When telephones were social media
By Roberta Cannon
My father worked for “Ma Bell” as a cable splicer when I was growing up. He would climb tall telephone poles with just a belt wrapped around the pole and spikes that were attached to his boots. I think he enjoyed his job, especially with the additional perks of being able to observe many of the beach activities in the summer that those of us on the ground were not privy to see.
I’m sure on snowy winter days, the job wasn’t as appealing, but I never really heard him complain about it. He unfortunately contracted polio during the epidemic in 1955 and spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair. But that did not deter him from returning to work after spending three years in hospitals healing and rehabilitating. He was able to get a desk job at the telephone company as a line assigner. This was my initial exposure to telephones and the various changes in that form of communication over the years.
As a young child, I remember being able to lift the receiver of the phone to hear a voice that would ask who I wanted to speak to. Florence was the name of one of our operators at the switchboard in the Orleans telephone office. Operators were kind for the most part and very knowledgeable in finding people. I would give her the name of who I wanted to call, and she would connect us with the wires on her switchboard. (Think Lily Tomlin, in her comedy sketch of the telephone operator Ernestine.) I could also lift that receiver and ask if there were any messages left for me by my mother, if she wasn’t home.
My mother said she was able to contact the family doctor by telling the operator she wanted to speak with Dr. Kelly. The operator would “plug in” to Dr. Kelly’s line and before she knew it my mother was speaking with him. As time went on, we moved on to dial phones and were given telephone numbers.
My mother recalls that our first number had two digits. Many numbers began with letters to denote the central office the phone calls originated from. The Falmouth, West Falmouth, and Woods Hole numbers began with KI for Kimball; North Falmouth was CAT for Cataumet; and Mashpee was GA for Garden. Later, our telephone number had four digits, I remember that number well because the red dial phone on a corner wall next to the kitchen was where I lived in my teens; I could stretch the cord all the way down the hall into the next room at the opposite end of the house. At one point it was stretched so much the cord hung down to the floor.
We were lucky in that we had a private line; no one else could listen or interrupt our conversations. But many had party lines that would include up to 10 or more telephone subscribers using one telephone circuit. The person who was receiving a call could tell it was for them by the number and kind of ring that was assigned to their phone. For example, if their phone was in line first, the phone would ring once, or two rings if the phone was the second and so on. The higher the number of parties on one line, the more diverse the ring. It could be one short, one long ring, or two short, two long rings, three shorts, one long, et cetera. If the phone was the last in line, a person would have to wait for all the patterns to be done to know if the call was for them. At any time, a subscriber could pick up the receiver and listen to a conversation even if the call wasn’t for them. Sometimes there were subscribers who would monopolize the line, eavesdrop or participate in a group discussion and gossip.
Although party lines were less expensive, they were often the source of many complaints from subscribers. These challenges were depicted in the movies as well. The 1959 movie, “Pillow Talk” had a plot line that had Rock Hudson’s character always sweet talking his lady friends and tying up the telephone line he shared with Doris Day’s character. Her character needed to use the phone to conduct her interior decorating business and whenever she tried to make or receive phone calls, she could never accomplish it. They despised one another, even though they didn’t know each other until a chance meeting in a restaurant one day.
In a 1962 movie, “Mr. Hobbs Takes a Vacation,” James Stewart’s character is dealing with various family members he did not invite on a month-long vacation. To add to his stress, whenever he wanted to use the phone at his vacation home on the beach, he had to endure the local gossip of the other party line subscribers.
A certain etiquette and politeness were expected in the use of the telephone. In the 1950s Bell Telephone developed a movie called “Adventures in Telezonia,” for younger children to learn the proper way to use a telephone. The movie used marionettes to tell the story of a young boy who had lost his dog. The marionettes showed the boy how to be polite when interacting with the operator, how to use a phone with a dial and without a dial, how to use the printed directory to find numbers, and how party lines worked, all as a way to find his dog. In the early 1950s this movie was shown to the primary schools in Falmouth, Bourne, Sandwich and Wareham, and a new program was developed for older children in the mid-1950s.
In addition to etiquette, there were many instances on the Cape, especially following major storms such as hurricanes and snowstorms, when the telephone community of operators, linemen and others worked to restore service as quickly as possible. Here is an example of the camaraderie and support of one another: after Hurricane Carol on August 31, 1954, there were 1,800 telephones out of service in the Falmouth area and 1,000 lines down. Crews came from off-Cape to help with repairs and operators who were vacationing in Falmouth offered to help with the increased load of calls. Long distance call delays were from four minutes to four hours, an indication of the challenges in restoring service.
These days, most phone calls and communication are by cellphones. They are a constant reminder of the necessity and urgency of life today. Friends and I often wonder how we survived without the ability of constant contact with friends, family and the outside world. I recently left my cellphone at home, an oversight on my way out to do errands. When I realized that I had forgotten it, I made a decision not to return home to pick it up. I was amazed at the peace and quiet while my mind took a rest from the dings and notification tones of my cellphone.
It seems that with all this technology available to us that we are personally less connected than when we spoke to each other on land lines. Texting and e-mailing are absent of emotion, and it’s sometimes difficult to discern the real intent of the message. Emoticons, question marks, and exclamation points cannot replace the intonation of a voice, the understanding of a pause in conversation, or pick up the subtlety of a spoken comment. Somehow the wall phone, table phone, even the princess phones at home were more personal in their shape and appearance. I, admittedly, won’t be giving up my cellphone, I still have a land line but even that is a portable phone. It’s not the red wall phone with the cord that would stretch the length of a football field. I wonder if cellphones will ever have “party lines,” I can only imagine the variety of those ring tones!
Originally published by the Mashpee Enterprise on January 24, 2015