i think the biggest change that has occurred during my lifetime has been the transformation of the telephone. When I was a teenager in the 1950s, Uncle Bobbie ‘rubbered’ on our party line to some of the phone calls Kenny made to me. Later, when our neighbor saw me, he teased me about what he’d overheard. Most country people listened in on others’ calls, but usually didn’t admit it. No one said anything private over the phone.
The telephone that hung on the wall in each home and the directories listing everyone’s name, address and number were furnished by the independent company that owned the system and sent a monthly bill for service to customers. Five or six families shared a party line. Each phone had its own ring–ours was a long and a short. Before anyone made a call, it was necessary to ask, “Is the line busy?”
During the 1940s, my cousin, Doris, was one of the operators who worked in shifts sitting at the switchboard in Durand and connected people’s calls. Once in a while, when my parents had business in the village, they dropped me off to spend a little time with her in the telephone office, which was located in a house that stood where the post office is now. The chief operator also lived in that two-story. When a regular operator wasn’t on duty between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m., emergencies roused her from her upstairs bed to sit at the switchboard.
Calls to people living in the Durand, Davis and Pecatonica communities were local and unlimited. Those to other areas were long distance and a toll was charged based on the number of minutes the communication lasted. The fee was lower after 7 p.m. than it was in the daytime. If you needed someone’s number, it could be obtained by calling information.
While Ken was in the navy “seeing the world,” he called me a few times from a pay phone in a distant city. He dropped coins in the slots to cover three minutes of conversation before we were connected. We had to speak loudly to be heard long distance.
In the 1970s, when I reported on the evening meetings of local civic boards, I called the Rockford Morning Star collect so the newspaper paid the fee.
I enjoy my smart phone. I miss the telephone books listing people’s numbers and addresses. If I want to call somebody and don’t have their number, I try to think of who in my list of contacts might have the number I’m looking for.
What do you consider the biggest change during your lifetime?