POSTAL TALES

Along with renowned artist Christian Moeller, I co-directed and co-created the docu-series, Postal Tales, a portrait of America weaved together through stories told by Letter Carriers from the United States Postal Service. In each episode, we follow a Postal Worker who tells a unique tale from their experience delivering mail. Their routes span the entire United States and serve every type of community, bridging gaps between various ethinicities, economic status, and political views. Each video portrait is set to carefully chosen pieces of traditional and contemporary American Folk music thanks to the Smithsonian Museum’s Folkways Records. 

Partners:
- United States Postal Service
- USPS Union of Letter Carriers
- Smithsonian Museum
- Folkways Records

Here is a preview of one of the stories from Postal Tales

Story #52: “My Grandmother
_{Alex Criego Retired Letter Carrier HBR & MDA Representative Branch 84, Pittsburgh, PA
^{(visit postaltales.org to read more stories)}}

^“I started my Postal career in the early 1980's. I made regula and had my own route. I stayed on this route for over 23 years of the last 31 years of my career. I watched children grow up, graduate, get married, and pursue their ambitions in life. I eventually became close with many of my customers. Dora was the elderly lady that depended on me the most. I fixed some items that needed repair in her home, took her shopping on occasion, drove her to her doctor's’ appointments, you name it I did it. At the end of the route I would have lunch with her. We would watch a game show or food channel on television. She would entertain me with the stories of her aches and pains and how she missed her son. He had moved to Arizona. She became ill on several occasions which required hospitalization. I would always visit her at least once or twice while she was hospitalized. You see she only had me and her next door neighbor who took care of her. Dora was eighty plus years young. Once visiting her while she was hospitalized I entering her room. She as the only person in the room at this time. One bed of the two bed room was empty. While I was entering a male nurse was exiting the room at the same time. He stopped me to make an inquiry of whom I was visiting. I told him I was visiting my Grandmother. His eyes showed confusion. He took a step back and was about to engage me in a further conversation. He was sure I was at the wrong room. I walked past him and entered the room as he watched. I walked to the bed and placed a kiss on her cheek and asked how they were treating her. The nurse stood there in awe as I sat next to her. You see the person I called my ‘grandmother’ was an eighty-five plus year caucasian woman, and I am a black male. We laughed numerous times about that day. She has left this earth now (as we always say for a better place), but she will always be in my heart and will always be my “Grandmother._”