Save 81138

Normally I don't refer to people, places, or things by their numbers.  I detest the reference of people by their birth date or social security number.  Oh sure, like the majority of the population I've come to some sort of...shall we say acceptance...of the requirement of numbers instead of names.  I have my social memorized and I definitely have my birth date remembered - though there are times I forget it as I get older.  I have APHA and AQHA number identified horses - not memorized by the way but still there for identification purposes.  However, I've never felt comfortable with the use of a number as an identification.  I've always felt it cold, callus, and impersonal. A name will always carry with it more power than any number...so I thought.

Today, I realized just how important 81138 is to me and not just to me but to others who have relied on the number since the number was assigned.  In fact, I realized that if no other number meant anything, this one was - as someone classified it - a cornerstone to my very existence.

"It will fade and eventually become nonexistent," a voice to my  left said and I felt the breath leave my chest, my heart clench, and my throat tighten.  The words were spoken at a town meeting, a meeting in which we discussed the possible closure of our rural post office.

81138 is the zip code for my home town - Jaroso, Colorado.  It's a small town but no less rich in history than the bigger ones whose postal codes are not -yet- in danger of fading into nonexistence.   

Over the years we've watched as smaller post offices - like lambs to the slaughter - surrendered their codes and fell into the categorization of the larger towns closest to them.  We've watched as not only their postal code was absorbed so was their very existence.  Oh sure...you can still get a letter to individuals and businesses from these towns but it's not their home town, it's not their post office that places it in their box.  There is no longer the personal contact between a friendly face and the letter.  It is a dreary site to see, those lonely stands holding boxes that may or may not have the letters hoped for.  It's as dreary a site as the dust blown pictures of abandoned towns having lost their identities in the Great Depression.

Speaking of the Great Depression 81138 was around then and even before this countryside knew the possibility of such a devastating era.  It wasn't classified yet as 81138.  That form of government identification came along sometime around 1967 when the cartoon character Mr. Zip made his advertising debut in the USPS.  Mail came during the Great Depression and before, the better years too by train.  From there it was delivered to the Jaroso post office and delivered in person when patrons visited the - even then - centrally located building. It was then, as it is now, the hub of our rural community.

81138, the town I refer to as Jaroso, survived not only the Great Depression but the drought that hit this valley hard in the mid 50's.  It's one most often referred to in the drought ridden days we've seen of late.  It was then the train no longer followed the laid track to Jaroso. No longer was mail delivered via that route.  The post office was a corner section of the Anderson home and mail was delivered by truck.  Later, the boxes were moved into a corner of the Anderson store building, a building that housed a restaurant and store as well.  Rural patrons could come for their groceries, mail, and a meal without having to make more than one stop when they came into town.

Jaroso has survived wars, rumors of wars, depression and recession.  It's had its day, it's lost its way, and found it once again through the determined hearts of those remaining - decedents of the first generation who needed not the 81138 for use of hometown identification and those newcomers who've discovered her jewels and pushed her to thrive by laying down their roots and spreading their wings, drawing others into the community with them.

A town such as this, such as Jaroso - identified as postal code 81138 - should not have lived and fought for so long, remained alive despite nature and politics, rose like the Phoenix from the ashes of every force which struck both community and country should not simply fade into nonexistence.  Such an action can hardly be considered noble.  81138 deserves much better than that. 

We see too much of our culture swallowed piece by piece, more and more of our individuality removed...nay, stripped from us until we know not who we are or were.  The culture I speak of is that of home and heart and home is where the heart is.  Home is our community and the heart of every community is the building that has the zip code on the outside wall.  It is the hub of an area, it is the cornerstone of a community.  It is the one place where we can honestly believe the United States of America claims us - gave us that identification tag and therefore acknowledges our existence.  Without that zip code, that 81138, we are merely a suburb of some distant town that can't honestly even claim to know we're here.

We CANNOT allow that to happen.  We CANNOT simply fade.  We CANNOT be forgotten.  

So with all my heart I declare "SAVE 81138!"  Save my home town, save my roots and the roots of others whose lives have stretched to the sky and blossomed here.