‘WHAT COMES IN TODAY GOES OUT TODAY'

1. Morning

Sam McKinnon, a tall, handsome guy with a cleanhead haircut, is the first one into the mailroom in the southernmost first floor reaches of Whitehead Campus Center, in the middle of the first July heatwave. He switches on WDAS radio to chase the a.m. blues away, says hi to Calvin Riley, the Mail Center manager, and Fred Howard, his co-worker, who've both come in, then unlocks the back doors and warms up one of two big red Union City Body Company delivery trucks parked in the working bay. First order of business is to hit the Haverford Post Office, opposite the College entrance on Lancaster Avenue, and trundle home all the incoming packages, boxes, and flats that have accumulated since yesterday. He does this with one or two huge orange hampers, depending on volume (Mondays and holidays like Christmas and Valentine's Day, and school openings in late August and September, are the heaviest). Sam is quiet, efficient, friendly in a low-key, let's-get-this-job-done rhythm, smiling carefully, like the actor, Omar Epps...

The tricky thing about the morning P.O. run is that Route 30 traffic never really slacks off until 8 p.m. or so, so you've got to force the big Union truck into the car stream, coming out of Haverford gate, plowing west and overshooting the mark a little, the alley between the Tinder Box (Since 1928!) cigar store and the alley abutting the post office. To do that you're actually breaking left into the curb lane, and then backing up against the oncoming tide of metal, Lancaster being a two-lane asphalt. Especially in the morning, contending with other delivery vehicles, school buses, and late-for-work drivers, things can get hairy. Then you've got to cock your wheel right and back smoothly up to the loading doors—or at least without scraping walls or red, white, and blue post office trucks, which are invariably lined up in the eastern half of the alley, closest to the P.O. itself...“Nah, I never had no problems,” Sam says reassuringly.“ Most people will stop for a red truck.”

Although U.S. Mail does send Haverford delivery trucks onto campus, it doesn't do so when Haverford needs them—first thing. Thus, the daily runs.

When Sam gets the load back to the mailroom, the next job is to sort out big packages and boxes from flats (light cardboard and heavy paper envelopes) and letters. Today Fred Howard, a smooth part-time musician, is working the computer log-ins, and three others are also on the job—Darryl Mackey, Joe Jones, and John Wells. Darryl, a 17-year veteran, is a high-spirited extrovert who keeps everyone's spirits maxed, and drives the other red truck for campus pick-ups and deliveries; John Wells was with the U.S. Post Office in Philly for 30 years, before signing on part-time (11 a.m. to 2 p.m.) with Haverford 12 years ago; for a large part of his 47 years' service, Joe Jones did an earlier version of Calvin Riley's job, and historically is responsible for organizing the mail-sorting system alphabetically, and according to classifications—students, faculty, staff. He works from 1 to 4 p.m., now. All the guys but Calvin, Joe, and John switch-up on jobs, rolling as a team, both to spell each other on the harder stuff, like the post office run, with its wrestling of big hampers, and to break the dirty monotony...

After mail and UPS and other services' packages have been sorted on a gray table just inside the mailroom door, they are stacked in groups, loaded on the truck, and delivered to—this morning—Ryan Gym, Sharpless Hall in the Koshland Integrated Natural Sciences Center, Hilles Hall, in the same place, Magill Library, Stokes Hall, and the Facilities Management Complex. Sam exchanges jokes with Bonnie McAllister at the Gardner Integrated Athletic Center, and with two guards in the Safety and Security Dept., also handsomely ensconced in the GIAC...“Hot? This isn't hot! Wait till August...We'll be headin' for the showers!” Later, wheeling the big red Union (which has automatic transmission—“Nooo, I don't shift gears, man!”), he says he likes the interplay with so many people the mail service affords, and the fact that you're pretty much your own boss:“Couldn't be sittin' in front of one those computers all day. It's bad for your posture.” As we check out the slant board, steppers, and running machines in the GIAC, he winks at me meaningfully.

2. Afternoon

Darryl Mackey handles the afternoon run in an entirely different mode—“It's The Darryl Hour, people!” he hollers, busting into song and practically sliding across the floor in the reception offices of the Facilities Management Complex, near the South Parking Lot:“Yo, Carol [Kane]. What you been doin'? How you feelin'? I got my man here from the E-News Web site, writin' about ol' Darryl! You got to give him a real assessment! Am I good? Do I bring cheer into your days, if you feelin' off? What about Darryl Power? Do I bring it? Do I make you feel better???”

“Darryl is so modest,” laughs Carol, slipping a printout into a manila folder.“And handsome, too! Don't forget D's looks!” Darryl hollers.“I got the whole package, ladies! When Darryl comes by, the ladies be perkin'! Like coffee pots!!”

Carol Kane and Linda Eldridge, sensible souls appreciating this break in their daily routine, smile indulgently, going along with the game:“Seriously, though, he's a hard worker and very efficient. Never loses an envelope,” says Linda.“Why, I've seen Darryl in here in the deepest snow, the most baking summer...”“Darryl of Arabia!” he finishes her sentence for her.“Hey, my motto is: 'What Comes in Today, goes Out Today!'”

“I take pride in what I do,” Darryl says, pulling the truck into the Dining Center space.“I give it like 110 percent, you see what I mean? I listen to my body. I know when to put the brakes on...But I think it's important to have a positive impact on everybody you come in contact with...Haverford's a friendly place...But you only get back what you put in, you see what I mean?”

Darryl's a Dallas Cowboys fan, and loves to wear the jersey, so he catches it on campus for not supporting the Eagles:“Dick Wynn will diss me for it! Pop [Nate Handfield, a receiver/driver with a West Indian accent at the truck entrance of the DC], he will bust on me for stickin' with T.O., even after he went to Parcells and Jones! But Terrell's my man! He knows what he's worth! He's got a lot of soul, that's all...My sympathy is with energy-type individuals...I guess you can tell, huh?”

3. Evening

Calvin Riley, who's been at Haverford since 1973, looks too big and distinguished for his small office, and he runs the mail service with efficiency and panache. He emphasizes the“paper trail” aspect of his operation—logging in every package item and storing it for up to two years, if necessary.“I encourage people to call the mail center,” he explains.“It's not just a mail room, it's a communications center. Sometimes a parent will send a Christmas gift or a Valentine's present of candy or flowers, then call their child to hear if they've received it. If they haven't, they get upset. But sometimes the delivery is more important to the parent than it is to the child—they simply haven't picked it up.” [The Mail Center doesn't deliver personal packages to individuals—only College-related material.]

The Haverford Mail Center processes $100,000 a year in outgoing postage, and that's not counting special mailings from places like Marketing & Communications, or Admissions.. Students and faculty can't meter mail or just pay for stamps in the main mail room—it would cause too much confusion. So they're encouraged to weigh their envelopes and packages there, then go over to the bookstore, stamp up, and bring them back. The Pitney-Bowes machines (which the students don't use) get workouts in the hours just before and just after lunch, using an electronically-controlled digital meter with an internal automatic weighing system: the operator enters an account number, selects mail class, and the P-B automatically weighs each piece and prints the correct amount of postage for each piece.

Riley favors UPS as the most reliable tracker of packages, and so pushed for a drop box near Sharpless Hall a few years back. The location of the box became problematic:“I just thought the front of the building would be optimal, but some folks wanted it in the back,”—for“aesthetic” considerations.“I learned one from that incident.”

The old-timers' duties are divided carefully: Joe Jones concentrates on separating and placing student mail in color-coded piles—in 2005-6, it was black for freshmen; blue for sophomores, green for juniors and red for seniors —but the color codes advance annually so that in the 2006-7 school year, green will be for seniors, etc. Then Jones distributes the mail into alphabetically-arranged "mailboxes"; John Wells does the same for faculty. Calvin, who's done every mail job imaginable here, oversees, and sometimes helps out with the grunt work during heavy admissions or Valentine's Day rushes.

He's found Haverford congenial on other levels. Having grown friendly with sociology professor Mark Gould, he accepted Gould's invitation to take an Introduction to Sociology class. He found it grueling but fascinating:“Marx, Engels— the philosophy and sociology of the working class...Always fascinating to me...and I applied some of what I learned, right here ...What? Oh, now you've got me...Well, how to assess people as a supervisor. The necessity of the guys thinking for themselves. Being self-starters. Being really good with people...Being a team player..." He smiles, modestly.

“How'd I do? Well, I took it for credit, think I was around a 2.0...Took an African Philosophy course, too, with Lou Outlaw, who went down to Tennessee. But I was only monitoring...”

—John Lombardi