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Australians rank post offices as the third most trusted institution after doctors and police. They have significant importance for older citizens and those of us living with a disability, according to a 2021 Deloitte report. Participants agreed that Australia Post brings resilience to our communities.
Sadly, my own loss is shared. According to Australia Post’s 2024 annual report, there are 73 fewer post offices this year than last. For my suburb at least, it means the urban ideal of walking to a place where we can conduct our postal affairs is over. We’re getting in the car.
As the business continually reimagines itself, can new digital services even remotely approximate the power of organic interactions? When, with ratty children and restless pets in tow, we lug our packets home, a little lighter for bumping into a neighbour or a friend? “Just ducking up to the post office.”
Two more “post shops” are labelled for redevelopment in my part of Sydney. One, a hub for over 100 years. A place where my grandma posted cherished shipments to the lieutenant-colonel she called her husband. Love notes held by his fingers, written in her hand. My own collection of Granny May’s scented envelopes passing through the same sorting trays.
As more passive public space is converted to the private realm, churches transform into child-care centres and high streets morph into polished concrete malls, I fear Postman Pat will become as elusive as a Womble. Red pillar boxes, empty sentinels at their post.
Personal mail may be dead. Miles Franklin, a brilliant correspondent, wrote prodigiously to a multitude of “congenials”. Crafting missives from her heart, to be furnished in the flesh. How would she respond to an email, a text message, a DM, an e-card, FaceTime or a Zoom call? Mindful. Permanent.
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Every family has its own intergenerational treasure trove, history stuffed for perpetuity in a shoebox under the bed.
Never once, as a patron of my post office, did I greet the counter staff by name. A nod of recognition and a smile were sufficient. I just hope the human beings who were that post office felt my gratitude; knew that we valued their consistency and reliability as familiar faces in our lives.
Sadly, I didn’t get to say goodbye – to convey in person that I respected their work, noticed their professionalism, appreciated the privilege we could take granted that they always would be there.
Perhaps I will send them a letter.
Annie Flynn is a mother of three, a primary school teacher and a former lawyer.