Martin Luther King Junior Branch Post Office

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. Late one night, as an exhausted delivery driver pulled into the Martin Luther King Jr. branch post office parking lot, he heard it—a soft, rhythmic tapping sound coming from inside the building. Curious but cautious, he peered through the window and saw nothing unusual. Yet every morning after that, the same strange noise would greet him before sunrise. Finally, one day a friendly neighbor walked in and asked if everything was okay. Turns out, his cat had taken a liking to the postal shelves and was using them for its evening acrobatics! Since then, the delivery driver brings treats for the feline visitor.

2. Late one night, as an exhausted delivery driver pulled into the Martin Luther King Junior Branch Post Office, a gruff voice called from inside: ‘Hey there, mailman! Better check your package—looks like someone’s been leaving mysterious letters here!’ As he opened it, a stack of envelopes fluttered out—each addressed to him personally, with messages like ‘You’re doing great!’ and ‘Keep up the good work!’ Turns out, a neighbor had been dropping them off anonymously for months. The delivery driver smiled, realizing that sometimes the best mail isn’t even in an envelope.

3. Late one night, as a delivery driver pulled up to the Martin Luther King Jr Branch Post Office, he noticed something odd: the neon sign kept flashing ‘Closed’—but the door was wide open. Curious, the driver stepped inside and found no one around. Just then, an elderly gentleman emerged from behind a stack of mailboxes, smiling warmly. ‘I’m just checking on things,’ he said. ‘Post office’s closed for the night, but I live next door and like to make sure everything’s okay.’ The delivery driver relaxed, relieved it wasn’t some mysterious incident after all.

4. Late one night, as a delivery driver pulled up to the Martin Luther King Junior Branch Post Office, he noticed something strange: every time he left his truck running for just a moment, someone would whisper his package’s address from inside. Finally, curiosity got the better of him. He quietly approached the door and peered inside—only to see an old man in a fedora reading a map and muttering addresses under his breath. The delivery driver smiled, waved, and said, ‘Good evening, neighbor!’