About

Mailboxes

No matter how far or fast we dive into the information age, we will always have regular mail. Though, we may all be carrying around PDA’s, cell phones or whatever the new combination communication gadget that has been recently invented, we still greatly rely upon the mail or as it is affectionately has become to be known as, “snail mail”. Even with our mailboxes overflowing with junk mail, bills and tax forms, there is still the occasion that we get something that makes us feel good when we go through the pile. A birthday card, a magazine, or pictures from a family event, these hard, tangible documents are coveted. Though most of us get our mail slipped through a slot in the front door of our homes, actual mailboxes still exist. Out there, in the rural countryside, along country roads and the byways of America.

Lately, as I have come to live in rural western New York State for the past year and traveling around these country roads, I have been noticing mailboxes along the roadside. Though, most are your standard USPO approved tunnel shaped designs or the ugly green plastic molded Rubbermaid models, there are still a few mailboxes out there that have caught my eye. Whether because of their designs, creative variations or craftsmanship, these assemblages have made me stop by the side of the road and take a picture of them. Its been something to ponder while driving to reflect if they are a piece of sculptural art, sitting on top of a pedestal (their wooden post) or a form of idiosyncratic expression, fashioned for the whole world to witness.

Are these creations a utilitarian object or some form of folk art? They are certainly indigenous to a particular region, that being the rural countryside. And they present some type of decorative skills by their makers. Somehow they offer a carryover of a type of object that could be considered from colonial times in that they combine a sense of charm and practical craftsmanship. Intrinsically what I see in them is a naive sense of design and an outgoing desire to create an object that expresses individualism and creativity.

What I enjoy most in accumulating these images is the hunt. It starts by looking at a map, one that shows the small county routes and back-roads. I know I will have to stray far off the beaten path for these adventures. I give myself a destination for the day, find the main highway to get there and then backtrack to determine what would be the most circuitous route to take. With these mailboxes located in rural enclaves, I look for the smallest town as a starting point, but understand that the mailboxes are not located in these towns, since townies get mail deliveries to their front door, but rather on the outskirts of these hamlets. Farmhouse, country cottages, bungalows are my jackpots. Urban sprawl and townhouse developments I deplore. County roads, rural highways and seasonal dirt trails are the paths I seek. If I’m on a road that has a sign posted for 55 miles per hour, it’s too big and I’m going to fast. 30-40 MPH is tops for me. It’s what’s required to stumble upon these gems. Note: I’ve noticed that by slowing down your car speed, it also allows you to slow down your life speed.

I start the day by picking a final destination and using a highlight maker to give me an approximate route. No mapquest.com here. They only present the fastest way to get someplace and surely keep you on the highway as much as possible. I’ve learned to keep one eye on the road and one eye on the side of road, while all the time watching out for road kill. And you definitely require a pickup truck to do this. An important criteria is that you need to fit into your environment to stalk these feral mailboxes in their natural habitat. Interestingly, these unique mailboxes tend to associate in clusters. Maybe it’s a keeping up with the Jones type of thing, but if I see one, there’s a good chance around the next bend of the road will be another. Recently, I’ve been noticing trends in my discoveries. Mostly with the newer installations have appeared contemporary categories. Whereas, the older mailboxes tend to be grouped in such areas as farm equipment and farm animals, newer themes have emerged in what could be classified as patriotic and NASCAR topics. Sometimes combinations occur, like a racecar with an American flag hanging off the side.

The main thing to remember is that getting lost is not a bad thing. When you get to an intersection in the middle of nowhere, it’s only an opportunity to find another mailbox.

The whole mailbox phenomena began with the experiment of “rural free delivery service”, R.F.D. on October 1, 1896 and later as an official service in 1902. Citizens and farmers alike looked around their homes and barns for containers to be stuck on a post by the side of the road. By 1901 the Post Office having heard complaints from delivery people of unsuitable mailboxes being used, appointed a five-person task force to examine mailbox designs. 63 variations were submitted by manufacturers for consideration, with only 14 meeting criteria of design specifications. If a patron wanted R.F.D. they would now be required to have a box from the selected list of manufacturers. The companies on that first list included the Postal Improvement Company of Norristown, Pennsylvania, Bates-Hawley of Joliet, Illinois, A.L. Henry, American Metal Company of Ladoga, Indiana, Century Post Company and Bond Steel Post Company, both of Adrian, Michigan, the Century Rural Mail Box Company of Detroit, Michigan and the Corbin Cabinet Lock Company of New Britain, Connecticut. Within a sort time the USPO realized they had created a monopoly of manufacturers and by 1903, 46 different companies were manufacturing rural mailboxes, as per specifications. As they were back in 1903 and still today, all mailboxes are marked “Approved by the Postmaster General”. A final requirement was that the mailbox be installed “buggy high”. In 1915, a USPO engineer, Roy Joroleman, designed the now familiar tunnel shaped mailbox with the signal flag on the side. To encourage widespread acceptance and availability, Joroleman’s design was not patented, nor were restrictions set upon the box’s manufacturer or sale.