Dear Friend,

Don’t you miss getting letters in the mail? I do. And that made me think you might, too. So, I thought I’d take a moment to write to you about our little project. I hope you’ll be as excited as I am!

Let me tell you what happened.

When we moved here in the fall of 2019, the property included a small outbuilding, which the realtor suggested would make a great chicken coop. Later, we discovered it was so much more than a would-be poultry house. At the closing, the current owners revealed that the outbuilding was actually a former post office, constructed in 1899 to serve what had been the village of Sinai. Not only that, but during a re-roofing project the previous year, they had discovered more than ten crumbling cardboard boxes, hidden inside the roof for decades, full of century-old post office documents.

What we’re doing now is building an online community while restoring the physical community space. In those spaces, we honor our stories for their relationship to one another (I know, sounds great, right?). In our online community, through these letters, and on our social platforms, you’ll see exciting reveals of historical artifacts and documents from the post office that no one (ok, except me) has seen in a hundred years. 

My aim is to provide as much historical research and context as I can, relating this micro-local history to the big picture and even current events. Operating from the theme of “shared stories and histories,” I’ll also include content related to the craft of writing & storytelling, including prompts, reflections, book recommendations, and maybe even virtual workshops (!) 

Once it’s restored, the building will be multi-purpose. The physical space will open as a tiny museum, curating and sharing dozens (hundreds?) of artifacts from the old P.O. cache. It will also operate as a small, free rural library, specializing in banned books and books from voices on the margins. Ideally, the space can also be used for open community time, silent book clubs, small group meetings, or community events. 

I can almost hear you thinking, “Wow, Jess. You’re really expecting this small space to do a whole lot. Especially at a time when everything is against a small nonprofit like this one.” And you’re not wrong. But we’re living at a time when the history in our museums is being erased. Our voices and those of our neighbors, stifled and silenced. We crave community now more than ever. Isn’t this the time when a space like this is most necessary? 

I know there’s very little I can control, and I know this effort isn’t much. But it’s what I can do. In this space, at least, we honor and uplift our stories and shared histories. It’s ours. 

It’s a lot to take on, but we know each other well enough to know that we shouldn’t be underestimated. 

(Got you on board, didn’t I? And this is just the first letter!) 

More soon!

JH
Postmistress of Sinai