A longtime USPS employee collapsed and died while delivering mail in Grand Junction last Friday. His loss has sent shockwaves through the postal service and the community he faithfully served.

Dan Workman, 59, spent nearly a decade walking the same streets, chatting with neighbors, handing off letters and packages with a warm nod or smile. On May 30, during what seemed like just another workday, he didn’t make it back.

A Routine That Suddenly Wasn’t

Workman was partway through his regular mail route when he died. That detail alone hits hard for people who knew him—because the routine was so familiar, so steady.

He wasn’t just any postal worker. According to the National Association of Letter Carriers Branch 913, Workman had been with the U.S. Postal Service for nine years. Eric Salazar, the local NALC president, described him as “highly esteemed” by both his coworkers and customers.

His voice cracked while giving the statement, saying, “This devastating event has had a profound impact on our NALC and USPS community.”

Workman died doing the job he loved.

Sudden, Shocking, and Still Unexplained

No official cause of death has been confirmed as of Tuesday morning. The USPS, through its Denver regional office, expressed sorrow and surprise over Workman’s passing, calling it “shocking and tragic.”

There were no visible signs of external trauma, and early reports suggest a possible medical episode. But until the coroner’s report is released, those who knew him are left with unanswered questions.

One colleague, who asked not to be named, said Dan had joked earlier that week about needing to “slow down a little.” No one thought anything of it at the time.

Now, those offhand words echo with eerie weight.

Not Just a Mail Carrier, But a Familiar Face

Ask around Grand Junction and you’ll find that Workman was more than just a USPS badge number.

He remembered birthdays. He checked in on elderly residents. One neighbor said he used to leave treats for her dog every Thursday.

That’s the thing about people like Dan Workman—quiet, consistent presences in the community. You don’t realize just how much they’re part of your daily life until they’re not there anymore.

• He’d worked the same route for years, often waving to kids as they biked past.
• He was known for double-checking parcels and taking care not to bend important letters.
• Residents said he’d often walk his route even in snowstorms instead of waiting for a truck.

“He was just… steady,” one man said. “You trusted him. You liked seeing him. You knew the mail was in good hands.”

USPS Mourns One of Their Own

The postal service may be one of the country’s oldest federal institutions, but it’s built on the backs of workers like Dan—people who know their routes better than their own driveways.

In a formal statement, the USPS Denver branch said, “We are shocked and saddened to learn of such a tragic death of one of our own employees and coworkers…Our thoughts and deepest sympathies go out to his family and friends, including the people he worked with at the postal service.”

His colleagues are reeling.

Eric Salazar, president of NALC Branch 913, confirmed grief counselors have been made available. “Some of us have worked next to Dan for nearly a decade,” he said. “He wasn’t just a colleague—he was our brother.”

A memorial is reportedly being planned, though no date has been finalized.

The Heat Was Rising. So Are Concerns.

While the official cause of death remains unknown, Workman’s death occurred on a hot Friday afternoon. The temperature in Grand Junction that day hovered near 89°F.

For letter carriers, especially those on foot, those kinds of days aren’t just uncomfortable—they can be dangerous.

Heat stress, dehydration, and exhaustion are common risks for postal workers in the summer months. And it’s not the first time tragedy has struck the USPS under the sun.

In 2018, a 63-year-old mail carrier in Los Angeles died in her truck on a 117°F day. She had no air conditioning.

Though there’s no direct connection yet, Workman’s passing is prompting quiet discussions behind the scenes about working conditions, especially as climate extremes grow more frequent.

One carrier said flatly, “We’re not invincible. We carry mail, not capes.”

Flags at Half-Staff, Hearts at Half-Capacity

At the Grand Junction post office, the American flag flew at half-staff Monday morning. Inside, it was even heavier.

There were hugs between employees, long silences between rounds, and more than a few tears.

“Dan had a rhythm,” one coworker said. “You’d hear his keys jingling and know he was coming around the corner. Now it’s just quiet.”

For a service built on punctuality and precision, grief throws off everything.

People paused mid-shift. Conversations faltered. The break room was unusually quiet.

But the mail went out. It always does.

And maybe that’s the part Dan would’ve appreciated most.