http://www.cnn.com/US/9712/19/postal.shooting.11a/index.html
8:19
Anthony DeCulit was a Brother who shot up the Main Post Office in Milwaukee. He was a Clerk in a section that took damaged or bulky letter mail and cased it by hand because it couldn't be done by automation. He was the only Black person in the section on 3rd shift. He was married to a White woman and had two biracial kids.
The CACs in his section constantly fucked with him over his kids and taunted him relentlessly. I was a Mailhandler and operated "Mules" and Forklifts.
The Section that I was assigned to before then was the Small Parcel and Bundle Sorter (SPBS) which was adjacent to the Letter Cases where they worked, so we ate lunch in the same break room, played Spades and Dominoes on breaks, etc., so we knew what the CACs were putting him through.
Anthony was a big dude. He was built like a Pro Wrestler and spent his free time in the Gym. He could've wrapped ANY ONE of those CACs around his waist and broken their backs.
Joan Chitwood was the Supervisor. She was a petite, frail little bitch. Imagine Bader-Ginsburg with Judge Judy's mouth and attitude constantly over your shoulder pressing you to increase productivity to compete with other Post Offices that had all brand new facilities. The bitch was an atrocious overseer and I'd had it out with her on numerous occasions while pulling Dispatch. The article linked says 12:45 am but the shit was at 3:45 am.
Joan also oversaw the Dispatch of the mail coming from the 4th Floor as an eyes on for the Supervisors up there, the Dock is on the 3rd Floor. As usual, she's there sounding like the Wicked Witch of the West cackling into her Motorola and attempting to press us Operators into pulling the Hot mail first, blah, blah, blah.
We'd blow the bitch off, cuz ONE, you're not our Supervisor and TWO, WE KNOW what the fuck Joan!
I'd just hooked up three pipes of Star Route Mail (rural mail for out in the sticks) and taken off. By the time I made it to my final stall on the Dock and unhooked, the crowd came running out of the doors meant for Mules and Forklifts. They were screaming that there was a shooter and to run!
Mike, the Star Route driver looked at each other like
FOH! We went on to separate his mail by each town and then the floodgates were opened. Everybody came rushin' up out that muhfucka with Managers right on their heels screaming like a muhfucka.
I don't consider that I cheated death because Anthony had his intended targets, but a couple of folks caught ricochets off of concrete columns and I could've been one of them not three minutes earlier.
Anthony killed the muhfucka who gave him the most grief and he tried to kill Joan but only caught her in the eye and she survived. She was short and managed to attempt to duck fire behind a Letter Case as he was aiming for a headshot. If I had been connecting my pipes or APCs while he was bearing down on Joan, I'd have been right in the crossfire.
He killed them and then took himself out. I and one other Brotha were still there to pull Dispatches and clear the scene while the Police did the investigation. We got first-hand looks at the bodies and the carnage that happened.
Joan, I almost wanna say that it couldn't have happened to a better person, but yo ass got paid.
