My husband and I were the newcomers in the neighborhood, and the noisiest. The first six months after move in, we gutted and remodeled the house. I was nervous we would upset our new neighbors, but the house was in bad shape.
While the dust was settling, we learned of mail theft in the neighborhood. I noticed other areas had locked box units, but our road still had a row of old fashioned mailboxes. Although it was charming, the row was also located on a busy county road that became quite icy in the winter.
A visit with our local Postmaster gave me the courage to campaign for locked box units in a safe location. All I needed was the agreement from our 32 neighbors to relocate and pay for a locked unit. Sounded easy, but my attempt at a survey resulted in 3 negative responses. I was discouraged.
Just as I was ready to throw in the towel, I received an overwhelming response of neighbors excited for the change. I was encouraged to keep trying. I could not let all my new neighbors down.
I practically begged the Postmaster to consider putting up the lock box units for those who were interested. I was told it was a longshot, but they would escalate it up the chain for consideration. I stopped in every couple of weeks to inquire on an answer, nearly stalking our poor Postmaster. Almost a year to the day I began my campaign, we received the approval to move forward with the project. The locked box unit would be provided to us if we laid the concrete pads, and those who were not interested, got to keep their mailboxes in the old row. Victory at last!
On a Saturday, several neighbors gathered with bags of concrete, sand, rebar, and a mixer. It was work, but also a party. Through sweat and laughter, we got to know our new neighbors and brought together a community. Not only are all the neighbors happy, we now have some new friends.