By Dorothy Denne
I wrote last week about my new smart phone. I compared it to the one hanging on my Aunt Jessie’s kitchen wall in her farmhouse approximately 75 years ago, the one with the handle on the side that you cranked to signal “central,” who was on a first name basis with her customers – “Hello Maude. Would you please ring up Jessie and Earl for me?”
There was no privacy. It was a multi-party line that included most of the farmers along the old Buchanon Road. Everyone knew each other’s ring. So, if somebody wanted to know the latest news or gossip, he or she could just pick up her ear horn and listen. My Aunt Jessie’s ring was two longs and a short. More than once I heard her say, “Nellie, are you there too?” There would then be a three way conversation, long before modern technology.
When we moved to town, we finally got our own phone. It did not hang on the wall but we still had a party line. You lifted the earphone to your ear and if no one was talking you clicked the cradle a couple of times. An unknown voice would come on line and say, “Operator. Number please.” You told her the number you wanted and she put the call through for you.
Dear readers, we are living in a different world. I just made a business call. I punched a total of eighteen numbers, two pound signs, and a star. I never did speak with a human. A computer told me that the next time I could save time by going online to www-dot-blank-dot-com.
God I miss “central.”