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The dying art of letter writing.

(Joanna Bourne)

When I was reporting my story on the mail carrier who serves

– an independent living community at Northeast Sandy Boulevard and 82

nd

Avenue in Portland – I found that some of the 155 residents don't get any letters sent to them.

These are people who came of age in another era when getting the mail meant something.

As I

Younger generations rely on texting and email. They get speed and convenience, but they'll never know the experience of waiting, wondering if this is the day a real letter, one from a lover, a parent or friend, will arrive. And nothing compares to studying the envelope before opening it and reading what's tucked away on the inside.





"Mail is huge to this population," says Maril Rueck, the activities director. "We have four computers in the activity room, but the only time they're used is when a grandchild comes to visit. Getting the mail delivered each afternoon is a social event."

I received some telephone calls and emails from readers who said they'd like to write residents at The Heights.

On Monday, I called Rueck who said she would be "thrilled" by the idea, and she knows residents would appreciate correspondence.

So here's the plan:

If you want to participate, send me a letter. I'll bundle them up and take them to Rueck. She'll read that first batch and talk with residents who want a pen pal and put you in touch with each other.

Send letters to me at:

Tom Hallman

The Oregonian

1320 S.W. Broadway

Portland, OR 97201

For younger generations who might not understand the meaning of an old-fashioned letter, leave a comment here telling us about your memory of a getting a letter that had meaning in your life.

--Tom Hallman Jr.