home safely, which in the end, is all that really matters.



Jim Raykie is the editor of The Herald and his column appears every Monday. His e-mail is jraykie@sharonherald.com