By Gordon Furr

Special to the Salisbury Post

In the early ’80s, there was no rural delivery on Swicegood Road.

I had a pal that lived in the big old Swicegood farmhouse for which the road is named. Terry Martin was his name. Terry was one of those brilliant guys that had a sort of wild streak in him. A crazy genius. Just my type of fella.

Terry complained once to me about having to go pick up the mail. He regularly sent me weird things in the mail — objectionable clips from magazines. Once, he even sent a dead mouse inside a toilet paper tube to my “cottage” in North Augusta, S.C.

My landlord, a sweet little woman named Mrs. Gleason (who was married to a Jackie Gleasonbut not that one) decided to do me a favor and set my package inside the door of the cottage, right in the tiny kitchen.

I had an unpleasant surprise when I opened the door a week later.

So, I decided to pull a stunt.

I got a large manila envelope, drew a large map on it to Terry’s house.

The map described the exact location of the house on Swicegood Road, and Tyro and Salisbury and I-85.

The map included I-85 running all the way south to Atlanta and said “The dead letter office is in Atlanta. Do NOT send this letter to the dead letter office in Atlanta!”

Then added:

“Neither rain nor sleet nor snow will stop the Postal Service from completing its appointed rounds….”

Then added, “The house is on Swicegood Road near Tyro and Lexington, North Carolina, the home of barbecue, just off I-85 north of the Yadkin River bridge. It’s the big white farmhouse on Swicegood Road for which the road is named. I know that you know where it is. So don’t disappoint me and please deliver this package. I’m adding extra postage to help you do your duty…”

All this being written in the clearest and most obvious way, and with four times the usual postage applied, I sent it on its way.

Several days later, Terry was out working in his garden when a neighbor walked up. “Here, I think this is yours,” and handed Terry the manila folder.

“My buddy is the postmaster over in Linwood. He knew I lived over ‘this-aways’ and asked me to get it to you.

And so he did.

Mission complete, with a little non-postal civilian help. The only general mail to have been delivered at that time on Swicegood Road, near Lexington, the home of barbecue, off I-85 just north of the Yadkin River bridge in North Carolina — not at that dead letter office in Atlanta, Georgia. No sirree.

You might ask “what was in that manila envelope that took all that trouble to get to that old farmhouse on Swicegood Road?”

Well, I can’t tell you, or else I’d have to kill ya.

Gordon Furr lives in Rowan County.