Heavyweight - #56 44 Photos
Episode Date: November 9, 2023One morning, Amy opened her mailbox and found a package with 44 photos inside—photos of complete strangers. Now Amy wonders: Who are they? And why were the photos sent to her? Credits This episode ...was hosted and produced by supervising producer Stevie Lane, along with Jonathan Goldstein, Phoebe Flanigan, and Mohini Madgavkar. The senior producer is Kalila Holt. Editorial guidance from Emily Condon. Special thanks to Alex Blumberg, Mimi O’Donnell, Lauren Silverman, Maureen Taylor, Estelle Ivory, and all the incredibly patient people over at the USPS. The show was mixed by Bobby Lord. Music by Christine Fellows, John K Samson, Blue Dot Sessions, Golden Dunes, In Skies, Megatrax, Christopher Lennertz, and Bobby Lord. Our theme song is by The Weakerthans courtesy of Epitaph Records. Heavyweight is a Spotify Original Podcast. Amy has just written a new book, Artificial, a graphic memoir about her father’s efforts to preserve her late grandfather’s identity using AI technology. You can find it at your local bookstore. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Transcript
Discussion (0)
Hello?
Hello.
Oh, hello.
Do you know who this is?
Yes, Evie.
Yeah, you got me.
You have a pretty recognizable voice, I have to say.
It has sort of like a pleasantly deep register.
Wow.
In a nice way, and it makes your voice very distinct.
It's funny you should say this because one time when I was in middle school,
my friend called my house and I picked up the phone and I was like, hello?
And she thought it was my dad.
She was like, hi, Rob, is Stevie home?
And I just pretended that, in fact, I was my father.
And I was just like, yeah, let me get her.
You didn't want to contradict your friend.
I think I was just so embarrassed that I could possibly be mistaken for an old man.
Well, maybe with respect to your dad, he maybe he kind of sounds like a little girl.
Hello, Stevie Lansdowne speaking.
Hello, Stevie Lainstad speaking.
I'm Stevie Lane and this is Heavyweight.
Today's episode, 44 photos.
Right after the break. I do. Enjoy the number one feeling, winning, in an exciting live dealer studio, exclusively on FanDuel Casino, where winning is undefeated.
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There are places, according to Celtic folklore, where the boundary between our physical world and the spiritual world is porous,
where Earth and the otherworldly are separated by no more than a few inches.
At these places, strange, unexplainable things can happen.
These places are called thin places, and this is a story about one of them.
A few years ago, Jordan Kistner wrote a book about thin places.
She wanted to send it to her friend, Amy. 2021. And I went to the USPS that was a few blocks away from my apartment at the time.
Jordan bought a brown padded envelope, put her book inside and handed it to the postal worker.
And that was that. It was a really uneventful post office visit on a pretty normal spring day in Vegas.
It was a sunny day in April and I walked to the mailbox. This is Jordan's friend, Amy,
which is a really exciting part of my day. I really like mail and I open the mailbox with a little key and there's something like stuffed into my box.
Something Amy had been expecting, the package Jordan sent her.
It says, you know, to Amy, from Jordan, and the address is Las Vegas.
Amy brought the package back to her house and eagerly tore it open.
But inside, Amy did not find Jordan's book.
She didn't find a book at all.
Instead, she found a stack of photographs. And that's where the mystery begins.
Amy didn't recognize anyone in the photos. There was one of a girl wearing a blue t-shirt with clouds printed on it. Another of three teenagers in caps and gowns. The people were of all different ages and
races. Some of the photos were in black and white, some in color. One was a Polaroid. Amy counted 44
photos in all. 44 photos of complete and total strangers. And yet, the package was labeled
To Amy, her name written in ballpoint pen. Jordan's return address was scrawled in the
upper left-hand corner. Struggling to come up with an explanation, Amy wondered, maybe Jordan sent these
by accident. So Amy texted Jordan, telling her she received her package, but rather than a book,
found 44 photographs inside. And I was completely confused. I just, I just couldn't, I actually felt
like I couldn't totally comprehend the message she was sending me. So Jordan texted Amy back,
wait, comma, what? With two question marks. Two. Yeah, two. And then photos, question mark.
Amy sent Jordan a picture of the package and all 44 photographs spread out on her kitchen counter.
and all 44 photographs spread out on her kitchen counter.
And she said, what in all caps?
I have no idea what those photos are.
I don't even know those people, but that's my handwriting on the package.
It was hard to know what to make of the whole thing.
It's like Amy expected a book about thin places,
but got an actual thin place experience instead. Amy can't bring herself to just throw the photos away. So for an entire
year now, she's kept them by her desk. And for an entire year, she's been studying them. There's the
one of a new baby sucking on someone's finger. There's a little girl in glasses and a cheerleader's outfit,
holding her leg up and smiling confidently into the camera.
The more Amy looks at the photos,
the more she thinks about the family that's missing them.
These people in the photos are nobodies to Amy,
but they are somebodies to somebody.
Is there a way to find any of these people?
Like, who are they?
Do they want their photographs back? Because I would like the photographs to be returned to the family. I feel like people should have their things. A year ago, when Amy first received the
package, she and Jordan tried opening a case file on the mysterious photos, hoping the USPS
could shed light on where they came from. But nothing ever came of it. The mail system, we feel
like we understand it, but then when you really think about it, it is this complete mystery. It's
like a void into which we send stuff and from which that stuff emerges again. But then when it
doesn't emerge, you're like, wait a second, but what, what is, where is it going? What is, what is this system? What don't
we know about it? There's a lot that I don't know about it, but Amy and Jordan want my help
figuring out how Amy ended up with the photographs and how to return to sender.
To get to the bottom of it, I'll have to navigate a mysterious, little-understood world
that exists alongside our own. A world separated only by an inches-wide slot in a metal box.
And so, I step over the boundary, into the world of the United States Postal Service.
I start with a theory that Jordan, Amy, and I discussed on the phone.
Jordan had sent Amy the book via media mail,
a discounted rate for sending things like books and CDs.
From what I read online, it sounds like the post office searches media mail packages to prevent people from sending anything they want on the cheap. And in fact, Amy noticed that the
package had been taped up as though it had been resealed en route. Maybe Jordan's package and
the package with the photos were both searched and then accidentally swapped. To test this theory, I call the Postal Inspection
Service. It turns out the post office has a whole department of inspectors. Are you sort of like the
James Bond of the mail service? Actually, it's funny you mention it. My badge number was 007.
No. Really?
No. Really?
Really. His name is Michalko. Dan Michalko. He's a U.S. Postal Inspector. And what does he inspect?
Postal crimes. Theft of mail. Mail fraud. Prohibited items in the mail such as bombs, narcotics, anthrax attacks, pornography.
I put my theory to Dan.
Might the Postal Inspection Service have opened and examined Jordan's package?
No, no, we don't do anything like that. The only time we'd ever inspect mail is if we had a search warrant.
So we can't just open up mail.
Huh.
Nobody in the postal service has that authority.
Dan says USPS investigators don't inspect packages
without probable cause.
Here's what it sounds like may have happened.
Dan guesses that somewhere along the way,
Jordan's package got damaged and the book fell out.
Another package, carrying the bundle of photos, could have also broken open.
A postal worker might have seen the loose bundle of photos, thought they belonged in Jordan's envelope, and accidentally switched the packaging.
And here's where that switch might have occurred.
It used to be commonly referred to as the dead letter office,
but now I think it's Mail Recovery Center.
The Mail Recovery Center, or MRC, is located in Atlanta, Georgia.
It's where all undeliverable mail winds up.
Some of the stuff they receive is truly strange.
An alligator skull still covered in flesh, cremation boxes, Tom
Nasalky's 1971 NBA championship ring, which had been stolen from him 12 years before showing up
at the MRC. I don't know who Tom Nasalky is, but listeners might. The MRC is also one of the few
places where postal workers are actually allowed to open mail to help them look for clues as to where the items or letters belong.
Dan says that it's the job, in part, of the MRC employees
to make their best guess about what belongs with what and send it on its way.
They have to try to put pieces together.
You know, they're kind of sleuths in their own way.
In their own way.
Don't condescend to the MRC, Agent Mihalko.
If Dan is right, the original package the photos came in,
with the original address,
might still be sitting somewhere at the MRC.
So I phone up the person in charge to ask.
This is the manager, Lionel Snow. Oh, hi, Lionel. My name is Stevie Lane, and I'm a radio journalist. Do you have a moment so I can tell you why I'm calling?
Not really. I mean, I don't have a whole lot of conversation time to talk with customers.
season time to talk with customers.
Nevertheless,
I tell him about the mix-up.
Anything could have happened. Anything could have happened.
I mean, I couldn't tell you.
Lionel tells me that, contrary to Dan Mihalko's theory, Jordan's
package likely never made it to the MRC.
If it had,
it would probably have a special stamp
on it, which Jordan's package doesn't.
I ask if he has any other guesses, but he just keeps whipping out his favorite phrase.
Anything could have happened. Anything could have happened. I can make an educated guess or not.
When I press, the answer is, or not.
Anything could have happened.
Jordan had likened the mail system to a void into which we send stuff and from which that stuff emerges.
But it appears it's also a void into which I send my questions and from which nothing emerges.
Over a number of weeks, I reach out to more people at the USPS, in the communications department, the historian's office, even the postal museum. It is a mystery. I can't really guess. We have 160 million addresses
in the US. Could have come from any one of them. Nobody is able to help.
I've hit a dead end with the post office.
So I turn to the only other information that I have,
the photos themselves.
Is there a way to identify the people in these photographs?
There's a photo of someone's pet cat,
but it doesn't have a collar with a tag.
There's a graduation,
but it doesn't show the name of the school.
There's one photo of a man sitting in a restaurant holding up a signed headshot
of what looks like a younger version of himself.
The headshot is signed
Dr. Pedro something MD
but after hours of Photoshop sharpening
I still can't read what that something is.
For every photo
I'm just one small piece of information away from cracking the case.
Every photo, except for one. The photo is the oldest in the bunch, a creased and faded polaroid.
In it, a man crouches in the grass, supporting a baby in plaid overalls, barely old enough to walk.
supporting a baby in plaid overalls, barely old enough to walk.
The baby is looking down at a dog,
rolling over on its back playfully while the man pets its stomach.
No one is aware of the camera.
It seems to be capturing a private moment.
And when you flip the photo over, there's something written on the back.
Dallin, Kelly, and Queenie, it says in all caps. Ike grandparents, Cox's. Kelly, nine and a half months. Fanduel Casino's exclusive live dealer studio
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Dallin, Kelly, and Queenie.
Grandparents. Coxes.
After googling around, I find a number for a Dallin Cox in California.
Hello.
Hi, is this Dallin?
This is.
I'd called a few days before and left a message.
I'm just really curious what this is all about, honestly.
I have no idea how I'd be involved in anything that you would be looking into. So I explain about the package of photos Amy received, about one in particular, of a man with a child and a dog
with an inscription on the back. And it says, Dallin, Kelly and Queenie at grandparents Cox's.
Kelly, nine and a half months.
That's crazy. Yeah, that's crazy. That would be my dad, yeah.
Huh.
Yeah, sounds like it might be my dad and my sister Kelly.
Dallin's dad is Dallin's senior.
Dallin suggests I give him a call to see if the photo belongs to him.
Hello?
I tell Dallin Sr. all about the photo of him and his daughter Kelly.
Then I text it over to him.
All right, here it comes.
Yeah, I'm going to keep you all right.
Yeah, I'm going to keep the R.
Wow.
That would have been from 1967, probably, or 68.
She'd have been about nine months old, I would say, at that time.
Obviously, it's standing up a little bit, but she walked at an early age like that.
Yeah, that's really something. No, I don't have that picture in my collection.
In fact, I don't recall ever having seen it before.
Kelly was born in 67, in June of 67.
And she actually, she passed away in March of last year.
Kelly died on March 30th, 2021.
The package with Kelly's photo was postmarked April 30th, 2021.
The package with Kelly's photo was postmarked April 7th, 2021,
just one week after she died.
That just makes it really strange.
Kelly died unexpectedly of heart failure at the age of 53.
It was a shock to her family.
Everybody loved her laugh.
When she laughed, it was just really unique and an enthusiastic laugh, you know.
I remember taking her with me to a lake one weekend
and she learned to water ski and she was having a ball.
My dad used to take Kelly at that age,
when she was about a year old, down to the lake,
and they would feed the ducks.
He'd take breadcrumbs, and they'd throw them to the ducks,
and she got so excited to do that.
That was her favorite thing to do.
Dallin Sr. doesn't recognize the handwriting on the back of the photograph,
but he wonders if it belongs to Kelly's mother,
his ex-wife, Betty.
Betty had been sick and unable to make it to Kelly's funeral, his ex-wife, Betty. Betty had been sick and unable
to make it to Kelly's funeral. Maybe she put it in the mail, hoping it would arrive for the service.
When I phone Betty, she doesn't remember the photo, but she tells me that she did indeed
mail a package of photos to her granddaughter, Devin. Devin is Kelly's daughter.
Devon.
Devon is Kelly's daughter.
This is Devon.
So I call Devon to see if I ended up with the photos that her grandma tried to send her.
No, I did get a package of photos from my grandmother.
Huh.
Devon got the photos from Betty in a package that was firmly sealed.
And the photo of Kelly and Dallin?
That one wasn't in there.
Devin says she's never seen it before.
As for the rest of the photographs Amy received... I don't recognize any of the people.
None of them, huh?
No.
Dallin Jr., Dallin Sr., and Betty all said the same thing when I sent them the photos.
Somehow, then, it seems this photograph, along its journey through the mail, wound up with 43 other images of other random families.
Devin can't tell me anything about those other families, but she does tell me about her own.
Her mom, Kelly, got pregnant with her when she was in college.
Kelly wasn't prepared to take care of a child.
And soon after Devin was born, Dallin Sr., Devin's grandfather, took Devin in and raised her as his daughter.
I know that my mom had mental health issues.
And it took over my mom's life in many ways.
There were many instances in my mom's life
where she didn't have the power to take care of me,
and there were many years that passed by,
and I had nothing to do with my mom.
Like, I didn't know where she was.
I didn't hear from her.
I was unsure if she was even alive. So I've had a hard time growing up believing that my mom loved me.
But, Devin tells me, in the last seven or eight years before her mom's death, that changed.
Devin was in her mid-twenties, and without explanation, seemingly overnight, Kelly started reaching out more.
She would come over to help Devin with projects around the house, like painting cabinets.
The two of them spent hours sitting together on the couch, playing Zelda.
And I felt like I had my mom.
I finally had my mom.
I was an adult, but at least I had my mom.
Two weeks before she passed, my mom just out of the blue said,
do you want to go out and go do something together? And I was like, I don't know blue said do you want to go out and go do something together and I was like I don't know where do you want to go and she's like what about that place that
has mini golf and go-karts and I was like okay then let's go and um I hang on to that moment
somehow I feel like she knew that she wasn't going to be around for very long.
And she was trying to spend more time with me and trying to do things with me.
As for the photograph and the strange circumstances of its appearance.
I don't feel like it's weird.
I just think that it fits my mom's personality to do something like that how do you mean it fits her personality to do something like
she she believed that there's something beyond death and i've never believed in ghosts or anything or anything after you pass.
But if there is something there, my mom would definitely do something like this.
So you think that this is almost like a missive from your mom?
Yeah, I think that's possible.
And I feel like this is her trying to say, I'm still here.
In Jordan's book, she writes that in thin places, quote, invisible things like music or love or dead people might become visible.
Or if they don't become visible, they become so present
and tangible that it doesn't matter. Like Devin, I'm not one to believe in ghosts. Yet, after
talking with everyone, I still don't know where the photo of Kelly came from. No one in Kelly's
family can account for it. So after months of searching, the origins of this photo are still a mystery.
But in what I see as a series of unexplainable events
that began with Jordan sending a book and ended up here,
Devin sees her mother.
And it's precisely the unlikeliness of the events
that she points to as proof.
I just think if you look at all of the little pieces of how
this happened, not just anybody would have reached out and tried to find the owner of a photo.
I think it would have been tossed in the trash or pushed aside. I feel like
it's like a treasure from my mom. That's how I feel.
Like my mom placed it there on purpose
and got it into the right hands
that would reach out to me.
I'd been thinking of this
as a story about mail going to the wrong place.
But listening to Devin,
I wonder if it's actually a story
about it going to the right one,
to Amy.
And yet, because the photo wound up in Amy's hands, Devin didn't get it for an entire year after Kelly's death.
If Kelly wanted Devin to have the photo, why deliver it a year late? Why now?
There have been times where I've really needed somebody to be in my house with me.
And out of everybody in my family and out of all of my friends, my mom would drop anything to come and support me.
And when she passed, I didn't have that safety net anymore.
I had trouble at my job and I had to take extra time off.
But if she's still here, that makes a difference.
It's not easy losing a mom. So,
having this feeling that she's still here and she's still with me is,
is amazing.
Right after a loss,
there are lots of people to lean on.
But as time passes
and people return to their lives,
you begin to feel that loss
in a new way.
Houses get cleaned out,
clothes get donated,
and all evidence of the person
fades away.
With the photo, though,
Kelly has come back to Devon.
A year late,
but perhaps right on time.
Devin's grandfather, Dallin Sr., is turning 75 soon.
Devin told me that they're throwing him a big party.
She's been working on his birthday present for months,
a new family photo album.
And along with all the photographs she's collected,
she wants to include this one,
safe among the other smiling faces
of Kelly's family members,
where, surely, it won't be lost again. Thank you. guitar solo
Now that the furniture's
returning to its goodwill home
Now that the last month's rent is scheming with the damage deposit
Take this moment to decide
If we meant it, if we tried
Or felt around for far too much
From things that accidentally touched
This episode of Heavyweight was produced by me, Stevie Lane,
along with Jonathan Goldstein, Phoebe Flanagan, and Mohini McGowker.
Our senior producer is Kalila Holt. Special thanks to Alex Bloomberg, Mimi O'Donnell, Thank you. Fellows, John K. Sampson, Blue Dot Sessions, Sean Jacoby, and Bobby Lord. Additional music
credits can be found on our website, gimletmedia.com slash heavyweight. Our theme song is by The Weaker
Thans, courtesy of Epitaph Records. Amy has just written a new book, Artificial, a graphic memoir
about her father's efforts to preserve her late grandfather's identity using AI technology. You
can find it at your local bookstore. Heavyweight is a
Spotify original podcast.
Follow us on Twitter at Heavyweight,
on Instagram at Heavyweight Podcast,
or email us at heavyweight
at gimletmedia.com. You can follow
our show on Spotify and tap the bell
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episodes drop. And one will
drop next week.
Hello, Stevie's dad speaking.
Oh, that was nice. Okay, great. Estelle, thank you so much. Oh, that was nice.
Okay, great.
Estelle, thank you so much.
Hey, what is your show about anyway?