Back in the 1970s I used to drop off my mail every evening at the little post office in Eatonville. There was a sweet old postmistress there, Catherine Alexander. One day, she was murdered there. It was one of the most senseless crimes I ever remember.

Today, whenever I drive by the beautiful new post office, I always stop and cry for a minute. I stare at the "Catherine Alexander Memorial Post Office" sign and it breaks me up. Every time. So sweet and so deserved.