Richmond Main Post Office

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, a delivery driver grumbled under his breath as he parked near the Richmond Main Post Office. ‘Why does it always rain when I’m here?’ He looked up and noticed an old man standing outside the entrance, umbrella in hand, muttering something about never seeing such peculiar weather. The old man glanced up, smiled and said, 'It’s not raining, my friend—it’s sprinkling.' The delivery driver scratched his head, shook his head, then laughed. They chatted for a moment before the old fellow wished him luck with his day and disappeared inside. That afternoon, back at the depot, everyone asked why he was smiling so broadly. With a twinkle in his eye, he replied, 'Because sometimes, just like today, even the mailman gets lucky!'

2. A small boy, no older than five, walked into the mailroom one afternoon and pointed excitedly at an envelope. ‘Mommy,’ he said, ‘look what I found here!’ The postal worker picked up the envelope curiously. 'Oh,' she smiled, 'that's just a letter for Mrs. Johnson next door.' The little boy beamed proudly. 'Really?' he asked, 'can I give it to her?' 'Of course you can!' replied the woman, handing him the envelope. A few minutes later, Mrs. Johnson received not only her letter but also a heartfelt apology from her young neighbor for thinking it was hers—complete with a drawing of a smiling pony on the back.'

3. Late one night, a postal worker heard an eerie humming coming from the old mail sorting machine. As she approached, the sound grew louder, almost like a distant choir singing in harmony. Curious, she peered inside and saw only shadows dancing on the wall. Suddenly, an envelope slipped out and landed at her feet with a soft thud. Startled, she picked it up—it was addressed to ‘The Next Person Who Opens This.’ Turning around, she found herself facing a smiling delivery driver who said, “Guess someone forgot to put their address!”

4. In the early hours of every Tuesday morning, a mysterious voice crackled over the intercom in Richmond’s Main Post Office. ‘Packages for Mr. Nobody,’ it would say, followed by a soft chuckle that seemed to come from nowhere. One day, an exhausted delivery driver arrived late on a Tuesday and heard the familiar voice. ‘Packages for Mr. Nobody,’ it said, but then added with a twinkle, ‘and one special package for you.’ The driver looked around, confused, until he realized everyone was laughing—including his own reflection in the mirror behind him. From that day on, whenever anyone asked why he always wore a smile, he’d just wink and reply, ‘Because I’m delivering packages meant for nobody… except me!’