I’ve written before about the old party-line phones, but recently I have been in conversations with a friend, Ron Simon, who has added some new dimensions to my thinking. Ron is a fellow member of the Pea Ridge Historical Society, works for the new Cabela Store in Rogers, and is often seen about town on his bike.
He is interested in many things, not just old things;
but he shared with me some observations about the old phones which I would like to pass along.
Back in those early days, a phone was a nice cabinet on the wall of your home.
The case, usually made of nice oak, varnished a golden brown, though quaint by today’s taste, was an attractive addition to the decor of your room. On the upper front of the case was the ringer, twin bells, sounded by a metal striker, which was activated by the signal coming in on the line.
In the center of the case, extending out toward you, was the mouth-piece to talk into. On the left side, on a hook which doubled as a switch, was the receiver.
To answer the phone, you lifted the receiver, allowing the hook/switch to connect the line, held the receiver to your ear, and began a conversation. To make a call, you lifted the receiver, held it to your ear, and turned the crank on the right side to ring your party. Some people also called the crank a ringer, because with it you rang up someone to talk to.
Being on a party-line meant that several other families were sharing your phone line. If you knew their ring, you could crank it out and ring them yourself. Their ring might be two long rings and a short;
or a short, a long, and a short. Each party was assigned a certain distinctive “ring,” which was theirs and theirs only. You were on the honor system, though, about whether or not to listen in when someone on your line was receiving acall. To make a call to someone not on your party line, you had to ring up Central, usually by cranking out a long ring. Central would ask who you wanted to reach, then plug the wires into the switchboard in front of her to connect you.
In the old days, the Central operator in Pea Ridge worked in a small hotel located just east of today’s downtown upholstery shop. Later Central was in a building north of today’s Historical Society Museum at the corner of North Curtis Avenue and Pike Street.
Still later, the Pea Ridge Phone Company operated in the old hospital building just south of today’s Museum. In the 1950s, the Floyd Wilsons were our telephone people. They worked through the changes bringing us dial telephones.
Some years ago, the phone companies introduced a feature called conference calling, a new technology. The only thing was, my friend Ron points out, is that the old party line phones already had that. Everybody on your party line could get on theline at once and have a big conversation! Of course this everybody-can-talk or everybody-can-listen led to a widespread form of phone discourtesy called eavesdropping -- listening in on other people’s conversations, supposedly without their knowing.
Probably nearly every party line had a notorious eavesdropper. It often led to stern words, like “Sarah, hang up that phone, I know you’re on here.” If callers stayed on the phone too long, one could break in, with a “Gimme a break, hang up, I need to make a call!” Sometimes an eavesdropper might get so wrapped up in listening to a conversation, he or she would forget and just join in with an exclamation or a piece of advice. Of course most of the eavesdroppers were women, so the men said.
Many of today’s phones have Caller ID. As Ron points out, the old-time phones had some of that, too. Whenever the phone rang, with its combination of long and short rings, you knew who was beingcalled. That’s the Camp’s ring, or that’s the Foster’s ring! OK, you didn’t know who was calling them, at least until you lifted the receiver and listened in, just a second or two, of course.
Anyway, Caller ID is not that new an idea.
Ron also points out that, like many of today’s phone systems, the oldtime phones had a Voice Mail feature. At the hub of the old-time voice mail system was “Central.” As a telephone user, you got to know Central. Central might be your Aunt Suzy, or that nice Miss Katherine, or old lady Bufford, I mean Mrs. Hortense. If you were going to be away from the phone, you could call Central and ask her to take down a message if anyone calls for you, or you could leave something for her to tell them, like, “Oh, they’ll be in the hayfield all day, you’ll have to call later !”
Central was also the Office of Information. A caller might just want to know what time it is. Or, “Shirley, do you know where my boys are right now?” Or, “Sarah, what do you know about Mrs. Kinder being sick in bed?”
My friend Ron calls the old phones Crank & Holler phones. That is, you crank it to make your call, then you holler into it to try to be heard. The voice quality on the old phones was not quite up to clarity. Of course, with today’s cell phones, the voice quality may still not be that great.
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Editor’s note: Jerry Nichols, a native of Pea Ridge, is an award-winning columnist, a retired Methodist minister with a passion for history. He is vice president of the Pea Ridge Historical Society. He can be contacted by e-mail at [email protected], or call 621-1621.
Community, Pages 5 on 12/05/2012