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    US Post Office

    3.7 (3 reviews)
    Open 8:00 am - 4:00 pm

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    3 months ago

    I love this place Tracy is always so helpful and thoughtful, she's the best around. Seriously!

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    3 years ago

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    8 years ago

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    Ask the Community - US Post Office

    US Post Office - Sending postcards to my fave people.

    US Post Office

    (7 reviews)

    Goodbye. It seemed like such a permanent, concrete word and for just a moment, it jumped off the…read morelinen stationery and into Daisy Degnan's mind. It rattled and echoed for only a moment before she let it form in her throat and roll off of her tongue. "Goodbye," she whispered. No one there at the Yosemite Post Office heard her say it, but saying it out loud made it real; the act of saying it out loud somehow made it less scary. She closed box number 321, and still clutching the letter, made her way outside. She turned too quickly in her plain, navy blue dress and looked down to watch the flour shake free from the pleats, dissipating into the breeze of Yosemite Valley. She watched as long as she could, until each little particle disappeared, floating upwards to El Capitan, Half Dome, Yosemite Falls -- standing outside the post office she could see them all towering around her. They were old friends. Protectors since birth. Why had she ever left this place? "Miss Daisy Degnan left Yosemite Valley Thursday for an indefinite visit in San Francisco," the newspaper had said. She had memorized it, not because she was particularly fond of the Mariposa Gazette, but because it was all she had ever wanted and it was the fulfillment of that dream; the black-and-white embodiment of her desire to get out of her mother's bakery, and out of the Valley, and go to the city where there were automobiles, dress shops, and even an honest-to-goodness French baker making real baguettes. So, against her mother's wishes she had packed her canvas backpack and taken a ride all the way down the bumping roads to the train station and purchased a ticket to San Francisco. A loud crack suddenly broke her gaze and she looked back towards the post office. It was just the door slamming into its frame; although the post office was still new, the door spring had already malfunctioned and there was no easing it back after it opened. Every time someone went in and out, the door would slam against its frame before slowly sliding back into place. It was 1925 and they could make automobiles that drove all the way from the city to her Valley, but they still couldn't make a door that didn't slam like that? Her mother would be needing her soon in the bakery. She had loathed those peasant loaves as a young woman, and had wanted so badly to try one of the city's proper loaves when she arrived. But when she finally found the Parisian baker and tried his baguette, her heart sank. She found herself longing for the family recipe; Yosemite imparted some kind of magic into each round boule, and she missed it. That was the first time she wondered if she had make a mistake. Before making her way back to her mother's side to help with the next batch of dough, she needed to go see The Old Man. She promised it would be a quick visit, but she also knew that with him, there was no such thing. She followed the road, crossed over the bridge, and headed back down underneath the stones to his shores. "Old man," she said to the river, "he said goodbye. I mean, I didn't want him to. I wanted him to come to me, and for us to live all those dreams we had..." she trailed off. The Old Man quietly took all this information in. This particular stretch of emerald pools was her favorite, because more than riffles, falls, or rapids, the pools of the Merced always listened, but today the muted gurgles urged her to say even more. "Please don't make me say it," she pleaded. She didn't want to say the thing. The true thing; that thing that neither time, nor distance, nor any goodbye letter would ever change. But already she knew she would have to say it. That urge to speak truth was strong; It was the same feeling she had when she finally admitted that leaving the valley had been a mistake. It was the kind of truth that flowed even stronger and swifter than the Old Man and had to be said out loud because keeping it in would eventually shake down the very walls of this valley. She sighed, drew in a breath, and spoke her truth: "I love him. I will always love him. And he didn't choose me." She unfolded the letter and looked one last time at the angle and curve of his initials, and then closed her eyes and released the letter, with its hopes, and dreams, but also with its burdens it to the river. It slowly circled the eddies, and once saturated the cool waters of the Merced carried it out from the grass, over the rocks, and out of her sight. "Goodbye," she whispered, and turned back to the trees of Yosemite Valley where the sun was shining once again. **Author's note: Daisy Degnan is a real person, as cited in the newspaper snippet. Her mother Bridget, ran the bakery in the early 1900s and there's even a cafe called Degnan's Kitchen in Yosemite still today. The rest is fiction, but The Post Office is my favorite place in Yosemite and this is the only way I know how to paint a picture of how I feel every time I go in there.

    Gentleman who helped us was knowledgeable and friendly. I also appreciated that he was quiet and…read morespoke in a low volume because it made the historic post office feel even more special like a library. The antique post office boxes are pretty cool. We bought National Park forever stamps here as a gift since the person we were buying for is not one to wear tee shirts or hats. She absolutely loved the stamps because they are photographs and paintings of multiple national parks and the print in the middle is of an old Yosemite stamp! She plans to use most of the stamps for greeting cards that she mails to friends and family and then save one sheet as a commemorative of our trip. We loved the recycle bin for junk mail. What a great idea! Wish we had one of these by the mailboxes where we live as our neighbors tend to fill the community dumpsters and this would help them do the right thing and make it easy and convenient to recycle.

    US Post Office - postoffices - Updated May 2026

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