The Typewriter Mailbox: Small Ways to Bring Joy to a Neighborhood

The Strong Towns team is meeting up this week for our staff retreat, so while we’re out, we wanted to share the articles written by the five finalists who applied for our Lifestyle Columnist position. Today’s piece is by Karla Theilen, whom we’ve hired for the position! Enjoy this sneak preview of her writing, and look forward to seeing more of it in 2022.

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(Source: Author.)

“Not all who wander are lost, some are just out looking for yard sales.”

That’s the message on the laminated sheet I slid behind the paper bail of the vintage typewriter mounted to the top of my mailbox. It’s Monday morning, the day the message gets changed. This one replaced last week’s quote by John Lennon: “Being honest might not get you a lot of friends, but it will always get you the right ones.”

The house that my husband and I moved into in May came with instructions. “You need to change the mailbox message every week, or people will get upset.” The homeowner, our good friend Tina, handed us a stack of laminated quotes, musings, and inspirations that were to be loaded into the typewriter mailbox each week. Tina was gracious enough to offer up her home as a rental while we navigate the real estate market looking for our own “forever home.” She is away working in Alaska for a few years, so it was a win-win situation, especially after we promised her we’d change the mailbox message weekly.

The typewriter mailbox was Tina’s creative dream that became a reality when she met Bob, a retired welder down the street who, conveniently enough, specializes in custom mailboxes. He might have raised an eyebrow when she initially shared her idea, but the end result is a beautiful work of art.

During the first few weeks in the neighborhood this spring, the mailbox was a great conduit for meeting people. Sometimes I would go out in the front yard and pretend to be digging up dandelions, waiting for someone to walk by and stop and read the message. This is how I met the woman who has a dog that looks just like Lassie, the pre-teen brothers on skateboards, the couple that pushes a shopping cart filled with their earthly possessions, and the runner who always jogs in place in front of the mailbox while he reads the message.

I would watch people walk, drive, and bike by, slowing down and turning their heads to read the message, and occasionally I would see someone take a picture with their phone. One day, my friend Willow, who lives in Idaho, sent me a screen shot of something that came across her Instagram feed: A photo of my mailbox here in Montana. “Just in case no one told you today: Good morning! You’re doing great! I believe in you! Nice butt!” Apparently the cheeky message had made someone’s day.

(Source: Unsplash.)

Later on in the summer, the foot traffic past the mailbox slowed, as poor air quality due to forest fire smoke kept people indoors. We are used to fire season in Western Montana, but this year it came too early and stayed too late. Daytime temperatures reached triple digits for weeks on end. The cool morning air brought little relief as it pushed the smoke deeper into the valley, smothering our town in a gray blanket that stung the eyes and made it hard to breathe comfortably outside. One particularly oppressive Monday morning, I rifled through the stack of mailbox messages looking for the right one: 

“You’re never fully dressed without a smile.” Nah.

“Every day I wake up and feel like I’ve won the lottery…and I didn’t even buy a ticket.” Nope.

“Life isn’t measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.” Definitely not.

Finally, I got on my computer and opened up a blank document and started typing. In 52-point font, I wrote the old adage: “This Too Shall Pass.” Then I remembered something a childhood friend used to say: “Tough times don’t last, but tough people do.” I typed that one up, too. (I should mention that the house also came with a laminating machine.)

Finding messages in unexpected places has always thrilled me. I love seeing poems written in chalk on the sidewalk, reading notes left in library books, or finding painted rocks in hidden spots. I often tape fortune cookie messages inside cupboard doors in my own house just for daily inspiration. There was a pet store in a town where I used to live that had a sandwich board sign out on the sidewalk, one of those white signs with black plastic letters that slide into grooves. The sign always bore a joke or a little snippet of wit, something silly and innocuous like, “Have you heard the one about the skunk? Never mind, it really stinks.” Knowing that the sign would change every so often gave me something to look forward to, and is actually what made me start buying dog food there. Even though the dog food was more expensive than it was in the big box pet store, it was worth every penny. Someone once said that you vote with your dollar. If that’s true, I guess vote for jokes.

When I consider the weekly mailbox message, I draw inspiration from the memory of the pet store and its sidewalk sign. Even though this is a temporary home, the practice has become as much a part of the weekly routine as taking out the trash. I take my role as keeper of the message seriously, and it is a tradition I will continue. Though it’s unlikely I will have a custom mailbox made with a vintage typewriter welded to the top, I know I will find my own unique way to bring a breath of fresh air to the neighborhood where we’ll eventually land. Changing the message reminds me that I can lift someone’s spirit with just a small gesture, and doing it every week keeps me accountable. I might not be solving the world’s problems by changing the mailbox message, but at least it’s a good place to start.

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