I was paged to the front desk here at the Times Citizen last week. For years I sat within shouting distance of the front desk so I had a head up if someone was, you know, actually shouting at the front desk. Now I’m upstairs and it any time I get that call I regard it as pretty much a coin toss as to what I’ll be greeted with.
In this case, however, when Jess Peters paged me she shared a name with which I was not familiar: Kirk Lyman. He greeted me with a big smile and firm handshake and introduced himself as my mail carrier, cutting to the chase: the previous day was garbage day, bitterly cold, and my garbage can had tumbled off the snow bank on our curb in front of the mailbox. Kirk had tried to nudge it with his mail truck but it caught on some ice and cracked.