Federal Station Anaheim Post Office

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, while sorting letters, a postal worker noticed something strange coming from the old ventilation shaft above the counter. It sounded like someone was humming an old hymn, but no one else seemed to hear it. Curious, she climbed up the ladder and peered inside. All she found was a pigeon singing its heart out. The next day, everyone brought their coffee and donuts for ‘the singing bird.’ It turned into a quirky tradition until someone finally cleared out the nest—and silence fell again.

2. One day, while delivering mail, a delivery driver heard an unusual announcement over the PA system: ‘Attention please! The mailbox on Maple Street is now accepting packages only in blue envelopes.’ Curious neighbors started checking their mailboxes and soon discovered that indeed, only letters and parcels delivered in blue envelopes were being accepted. Soon enough, word spread across town, and people began decorating their mailboxes with bright blue ribbons just to be safe. One old lady even painted her entire mailbox royal blue, much to the amusement of everyone passing by. Eventually, after weeks of confusion, the postal service quietly announced that it was all a technical glitch—no one had actually been listening to those mysterious announcements.

3. In the early hours of the morning, a delivery driver approached the Federal Station Anaheim Post Office. As he parked his truck, he swore he heard faint whispers coming from inside the building. Curious, he peered through the window and saw only empty counters and mailboxes. Just as he was about to dismiss it, he thought he recognized a familiar voice. ‘Hey, Joe,’ whispered a deep baritone. ‘Did you bring those stamps?’ Turning around, he found himself face-to-face with a grinning postal worker who had retired five years ago. The delivery driver shook his head, laughing. ‘Guess some retirees never really leave.’

4. In the late afternoon, a delivery driver pulled up to the Federal Station. As he unloaded boxes, he noticed something peculiar: every time he opened the door, a faint whiff of freshly baked cookies wafted out. Curious, he followed the scent inside and found an old lady smiling from behind the counter. ‘Freshly baked,’ she said, handing him a warm cookie. The delivery driver shook his head with a smile, thinking it was just another quirky thing about small-town life.