“SN 6-1029,”
I said.
“Huh? What’s
that?”
“That was
the first phone number in my parents’ house in the late 50’s.”
“What’s the SN
stand for?”
“The number
of people wanting phone service increased quickly in the 50’s and it was an
attempt to increase the phone numbers from the 5 digits previously used.”
“Why not
just increase the numbers? Why letters?”
“I think
they wanted to give an idea of certain areas of the tri-county. SN, or Snow, was James Island and the
surrounding area. There were others but
I just cannot remember what they were. I
think GA, or Garden, was one. Initially they had used SO, or South, for James
Island but too many people dialed the number zero for the letter O. So they changed it to Snow.”
“Seems kind
of dumb to me that letters were used instead of numbers.”
“Yeah,
looking back, I think so too. I guess they had to utilize the letters included
with the numbers on the dial so they could justify them. I was a kid of 10 or
12 when my folks got our phone. It hung
on the wall by the window in the kitchen in the cracker-box home we rented on
Lindberg Street. It was painted
pink. A friend once told me that
traveling salesmen loved pink houses because inevitably the occupants of a pink
house would buy anything. He never met
my dad, however.”
“So why are
you telling me this?”
“You mean
about the phone number?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t
know. Probably because I still remember
our phone number from nearly 60 years ago. “
“That is
weird. Do you remember what you had for
dinner yesterday?”
“Nope.”
“Hmmm.”
“We had
rotary dials that made a distinct sound as the wheel returned to its fixed
position. It took a little more time to
dial a number. Incidentally, we still
say dial even though we punch the numbers now.”
“I wondered
why.”
“Wonder no
more, youngster.”
“Ours was a
party line up through the early 60’s. We
moved from the cracker box to a newly constructed home my dad had
contracted. We lived there for three
years continuing a party line. Dad had
called to order a private line but had never received it. I called one day when I was home alone, this
was right after my voice finally changed, and demanded they send someone to
install a private line since it had been ordered two years previously. It worked because a lineman came out the next
day to give us our non-party line service.”
“You called
saying you were the man of the house?”
“Yup. Puberty has its advantages.”
“So you got
a telephone that was free of other subscribers?”
“I did. I called my sweetie right away. I didn’t realize hers was a long distance
number. I caught it at the end of the
month when the bill came in.”
“Didn’t your
dad give you some slack since you got the people out to install the private
line?”
“Are you kidding me? I never told him I did that.”
“Are you kidding me? I never told him I did that.”
“Why
not? I’d think he’d have given you the
benefit of providing the new service.”
“Shows how
much you know. He’d have been upset with
me because I had pretty much lied to the operator telling them I was him. Also, he would have had me to blame for the
increase in the bill since a party line is cheaper. I wasn’t about to let him know I called them.”
“Weird. He’d have punished you?”
“There would
have been some form of punishment for sure.
He wouldn’t have considered that creative. In his view I would had overstepped my bounds. If he’d known, there would have been a curfew
or a grounding. He’d have found some way
to show me I had been wrong.”
“So he never
knew?”
“I can’t say
that. He was my dad and he often knew
things I would have sworn he could never have known.”
“So if he
knew something but it wasn’t you who told him, then he didn’t punish you?”
“Yeah. Here’s an example. I hid a bottle of rum in my desk. My room was mine and he always respected my
privacy in my room without my asking.
When I was out one evening he was searching for a church key. He went into my room to check if I had
one. During his search he found the rum
in my desk but never told me that he had.”
“Um…”
“Yes?”
“Why did he
need a key to get into a church?”
“No,
no. A church key was the name we gave to
a beer can opener.”
“What’s a
beer can opener? There are tabs to pull
on beer cans.”
“Yeah,
now. Back then we needed a special
opener to cut into the top of beer cans.”
“So why did
they call them church keys?”
“Some say
because it resembled the look of the old large keys needed to open church doors
behind which the monastery brewed the beer.
I don’t really know. The
definition seems to be guess work to most people. Anyway, he never told me about that.”
“But to get
back to the phone that is a steadfast memory, SNow 6-1029, I think, because it
was our first phone. We had to memorize
our phone numbers then. When I committed
that thing to memory it was put there to last.
What good it does me now is a mystery but it is embedded.”
“Like so
much useless knowledge you carry around.”
“Well, when
I was making my way through my world that knowledge was not so useless. Some things have passed out with the
generation before mine and so much will pass with mine. I kind of think it’s sad. So much knowledge has come and gone. Essential stuff when it was needed for life
at certain time and age. Now so much has
disappeared as though it had never been.
It is so strange that what was thought to be important then has no
bearing on life today. I wonder what is
important to you that will be unimportant to your kid’s generation?”
“Who cares?”
“I do but
that is neither here nor there now.”
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