Earlier this year, mysterious little packages began arriving at the church. These were small, very light packages. They were each addressed to different people not connected to the congregation, and they all originated from the same name and address in New Jersey. The address was the church’s address, but the name wasn’t recognized by anyone in the building.

After trying in vain to locate the intended recipient of the first package, we (the office volunteers and staff) opened the package to see if we could determine the right place to direct it. As it turned out, the package contained a single pouch of lens cleaners for glasses, along with a square of cardboard.

It was a strange thing to send someone, we thought. There was some nervous joking about what unseen contents we might have released upon opening the package, but we disposed of the lens wipes and went on about our lives. No one experienced any noticeable ill effects from the experience, just in case you’re concerned. 

Then, another identical package arrived a few weeks later. The church’s address, but a different name on the label. It was another name no one recognized. Perhaps we are unreasonably hopeful, or perhaps we are just curious people. We opened the second envelope to see if it held another single-use package of lens wipes. Instead, we found a miniature emery board, along with another square of cardboard. It seemed like the strangest thing to order through the mail.

One of the office volunteers identified it early on as a scam, but no one could explain how the scam worked or how it benefited anyone. The sender had even paid for tracking, so it seemed like someone was losing money on tracking single-use lens wipes and tiny emery boards to the wrong address. 

Similar packages arrived every so often. After our initial curiosity and confusion, we just started disposing of the packages without bothering to open them. They each came addressed to a different individual, but none of the names were people we knew or could locate. 

Recently, however, curiosity bubbled up again. We did a little research and discovered how the scam seems to work. Paying for tracking the packages turns out to be a key component. Here’s the scheme:

Not all internet businesses are reputable. Some websites suggest an array of high-priced products that don’t actually exist. Well, the items exist, but the e-tailer doesn’t really stock them. When someone orders an expensive item from a certain disreputable site, the scammer puts something very light in a small package and sends it to the buyer. The scammer intentionally sends the package to the wrong address and pays for the package to be tracked.

Maybe the buyer is notified when the package is delivered (not realizing that it was intentionally sent to a different address), or maybe they just realize that they never received a high-priced item they ordered. In either case, the scammer can provide the tracking information that verifies the package was delivered on a specific date, and thus they offer the illusion of blamelessness. 

Of course, the buyer isn’t told that the item tracked was very different from the item they thought they would be receiving. I’m not sure what the buyer thought they were paying for, and there’s no way to identify the site through which this scam operates. 

What we can do, however, is return the unopened packages to the sender. We might be able to refuse items from the address in question. It won’t stop the scam, but it will keep our address from being used to cause harm. 

Here’s my real question, though: How do our Unitarian Universalist values connect to this experience? I have some thoughts, but I’ll save them for next week. 

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