Jon Binder learned last week that small deeds, under the right circumstances, go a long way.

He’s a mail carrier in Concord, born in Bow and a graduate of Concord High School. His boss asked for volunteers to work in the Lewiston, Maine, area to help colleagues there deliver mail, left behind when the region went into “Shelter in Place” mode on Oct. 25.

Ten days ago, a gunman killed 18 people and wounded 13 others at a Lewiston bowling alley and bar and was later found dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Binder raised his hand to work in Maine, along with a handful of others. He cleared it with his wife, then spent two nights and three days in Auburn last week, separated from Lewiston by an old bridge, and treated like a breath of fresh air by people who were suffocating.

Towns like Auburn, near Lewiston, had an up-close-and-personal view of the tragedy, of its effect on so many individuals in that area, friends, relatives, or simply unknown people who, regardless, remained neighbors.

“I was in the Auburn office and from what the Post Master told me, some might have lost family members,” Binder said. “One or two carriers in that office might have had relatives involved, but I did not get the details.”

The murder sites were well known by residents, never to be looked at the same way again. Binder’s appearance was a sharp contrast to that.

To his surprise, he was noticed, he was approached and he was thanked by a population desperate for something, anything, to make them feel better.

Just caring meant the world.

“If they don’t recognize you, a lot of people were coming up and asking if I was a new carrier,” said Binder, during a lunch break Friday.

“I’d tell them no, I was just helping, and they were very appreciative. They were like, ‘Thank you so much for doing that.’ One lady came out and said, ‘Oh, you are one of the ones doing this?’ I didn’t know people would have heard. They were super thankful. The mood was not somber.”

Binder says he likes working outside and speaking to people on his route. He played lacrosse at Concord High and Plymouth State College and majored in business.

Unsure of his future, his mother, Mary Knee, suggested working for the Post Office. Just like his grandfather had.

That was 25 years ago this month. “(My mother) had a great idea,” Binder said.

He walked his first route along Rumford and Franklin Streets for 12 years, covering a hilly stretch that saw him walk 12 miles per day.

Then he walked another route for seven years, beginning at the Bow Mobil and moving down Broadway. These days he delivers by truck, except for the walk needed around Concord Hospital.

“My arches have collapsed over the years,” Binder said.

That didn’t deter him from volunteering for a Maine route.

The gunman was on the run for two days before he was found dead. The lockdown had ended, and it was time to return to daily living. Or at least try.

And that included getting mail. It also included the longest route, 15 miles per day over the three-day period, in Binder’s professional career. He said the warmth he received stunned him and carried him through the extra five miles he was walking per day.

“Through neighborhood houses to apartments in the city,” Binder said. “It’s a lot like Concord, the layout. The bridge goes over to Lewiston and I was right on the border.”

He had no way of knowing that the red carpet would be rolled out, welcoming a stranger in town who wanted to lend a hand.

During his three days at the Hilton, Binder watched special tributes, moments of silence and coverage of James Taylor singing the National Anthem at the annual Battle of the Bridge football game at Lewiston High School.

That was one of the first attempts to pick up the pieces after the massacre. The return of the mail carrier played its little part as well.

Binder met a woman whose husband was in law enforcement in that section of the state and was part of the manhunt looking for the killer.

“He was trying to track him down, and you don’t think about the families of the first responders who put their lives on the line,” Binder said. “There was a lot of stress, dealing with not knowing if your husband was coming back.”

He drove home Thursday night and worked Friday morning, no break. He said his “feet were sore.”

He also said he was glad to assist in some small way. Getting their mail back was important, of course, but Binder likened his presence to a symbol of unity.

“This was not so much the carrier thing that meant so much,” Binder said. “Watching the people come together and pull together just to get through this. They knew that they were not in this alone.”