As a child, teenager and young adult I lived with a deep distrust and disturbance at the mere thought of the telephone. Whenever it rang, I reacted nervously and endeavoured never to be the one to answer the shrill ringing as it was very rarely someone calling for me, and then I would have the task of trying to locate one or other of my parents. |
Using the telephone to call someone put me into a quaking tension. Making a call to arrange a meeting, a party or a game of tennis was exhausting. You had to dial 0 to connect with the operator who said ‘Operator, what number please?’ You gave them the number and they would connect the call, but if there was no reply, you had to repeat the process later until someone answered and hopefully the person you wanted to speak to was somewhere within the house.
I lived in a large house and there was only one telephone situated on the desk in my parent’s study. This room had armchairs, an open fireplace and was where my parents sat in the evenings. No mobiles, no Facebook, Facetime, email, etc. This or a similar situation was the same for my friends, so chatting on the phone was not something that we often did. The itemised bill came to my father so he would know exactly who I had been speaking with and for how long I would have been ‘on the phone’.
Our telephone was a party line shared with the neighbouring house, so if you picked up the handset to make a call and it was in use by the neighbours, you could hear everything they were saying. Thus, you were aware that they could do the same if you were making a call and, as our neighbour was a High Court judge with a rather overwhelming wife, this was an added pressure. His wife did not share my reluctance in using the telephone so finding a gap in the chatter wasn’t always easy, and, I felt, gave the impression that you were listening in as they could hear the click every time the handset was lifted.
Public telephones were also a challenge. Arriving back at the railway station and needing to call my parents to come and pick me up I had to enter the intimidating red booth – once it had been vacated by the queue in front of me and in full view of the queue behind me. It was necessary to have at least 4 old pennies with you. You dialled the number, pressed button A, pushed the pennies into the slot and when there was an answer you pressed button B to be connected. Four pennies were just enough to say you had arrived at the station, and please, could someone come and collect you. Any longer and you had to feed the cumbersome machine with more coins and re-press the clanking button B.
My first job in London aged 19 was working for two senior research scientists at the Canadian High Commission. Each had a separate telephone with an extension to my desk. When a call came through, I had to discern which one was ringing, answer with a very long title of the department I was working in and then to filter calls where possible before putting the call through to one of the persons I was working for. I never really relaxed while at work waiting for the phones to ring – which they did and sometimes both at the same time.
This is all such a contrast to the way we communicate in 2022. Personalised mobile phones ensure that you know who is ringing and you know the call is for you. Equally, you can ring or message anyone in your pre-set contact list. You can set up group calls to send messages to any selected group of friends or contacts and you know you will be connecting to just that person. Emails offer a wonderful freedom to communicate with anyone knowing that they will receive your message when it suits them and then can reply for you to equally receive this in your own time. Arranging meetings or events with several people is now easy using Doodle Poll.
The potential downside is that many people spend hours just tinkering with their mobile phone with all the apps, games and Googling that is available rather than meeting up and spending time with each other. During the Covid-19 lockdowns we all became aware that although phones are a wonderful means of communication it is not the same as sharing space with another.
During the recent lockdowns modern phones have been a true lifeline for many people when they have been restricted to the confines of their own home, possibly living alone, and not able to go out and meet people. Anyone under curfew, because they or someone in the household had contracted the virus, could order groceries and other goods to be delivered to the house. A freedom unimagined when I was young.
Older generations are often heard to say “Things weren’t like this in my day”, meaning that they believed how life was when they were growing up was much simpler. Perhaps they forget that now you, or someone with you, can be out for a walk and have a fall and with a mobile phone you can ring for help rather than wait, possibly for hours, for someone to find you.
I remember the stress when driving in the car with three young children and the dog when the clutch cable broke, and we came to a grinding halt. Fortunately, we had just entered a village, so we were able to walk to a house – and a woman was there – and ask to use their telephone to ring my husband and the vehicle break-down service. I realised it would have been a much trickier situation had the car broken down on a remote country lane. We had been visiting my parents, and the youngest child would have had to be carried while keeping the other young children close to the verge along a narrow road in the hope of finding a house to knock on the door to ask for assistance.
As human beings there is always a pull to communicate with others, whether it be by smoke signals, Morse code, Semaphore with flags, Wi-fi or satellite links, it is all the same natural instinct to connect with other people.
I may have reticence to ‘move into the 21st century’ with many things but I welcome the freedom of connection offered by hands-free phones and the Internet.
Mary A., UK
If you enjoyed this article you may also like to read:
Staying in Touch with Friends – Becoming Computer Literate in my Eighties
I lived in a large house and there was only one telephone situated on the desk in my parent’s study. This room had armchairs, an open fireplace and was where my parents sat in the evenings. No mobiles, no Facebook, Facetime, email, etc. This or a similar situation was the same for my friends, so chatting on the phone was not something that we often did. The itemised bill came to my father so he would know exactly who I had been speaking with and for how long I would have been ‘on the phone’.
Our telephone was a party line shared with the neighbouring house, so if you picked up the handset to make a call and it was in use by the neighbours, you could hear everything they were saying. Thus, you were aware that they could do the same if you were making a call and, as our neighbour was a High Court judge with a rather overwhelming wife, this was an added pressure. His wife did not share my reluctance in using the telephone so finding a gap in the chatter wasn’t always easy, and, I felt, gave the impression that you were listening in as they could hear the click every time the handset was lifted.
Public telephones were also a challenge. Arriving back at the railway station and needing to call my parents to come and pick me up I had to enter the intimidating red booth – once it had been vacated by the queue in front of me and in full view of the queue behind me. It was necessary to have at least 4 old pennies with you. You dialled the number, pressed button A, pushed the pennies into the slot and when there was an answer you pressed button B to be connected. Four pennies were just enough to say you had arrived at the station, and please, could someone come and collect you. Any longer and you had to feed the cumbersome machine with more coins and re-press the clanking button B.
My first job in London aged 19 was working for two senior research scientists at the Canadian High Commission. Each had a separate telephone with an extension to my desk. When a call came through, I had to discern which one was ringing, answer with a very long title of the department I was working in and then to filter calls where possible before putting the call through to one of the persons I was working for. I never really relaxed while at work waiting for the phones to ring – which they did and sometimes both at the same time.
This is all such a contrast to the way we communicate in 2022. Personalised mobile phones ensure that you know who is ringing and you know the call is for you. Equally, you can ring or message anyone in your pre-set contact list. You can set up group calls to send messages to any selected group of friends or contacts and you know you will be connecting to just that person. Emails offer a wonderful freedom to communicate with anyone knowing that they will receive your message when it suits them and then can reply for you to equally receive this in your own time. Arranging meetings or events with several people is now easy using Doodle Poll.
The potential downside is that many people spend hours just tinkering with their mobile phone with all the apps, games and Googling that is available rather than meeting up and spending time with each other. During the Covid-19 lockdowns we all became aware that although phones are a wonderful means of communication it is not the same as sharing space with another.
During the recent lockdowns modern phones have been a true lifeline for many people when they have been restricted to the confines of their own home, possibly living alone, and not able to go out and meet people. Anyone under curfew, because they or someone in the household had contracted the virus, could order groceries and other goods to be delivered to the house. A freedom unimagined when I was young.
Older generations are often heard to say “Things weren’t like this in my day”, meaning that they believed how life was when they were growing up was much simpler. Perhaps they forget that now you, or someone with you, can be out for a walk and have a fall and with a mobile phone you can ring for help rather than wait, possibly for hours, for someone to find you.
I remember the stress when driving in the car with three young children and the dog when the clutch cable broke, and we came to a grinding halt. Fortunately, we had just entered a village, so we were able to walk to a house – and a woman was there – and ask to use their telephone to ring my husband and the vehicle break-down service. I realised it would have been a much trickier situation had the car broken down on a remote country lane. We had been visiting my parents, and the youngest child would have had to be carried while keeping the other young children close to the verge along a narrow road in the hope of finding a house to knock on the door to ask for assistance.
As human beings there is always a pull to communicate with others, whether it be by smoke signals, Morse code, Semaphore with flags, Wi-fi or satellite links, it is all the same natural instinct to connect with other people.
I may have reticence to ‘move into the 21st century’ with many things but I welcome the freedom of connection offered by hands-free phones and the Internet.
Mary A., UK
If you enjoyed this article you may also like to read:
Staying in Touch with Friends – Becoming Computer Literate in my Eighties