Airmail postal delivery was first used in 1918. In 1938, President Franklin Roosevelt’s postmaster put together a big celebration that is worthy of notice today. The flight pioneered by the post office led to the commercial flight system we have today.

The first scheduled airplane service for mail delivery began on May 15, 1918. The route was between Washington and New York. The plane had a scheduled stop near Philadelphia to re-fuel and pick up more mail. Sometimes the pilot switched planes as early airplanes weren’t that reliable.

In celebration of the twentieth anniversary of the advent of airmail, Postmaster General James Farley established National Airmail Week for May 15-21, 1938. The intention of the celebration was to promote the fact the U.S. Postal Service moved the mail reliably and with speed. See “Commercial Air Travel Spurred by Post Office.”

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Planning the Celebration

Postmasters were directed to bring to the attention of the public “the wonderful network of airlines operating day and night throughout the country, and the speed and economy with which letters and parcels may be dispatched over immense distances…”

Each post office encouraged the local citizens to participate in the week’s celebration by sending an airmail letter. In addition, each town was invited to create its own “cachet,” a commemorative design printed or stamped on the envelopes mailed that week. (Several styles of cachet are shown in the images to the right. Today these envelopes are prized by collectors.)

Special Events

Thursday, May 19, was the primary day of celebration. An effort was made in advance to provide air delivery to as many post offices as possible. In each town, postmasters asked for the help of volunteer pilots for that day. And if communities did not have landing fields, the postmaster consulted local experts on appropriate landing fields. All communities within a state submitted maps of their proposed landing strips for approval to the state’s department of aeronautics.

Each state made their own plans. In Nebraska, the state postal administrators divided the state into four districts. They specified a hub city in each quadrant. Working with sixty volunteer pilots, airmail letters were picked up from each of the smaller towns. They were then flown to the hub city in their district. From there, they were ready to go out on a transcontinental flight on the 19th.

The community in Packanack Lake, New Jersey, wanted a dramatic illustration of progress. The town arranged for a pony-express-style horseback rider to deliver a pouch of airmail letters to an airplane waiting at Paterson Airport. They publicized the fact that the horseback rider covered his two-mile trip in 25 minutes. The pilot then flew the 15-mile leg of the trip to Newark Airport in only seven minutes (New York Times, May 16, 1938).

Tribute to First Postal Night Flight

The first night mail flight for the post office was in a small single-seat plane that flew between North Platte, Nebraska, and Chicago, Illinois, on February 21, 1921. Because pilots needed guidance from the ground, bonfires were built as beacons along the plane’s planned route.

In 1938, the plan was to use ground fires to demonstrate the process but to employ a larger plane. The one used held 21 passengers and a crew of three. Bonfires served as guide lights along the way,

The demonstration reminded Americans of the challenges faced by these pioneer pilots.

Wings Across America: Essay Contest

The Postal Service also sponsored an essay contest for high school students. The essays were to be about “Wings Across America.” More than a hundred prizes, including about 50 airplane trips to Washington, D.C., Hollywood, California, or Miami, Florida, were to be awarded to the winners.

Skyhooking

As airmail service became more popular, the postal service worked on ways to expand its usage while keeping down transportation time.

“Skyhooking” was one of the innovative plans used for smaller towns that lacked air service. The local post office erected two tall posts. They stretched a rope between the posts, and an outgoing sack of mail was hung from the rope.

When a plane flew into the community to retrieve the mail, the pilot flew low enough to use a hook (connected to the tail) to grab the bag of mail. Clear weather and excellent flying skills were both needed for skyhooking.

As for the mail delivery to that town? The incoming mail was simply dropped out of the plane.

The specialist in the skyhooking field was All-American Airways Company. They made 23,000 mail pickups using the method starting in May of 1939.After a one-year trial, they got a contract to continue their service for ten years.

A Hat Tip to the Post Office

Today we give little thought to the items sent by mail. We’re often annoyed by the post office. But there are many reasons to look back and appreciate the gains in American life that were spearheaded by the U.S. Postal Service.

Today we send an e-mail, and if the address is invalid, the message bounces back. It’s annoying, but at least we know the information was not received. 

The Post Office established the Dead Letter Office to manage misdirected letters or those with insufficient—or no—postage. Among the most baffling letters were those with absolutely no address at all.  

But the postal service took great pride in locating recipients, so when a letter arrived at the Dead Letter Office the work began.

Staffing For The Dead Letter Office

While effort was made by the early post office to deliver the mail, the Dead Letter Office was not officially established until 1825. By that time, administrators observed that money and valuables were often among the items that needed re-routing. For that reason, the early staff members were retired clergymen. It was felt that they would be both diligent and honest.

When the Civil War occurred, the post office hired women to help with undeliverable mail. The administrators quickly saw that women were patient and very dedicated to puzzling out where a letter needed to go. As a result, their success rate was high.

Recipient or Sender?

Effort was made to identify the recipient, but if that person couldn’t be found, the search was on for the sender so the letter or package could be returned.

If the task was proving impossible, the employees were legally permitted to open the letter to sleuth out more clues. Then the letter was repackaged, and with luck, it was sent on its way to the correct destination.

Undeliverable Packages

Many packages end up in the Dead Letter Offices. One reporter noted that these packages contained everything from ivory miniatures and false teeth to wedding cakes, pistols and human skulls. Horned frogs and small alligators were often found having escaped their boxes. Since reptiles are not permitted to be mailed, the solution there was to take them to a nearby river to let them go.

Bu the late 19^th century, the only live things that could be mailed were “caged and wrapped” shipments of bees. But the reporter pointed out that these were not popular with postal workers. If the packages were damaged, the bees escaped and stung those who got in their way of finding freedom.

Unwrapped Packages

As much as $10,000 in cash (bills and coins) was often found floating loose in the mail. The money was to be turned in at the Treasury.

Newspaper wrappers often slipped off making the newspapers undeliverable. Much more unusual items also appeared unwrapped. A news story in the L’Anse Sentinel in northwest Michigan (January 5, 1895) described the mailing of a glass chimney lamp. The item was unwrapped, but the address was attached.

When the chimney glass arrived unbroken, it was clear that postal workers had gone above and beyond their job to deliver it.  The reporter wrote that in the same shipment there were other much sturdier items broken to pieces.

Amazing Routes

In 1885, the New York Times re-printed an item from Colorado’s Greeley Sun:  Reverend Alexander Reid received a letter that had been sent to him, but it took several months. Based on the markings on the envelope, Reid was able to trace where it had been.

The letter was mailed from Spencerport, New York, on March 7, 1885, addressed to Reverend Reid in “Spencer, Ind. Ter.”  It was soon discovered there was no such post office in Indian Territory [Oklahoma]. The letter was sent to the dead letter office in Washington where it was channeled to the “inquiry office” in St. Louis. 

On April 13, a clerk there struck out “Ter.” so the letter was directed to Spencer, Indiana.  The post office in Spencer knew of no Reverend Reid, so the letter was again returned to the dead letter office in D.C.  

At that point, the letter was opened. Inside was a clipping and a note that indicated it should go to Indian Territory so the line through “Ter.” was erased. The clerk addressed it to “Goodland, Ind. Ter.”

When the letter arrived in Goodland, the postal workers recalled that the reverend to whom it was addressed had moved to Colorado.  Postal rules at that time stated that the letter first needed to go back to Washington so the proper destination could be recorded. 

It was then sent to Greeley, Colorado, where the letter was properly received by Reverend Reid on June 2–three months after it was sent.  

Sometimes the post office staff was so proud of their work they attached a note requesting the envelope be returned to them after its final delivery. Since the envelope showed the the notations of where the letter had been, it was a fun curiosity. Some were put on display in the local post office. Others were preserved in albums.

Missing People

If the postal service could find places where letters could be delivered, some people reasoned they should be able to help locate missing people. One mother had not heard from her son in 13 years. Using the post office, she addressed a letter to:

“Mr. James Gunn, Power-Loom Shuttle Maker, Massachusetts, America.”

Her son was found living at 4 Barrington Street in Lowell, Massachusetts. After that, mother and son never lost touch.

The Blind Reader

In the late 19^th century, a woman named Patti Lyle Collins (ca. 1945-1913) became head of the Dead Letter Office. She was nicknamed the “Blind Reader,” although her vision was clearly just fine. The nickname was to honor her for her ability to puzzle through difficult-to-decipher addresses.

In 1908, The Saturday Evening Post described her as “unquestionably the most highly skilled expert living.” Her knowledge of the United States and so many other things was vast. One letter was directed to a particular person but the only address given was “Island.” Collins immediately suggested that the letter be sent to West Virginia. There was a portion of the state that was known as “The Island.”

In another case, a letter was addressed to a man on President Street. Collins’s job was simplified because she knew there was only one street in the United States that was called President Street. It was located in Baltimore. Again, the proper recipient was found.

Magazine Readers Loved Her Stories

Patti Collins was often asked to contribute articles to magazines. Readers loved reading about the postal victories as well as defeats. Collins noted that 32,000 letters are sent each year with no address at all.

In a Ladies Home Journal article written by Collins (September 1899), she presented a list of the hopeful way in which Americans addressed some of the letters. One mother wrote to her son. The address given on the envelope was: “To my Son he lives out West he drives a red ox the rale rode goes by Thar.”

Without the internet and sometimes without easy access to a library, people also hoped the postal service would help them out in other ways. Collins writes that letters were frequently addressed to specific cities where people hoped certain experts could be located:

“Kindly address to largest dealer of old medical books;” [Boston, for example]

“To reliable dealer in old and rare coins;”

“To any Fur Dealer;”

“To Editor of the Best Paper;”

“To Hand Laundry Outfitters;”

“To any dealer in leaf tobacco.”

Collins also examined many of the letters that were sent without addresses. She reported that many of them were from businessmen. Her guess was that they were busy, got interrupted, and before the letter was addressed by the secretary, an office boy wandered through thinking that the letters were ready to go.

The Dedication Is Still There

And I’m here to testify that postal workers have maintained the same can-do spirit of 100 years ago.  In the 1980s I ran a small mail order business from my apartment in New York City. On more than one occasion, there appeared in my mail box an envelope with nothing more than my company’s name, and “New York, NY 10024.”

And one more postscript: On a recent Saturday, I waited in the lobby of an apartment building where I was to meet my daughter.  The postal worker came out from the mail room with several letters to review with the doorman.  They discussed where the former residents had moved. If the building was on the postal worker’s route, he was going to drop it off, even though the person’s forwarding order had expired.  Impressive. 

To read about how the 6888th Central Postal Battalion sorted and delivered the mail during World War II, click here. Morale went up when the soldiers got their mail.

You might also want to visit the Smithsonian National Postal Museum online or in Washington, D.C.

• First African American woman employed to carry the U.S. mail,
• For ten years, she carried the mail through challenging terrain in Montana.
• Fields was a survivor. Over the course of her life, she worked the cotton fields during slavery, and went on to be a groundskeeper, a child-minder, and the owner of a laundromat in addition to her work for the postal service.

Mary Fields (1832-1914) was born into slavery in Hickman County, Tennessee, in about 1832. She received her freedom when the war ended and slavery was outlawed. However, she continued to live near her original owners, the Dunn family. She and the Dunns’s daughter, Dolly, became good friends.

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Growing Up

Dolly Dunn chose to devote herself to hte church and became a nun. She moved to Toledo, Ohio, and Mary Fields went along with her, feeling she would find something to do. Dolly eventually became known as Mother Amadeus. She was offered a position at a mission school for Native American girls in Cascade, Montana. It was about 25 miles southwest of Great Falls.

In 1885, Mother Amadeus became quite ill and asked that Mary be summoned from Ohio.  Mother Amadeus had pneumonia and she wanted the comfort of her childhood companion.

Arriving in Montana

Mary Fields was well-suited for the West.  She was 6 feet tall and weighed about 200 pounds. In addition to her size, her clothing was right for the rugged life of Montana. She wore trousers under her skirt to keep warm. An apron covered her skirt but was often used to hide her gun, which she was not afraid to use.

Despite her propensity for alcohol and cigars, Mary Fields was a valued member of the staff. She also was not afraid to speak her mind. After she was involved in a brawl in town over a harness, the bishop ordered Mother Amadeus to fire her.

Star Route for the Postal Service

Shortly after this, the U.S. Postal Service was looking for someone who could handle the Star Route in central Montana. (In the West, the Postal Service still accepted bids for mail routes through lightly populated areas. This particular route was from St. Peter’s Mission where Mary Fields had worked to the town of Cascade. It was only 34 miles round trip, but between the dirt roads, the fierce winter storms, and the threat of wolves coming down from the mountains, it was a treacherous job. .

Mary was hired for the job in 1895. (She would have been in her early sixties.) Fields became a frequent sight, driving six horses and wagon, along with her mule Moses, on the central Montana mail route.  The weather never stopped her, though if the snow was too deep, she wore snowshoes and delivered the mail on foot. 

Historian Roger D. Hardaway relates an anecdote where Fields was caught in a blizzard that obscured the road….”She had to stop the wagon and walk back and forth all night to keep from freezing to death.” He also found a report when wolves surrounded her wagon, threatening an attack on her supplies. She kept them away.

Her personality and integrity earned her the name Stagecoach Mary.

Wanted a Change

After more than eight years of delivering the mail, Mary decided it was time to retire. She built her home in Cascade and opened a laundry. Mary Fields often ended her day with a drink and a cigar at the local saloon with the men of the community. She earned respect from them for her business savvy.

One day a fellow who had not paid is laundry bill came into the saloon. Mary saw him, and she stepped up behind him and knocked the man down. She then put her foot on his chest and wouldn’t let him up until he agreed to pay the bill. After that, customers made sure their laundry bill was paid up.

Mary Fields became a beloved part of the town. Sometimes she made herself available to help local mothers with their children. She loved baseball and before each town game, she  presented the players with buttonhole bouquets from her garden.

Everyone knew Mary. When cowboy artist Charles Russell (1864-1926) moved to Cascade, Montana, for a time, he sketched what he most enjoyed about the town. In his illustration, he teased Mary, drawing her by a basket of spilled apples. The sketch indicates she was knocked down by a hog running through town.

The town adored her. They declared her birthday to be a town holiday and closed the school on that day.

In 1914, Stagecoach Mary died of liver failure.  The whole town attended her funeral.

In the 1880s in San Bernardino county–just northeast of Los Angeles–the town of Calico, California, had an unusual mail carrier—a dog.

Jim Stacy worked as postmaster in Calico and his brother Alwin ran a general store near the Bismarck mines, about a mile and half from Calico.

At some point, Jim Stacy acquired a dog named Dorsey. Dorsey has been identified as a Border Collie, an  English Shepherd and a Scotch Collie, but more likely was some mixture of any of the above.  The story goes that one day Jim wanted to get a message to Alwin but didn’t want to make the trip himself.  He decided to experiment by tying letter around Dorsey’s neck; he took the dog out and pointed him toward the other town, saying “Bismarck!”

Dorsey hesitated at first but with added encouragement he started on his trip. Dorsey was not seen around Calico the rest of the day but the next day he appeared with a response from Alwin.

The idea of Dorsey carrying a letter or two back and forth soon caught on with the miners who loved the Dog Delivery System. At first, Dorsey was sent off with a single letter or two, but then one of the Stacy  brothers came up with a way to create a wearable mail pouch for the dog.  Soon Dorsey’s route became a regular thing.  The miners reported that Dorsey stopped at one or two of their houses where he was petted and likely fed, but he concluded his trip by stopping off at the store where the pouch was unloaded and reloaded with outgoing messages.

From 1883-1886 Dorsey regularly carried the U.S. mail. The assignment ended only because the mine closed and many of the miners moved away.  When the Stacy brothers moved to a new community it was said that they gave Dorsey to San Francisco financier John S. Doe, who owned an interest in the mine.

The story of Dorsey was given added life when country western singer Kenny Rogers recorded an album called “The Ballad of Calico” in 1972.  One of the songs was called “Dorsey, the Mail Carrying Dog.”

For another story about a dog who made his home at a post office, see Owney, the Post Office Dog.

One hundred years ago in Redlands, California, there were no mail trucks or mail cars…just a mail horse.

Mail carrier Ernest L. Danielson (now deceased) was beginning his route, and no other worker had time to explain to him what the route actually was.

They assigned him his horse and wagon, already loaded with mail, and just said, “Follow the horse.”

It worked.  The horse was on “auto pilot” and not only led Danielson along the correct route, but the horse stopped and waited a reasonable time while Danielson took the mail to the box.  However, there was a problem: One package was insured and required a signature.  While Danielson took the package to the door and nervously awaited a response to his knock, the horse went on about the route, and quite a bit later, Danielson finally caught up with the horse and the U.S. mail.

For more stories of the U.S. mail, see “The Celebration of Airmail Week” or “Little-Known Facts about the Pony Express.”