'GOING POSTAL'
Myth or Reality

By Irene Middleman Thomas

Photo by Ron Chapple/FPG

AT RED LIGHTS around the country, motorists grimace at the dark humor of a bumper sticker that says "Guns don't kill people, postal workers do."

To "go postal" has become an American euphemism on late-night television comedy routines for cracking up. The mental state of postal employees has become an emotional subject in this country, and stereotypes are tossed about with abandon.

Since 1985, 29 postal employees have been killed by nine co-workers or former employees in nine separate incidents. But consultants specializing in workplace violence say the image of the Postal Service as a harborer of violent employees is an unfair stereotype. They call it a social myth that has been largely propagated by the media.

A defining moment for workplace violence did occur in 1986 in Edmond, OK, where 14 employees were killed by a part-time letter carrier about to be dismissed. Since workplace violence had been largely unreported by the media up to that time, the issue became associated, at least in the view of the media, with the Postal Service. Explains Dennis L. Johnson, a consultant specializing in behavioral violence, "What needs to be pointed out is that workplace violence clearly is a social problem and a problem for corporate America, not just the Postal Service."

The facts back up his statements. Homicide is now the second leading cause of occupational injury death, after motor vehicle accidents. Statistics compiled by the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health estimate that more than 1,000 U.S. workers are murdered at work each year.*

Recently, at least one major insurance company, Cigna International, launched workplace violence insurance, aimed at the $4.2-billion-a-year problem and covering "any act of workplace violence that is criminally related."

Despite the fact that the Postal Service is a less dangerous place to work than the private sector, there still remain some cold facts and lasting painful memories etched in the minds and hearts of postal survivors, of victims' co-workers and of friends and families. Kathy Shanahan, senior personnel services specialist for the Boston District and a 26-year veteran, brushes her brown hair off her face with her fingers and shudders when recalling an episode she experienced nearly a decade ago.

"My husband is a former Vietnam War helicopter pilot, so I had heard horror stories. But this was different. It's certainly a sight that I'll have with me forever," she says softly, the pain reflected in her eyes. "I had never been at a murder scene."

Shanahan was called back to work one night to help counsel employees who had witnessed a male employee shooting to death a young female co-worker who had resisted his advances. "I saw reminders of the tragedy everywhere. I felt sick to my stomach and an overwhelming sorrow."

Shanahan adds that living through the incident made her more sensitive to issues that arise in the workplace. "I think about the very extreme case that occurred and tend to weigh my dealings with co-workers and my job more seriously."

"VIOLENCE COULD HAVE HAPPENED ANYWHERE," says Vesta McNulty, a general clerk at the Edmond, OK, Post Office who was at her window at the time of the shootings. Although she decided not to transfer out, the fear she experienced left its mark on her. For days after the tragedy she was unable to enter the post office alone. "We went in as a group, about ten of us," she says, recalling the panic she and her co-workers felt initially. "We knew the place was secured, but we were still anxious."

Today, more than 10 years later, McNulty says she's more conscious of possible danger, always taking precautionary measures when out in public. "When I hear on the news about something violent happening to someone else, I'm more affected than I used to be. I know what those people are going through."

Although Edmond was the worst tragedy, in the decade that followed, other violent incidents occurred in the Postal Service, mirroring an even greater violent tendency in the private-sector workplace. Says Employee Relations Specialist and Violence Prevention Program Coordinator Bradley A. Johnson, "Postal management came to realize that traditional methods would not solve the problem. A survey at the time indicated that 31 percent of postal employees feared physical violence at work."

Following a 1991 shooting in Royal Oak, MI, a national Joint Committee on Workplace Behavior comprising the national elected officers from postal unions (except the American Postal Workers Union) and management associations along with senior postal executives signed a joint statement on violence and behavior in the workplace. It was a first step toward recognizing the scope of the problem and the responsibility all employees had in addressing it.

But the statement and everyone's good intentions were not enough to help the organization come to grips with violence and its aftermath - angry, fearful, stressed and depressed employees; absenteeism and productivity declines. So senior executives, starting with Postmaster General and CEO Marvin Runyon, agreed that radical changes were necessary.

In May 1993, Runyon launched a sweeping review of postal programs and policies. "This is a time for a candid appraisal of our flaws and not a time for scapegoating, fingerpointing or procrastination," he said. "It is a time for reaffirming the basic right of all employees to a safe and humane working environment. It is also the time to take action to show that we mean what we say."

The Joint Committee on Workplace Behavior worked with postal management to devise prevention strategies. The committee held focus groups to study employees' feelings on workplace violence, and consultants advised the Postal Service on prevention strategies.

Says Bradley Johnson, "Our goal is to provide a safe workplace, with no violence. It's a major undertaking. When people come to work they should feel safe and secure, and know they'll go home to their families at the end of the day."

In December 1993, the Postal Service hosted the first National Symposium on Workplace Violence, with a mix of private industry and government participants, resulting in a further revamping of postal procedures. Training was deployed for more effective employment screenings and fingerprinting to allow for a database check into FBI criminal records.

At the same time, managers and supervisors began receiving training on issues such as employee empowerment, conflict resolution and positive reinforcement to counter the perception of the "militaristic" postal management style. Even postal inspectors, who investigate assault and threat incidents, have received specialized training to recognize and handle potentially violent situations.

"WE MUST WORK TO ELIMINATE VIOLENCE. MERELY reducing it in the workplace is not enough," Johnson adds.

So the Postal Service also instituted a "zero tolerance" policy toward bringing guns to work. In fact, dangerous weapons of any kind on postal premises are prohibited by law. A regular Employee Opinion Survey was initiated, and the Employee Assistance Program, originally launched in 1968 to assist employees with alcohol and substance abuse problems, was expanded to include marital, financial and legal counseling.

A year and a half later, the Postal Service held a second symposium that led to the development of a violence prevention awareness program aimed at 40,000 postmasters, managers, supervisors and local union leaders - the first program of its kind in corporate America.

Explains Johnson, "It's an eight-hour course that focuses on recognizing warning signs of violence, practicing proactive prevention procedures and providing a knowledge of national and local policies and procedures." By the end of September 1996, more than 61,000 employees went through the program, at a cost of about $15 million. "We are putting our money behind this effort. The Postal Service is becoming a leader in the prevention of workplace violence and is committed to this."

In 1995, the Postal Service added two elements: the National Crisis Management Plan, designed to assist in handling a crisis and its aftermath, and the Threat Assessment Team, which responds to potentially dangerous situations before they escalate. Both will be implemented later this year. (See story on page 11.)

Notes Dennis Johnson, "The Postal Service has positively developed strategies to help head off incidents prior to reaching a crisis. In my experience, the scope of the organization's policies and procedures is the broadest and most carefully considered in all of corporate America. The Postal Service has not put its head in the sand; it has taken up the challenge.

"Despite everyone's best efforts, occasional incidents are going to happen," Johnson points out. "Violence is part of the American landscape. But what the Postal Service is doing will definitely reduce the number and severity of such incidents."

Shanahan agrees. "People think if they ignore the problem it will just go away. But that rarely happens and things just escalate. Hopefully now people, managers and employees won't be afraid to step in and do something. And that will make all of us feel safer working in the Postal Service."

"I'M EVACUATING THE BUILDING; I've got chaos over here," Ken McArthur shouted into the phone. "Oh, I just heard another shot, I've got to go!"

Shortly after 8 a.m., Rochelle Israel, administrative coordinator and Cleveland crisis response team manager, fielded the first of nearly 70 calls that would come in over the next two hours. With a tremulous voice, she relayed the news to the team. "Oh my God, there's been a shooting at the plant. Employees are hurt. We don't know where the shooter is!"

Fortunately, this incident was staged. At first, team members participating in the Cleveland Processing and Distribution Center's September crisis simulation resembled actors in a high school play. They knew that Ken McArthur was the source of the "crisis" phone calls in a room only a few doors down. But that was soon forgotten, and the mood swiftly became electrified with tension as the calls poured in, providing bits of information about the nonstop violent events. "What should we do with the media," shouted one team member, who had been fielding calls from insistent reporters. "It looks serious," another member told the group, as she hung up on a hospital staffer who relayed information about a badly injured employee.

The crisis simulation was the fourth held to increase crisis management skills before a major incident occurs. Representing operations, human resources, the Inspection Service, the Employee Assistance Program, and communications, team members were told only that a crisis would occur shortly after they assembled. Members of the simulation observation team, including headquarters managers and consultants, were close at hand.

Team members acted fast, responding to the purposeful twists and turns - facts and misinformation. Several team members scurried about keeping a timed, blow-by-blow log on flip charts to keep all team members informed, while others took care of responding to the "business" at hand.

"I've got people killed! You want me to worry about operations?" a control room staffer bellowed at one point to an incoming caller. But with ingenuity and experience, the team developed plans for handling the mail, the media and hospital staffers, and for counseling services and notifying victims families. By the end of the simulation, they had dealt with calamities, including murders, a bomb, a hostage situation, a suicide, an ambulance running over an employee and a fire.

McArthur, senior manager, Distribution Operations at the Salt Lake City P&DC, says the frantic pace and constant pressure of phone calls kept the scenario from seeming staged. He and the observation team were pleasantly surprised by the swift and effective response of team members.

"We don't claim that what you just went through was entirely realistic, but it could be," Leo McIsaac, Salt Lake City Human Resources manager and simulation manager, told the group afterwards. "We were trying to create the emotional pitch of a crisis. I can guarantee you that the emotional level and intensity in a real crisis would be even worse."

Edward P. Moore, Cleveland communications coordinator and team member in charge of media contact, recalls "At the beginning, I felt a little tense. But I was drawn into it. Everyone was flying around, and after a short time, you forgot it was a simulation. The adrenaline was flowing, but we came together as a team."

-- Irene Middleman Thomas