Phoning home

[Fuzzy Ken]

How things have changed !

It was September 1958, just leaving for school, when a young lad on a bicycle knocked on our door to deliver a telegram. Telegrams often brought bad news, and this was no exception. It was from my maternal grandmother to say that her husband, my mother’s father, had died. They lived in Surrey and we in Romford, a distance of about 50 miles. The “telegraph boy” asked whether there was any reply, my mother said no.

The message also asked my mother to tell her brother. He was what was known as a ten-pound pom, emigrating to Australia about 1954. He settled in Melbourne.

My mother told me that she would have to phone Melbourne and was concerned as to what my father would say upon return from work. He was not a great fan of my mother’s family, and to have to pay three pounds, not far short of his weekly wage, for a phone call, was not going to promote happiness.

I arrived home from school about 4pm to learn that my mother had made necessary arrangements for the call to Melbourne. Because of the time difference, the operator had recommended that the call be made about 10pm. She also discovered that the cost of the call would be a minimum of three pounds (about 90 Pounds today), for three minutes, but at approaching the end of three minutes, the operator would interrupt the call, to ask if mother would like extra time, for one pound per additional minute.

So, the scene was set. My brother and I, with mother and steaming father awaiting the phone to ring, and announce that the call to Melbourne had been patched through. I remember my father making the point that it did not take more than three minutes to say that someone was dead, and any call time added, would be met with serious consequences. Unsurprisingly, mother did not go for extra time, nor did we attend the funeral.

Interestingly, our telephone didn’t even have a dial, you had to lift the receiver and jiggle its rest, to attract the operator’s attention.

Quite clearly, things have moved on since those jiggling days, and I wondered what memories others may have of those long-ago, long-distance calls.

[glalt]

The memory of our old handle crank phone was when lightning struck the telephone pole across the road from our house. It splintered the pole and blew our phone off the wall leaving a big black spot. I often wondered what would have happened if someone had been using the phone at that time.

[semperfiguy]

I distinctly remember a night back in 1979 when I was billeted in the Manila Peninsula Hotel in Makati, Philippines, and I placed a call to my girlfriend back home in Houston, TX at an hour when I felt assured she would be in bed and would happily receive my call. It generally took 30 minutes or so before the hotel operator could patch the call through, so I waited anxiously, and there was no answer on the other end. My mind started racing one hundred miles per hour with anticipation of "where could she be" and "what could she possibly be doing out at that hour"? We all know how young love can be, and my mind was all over the place thinking she was out with another man. I placed at least half a dozen other calls to her that night, and she didn't answer the phone until sunrise her time, and each time I had to wait 30 to 45 minutes for the call to be patched through. The anxiety, fear, uncertainly and doubt filled my heart that night, and I will never forget it. I was a miserable wreck until she finally answered that call. Needless to say, I didn't get a minute of sleep all night long. She admitted later that she actually spent the night with another man that evening. I'm sure I'm not the only guy on this forum that has had a similar experience with their Sweetheart! LOL! Never again!!!!!! Fool me once...shame on you. Fool me twice...shame on me!

[tamada]

Not quite phone or telegram related but late '70's, working in Saudi where mail took around two weeks from the remoter bits of Scotland. About three days before I was due to fly home, I got the 'Dear John' letter from the girlfriend. I already had my flights booked to go back, so it was too late to change travel plans. I will admit that I was a bit upset as we had been dating for well over a year, making plans for the future and this was just my second break from about six months of overseas work. However, I took her written advice that we should 'see other people' to heart and on my second night back home, I shagged her (younger and prettier) sister.

[747man]

Not quite phone or telegram related but late '70's, working in Saudi where mail took around two weeks from the remoter bits of Scotland. About three days before I was due to fly home, I got the 'Dear John' letter from the girlfriend. I already had my flights booked to go back, so it was too late to change travel plans. I will admit that I was a bit upset as we had been dating for well over a year, making plans for the future and this was just my second break from about six months of overseas work. However, I took her written advice that we should 'see other people' to heart and on my second night back home, I shagged her (younger and prettier) sister.

Ooooohhhh !! YOU Bad Man.....