Telephones - 1 dingaling, 2 dingaling



Switchboard - somewhat newer model



Our Town and surrounding area had 3 party lines. At 7 every night the central switchboard would shut down until 8 the next morning and you could only phone people on your same party line. In an emergency, if you needed to phone someone on anther Party Line, you had to go through the switchboard. Our switchboard was located in the operator’s home and those living close enough could go to the home and he could open another party line for you. Our party line was number 2; I assume that the others were 1 and 3. We had around 12 people on our line, and you could be sure that any time you got a phone call, someone else (often a few) would be “listening in”. At times it would be funny, as if you were talking about something that another person may know the answer, you would actually ask that person if they were listening in, and they would answer you! It was not a mode of communication that you would discuss anything that you wanted to remain private. When you phoned someone on your party line, you would crank your phone yourself, with their ‘ring code’ but if they were on another party line, you would crank one long ring and the switchboard would answer and connect you to the other person. The codes seemed to be that the last numbers were dialed first – number ‘5’ being a long, so our number was 2007 – 2 was the party line, 7 is greater than 5, so it ended in a ‘long ring’ and 7 minus the 5 was 2 shorts, therefore our ring was 2 shorts and 1 long. My Grandfathers (who was on the same party line) was 2015 – again, 2 was the party line, 15 being 5 three times = 3 longs. If a person had the number 2012 it would be two shorts and two longs, and 2515 would be a long a short and a long. The phones were the type that mounted on the wall, with the mouth piece that would move up and down to allow for people of different heights, and the ear piece had a cord on it, to reach the persons ear. When you lifted the ear piece it opened the line. They were powered by 9 volt batteries that sat inside the wooden case. It was not advisable to use the phone during a thunder storm for fear of lightning hitting the phone line, and traveling to the phone (drawn by the current of the battery). My Aunt used to cover her phone with a towel during a storm – not sure if that would stop lightning, but made her feel safer. I am not sure there were dial phones in the forties, but remember, I grew up in the’ boonies’. With the rotary phones, phone numbers would begin with a word. Arbutus 224 as an example would be AR224; they would use the first two letters of the word as part of the number. In old movies you will hear them ask the operator for Sycamore 297, etc. I always thought it must have been difficult for some people who could not spell very well, using Sycamore for instance… am sure many would dial SI, and not SY! In this era, if you ever had to dial long distance, it would take a bit of doing, with the switch board having to dial a ‘central’ located city, who would dial the city closest to the number you wanted, who would then dial the number, etc. When you did this you can visualize four different switch boards connecting cables to allow a line from you to the person you were phoning. And now – you take a little gadget out of your pocket, take a picture, push a speed dial, and another button, and someone across the world sees the picture – (by the way, I do not know how to do the little gadget thingy) and I kind of miss ‘listening in’ on the party line.

We could dream of having a Rotary Phone





 





If you fall off the horse get right back on!

If you fail at something, do not be afraid to try it again. And if falling off of your horse is failing, then, I have had my share of trying again! I was never afraid to get back on a horse that I had fallen off, and always got right back on, but - I did have a few bruises! I remember 2 specific times when riding with a saddle when I parted ways with my horse (but am sure there may have been more, although I would think the embarrassment of having a saddle and still falling off my horse, would stick in my mind). The scariest was when I was 14 or 15 and riding along side my friend (was his horses) when our horses either caught scent of or saw a bear – my friend and his horse just took off through the wooded area, my horse abruptly bolted to the side, leaving me suspended in ‘air’ before hitting the ground. The horse then took off after my friend, and there I was sitting on the ground, watching her disappear. I am sure the bear was also scared by the commotion, as it was no where to be seen, and shortly my friend returned with my horse, laughing his head off! How my feet came out of the stirrups and the horse just disappeared from beneath me – not sure of the physics of it all – but not a pleasant experience. The two horses we were on were normally very calm, as we actually would duck hunt (or grouse or hungarians partridge and prairie chickens) and fire our shotguns from their backs. Because they had such a great temperament, a person tended to ride them, with little concern for ‘really holding on’ – guess we had never come close to a bear before! Another time I fell off a saddled horse was when I was 7 years old, and I do not know to this day, if my cousin (who caused it) did it on purpose or not. There were four of us riding to school, myself, my cousin (about 10 years older than I) and another older boy and his younger sister from the farm next door. Often we would race, and the sister and I would be given a head start. I was riding Jim (what a horse!) and he was going full out, we rounded a corner, with the girl and I pretty well neck and neck when I felt myself slipping. I need to rephrase - I did not actually fall OFF of Jim – meaning that I never really left the horse – also I need to say that at 7, I was able to saddle Jim myself with the exception of tightening the cinch, which was my cousins responsibility.   http://www.ehow.com/video_5238809_tie-cinch-strap.html
 So back to me falling - but wait (if I am falling - ‘why’ was I was still with my horse) my feet were still in the stirrups, and I was still in the saddle – but the ground was getting closer!!!! Jim came to an abrupt halt, and there I was, hanging upside down, under the horse holding onto the saddle horn for dear life – with the cinch (now on the top of Jim) loosely holding the saddle (and me) from the ground. In a couple of seconds, the other two racers came around the corner…. they just started to howl – I guess I was quite the sight, dangling under Jim!!! Like I said, I do not know if my cousin purposely did not tighten the cinch, or if it was an honest mistake. Of course when we got to school, (one room) everyone heard the story and I endured much teasing. Sure glad I was riding Jim – not sure if other horses would have stopped or not. When riding bare back, it was not unusual for me to be on the ground, watching my horse continue on its merry way. But – the most embarrassing and funniest was when I was removed from one horse by another horse. I was riding a ‘work’ horse, part of a team. A team of horses usually spend their whole lives together, and it seems can become upset when separated. My friend and I had been into town and when we returned home the mate to the horse I was riding was acting like some ‘stallion’ you would see in a movie… strutting – kicking up, snorting (this from an docile work horse!!). Not being too bright, we rode our horses into the pasture he was in – then all hell broke loose. The antics of the other horse were so bizarre and we were laughing at how he was acting – he started to circle around me and the horse I was on – prancing.. and kicking up, it truly was funny, but all of a sudden he came along side my horse, turned to the side, and kicked up. His hooves caught the underside of my feet and I flew into the air – not just off the horse – but UP and off. Like I said, many bruises – and a lesson learned. If I ever rode that horse again, I made sure her mate never got close to us. It really is a shame that we did not have video cameras back then, I am sure I could have won some of TV Funniest Videos contests.

Cranks – or “How Too Break Your Thumb With One Easy Pull”

  Before and in the infancy of having electricity, around 1949 in the area I lived, much of the every day life involved a “Crank”. Besides all early model cars and tractors needing to be cranked, gas motors were used for a variety of jobs, that in later years and up to today, you just have to flick a switch and the electric motor kicks in. One of the main uses for a motor was to pump water from wells. On a farm when watering all the different animals, etc. it would involve a lot of manual pumping. The types of motors varied but they all had one thing in common- you had to crank them! A secret to a successful ‘start’ is having the engines gas and air ratio adjusted properly – if you don’t the motor could, and often would, ‘back fire’. When a motor back fires (when being started), it actually changes the direction of the ‘crank shaft’ and turns everything backwards, including the crank you are holding in your hand. This happens very quickly and would cause the crank to violently ‘kick back’ (in the opposite direction that you are cranking). A person doing the cranking would never wrap their thumb around the crank (in the same way you would hold a glass of water) – to do so would mean either a broken or severely bruised thumb. The proper way to crank any engine was to tuck your thumb in along with your fingers so they were all on one side of the crank handle – and use your LEFT hand. Holding the crank this way, if the motor did back fire, your left hand would just slip off of the handle. You could use your right hand with your thumb along your fingers, but – the ‘kick’ could still hurt or break a person’s shoulder. Most other devices that worked with the use of a crank were not as dangerous, but some of them could be tedious. The odd one is still used today, but most are obsolete, thanks mainly to electricity. Some of the things that I grew up with that had to be cranked – egg beater and pencil sharpener (still used today!!). A couple of the tedious ones were a butter churn and the ice cream churn – but the tedium was overshadowed by the expectation of how great it was going to taste. A coffee bean grinder, meat grinder (to make ground beef), A milk separator had to be cranked (slowly). Wash day – wringer washer, had to be cranked. For any emergency, mainly fires – the fire alarm had to be cranked – the faster the more shriek the sound! Some stores still had the large cash registers that needed a crank to operate. I am not sure when the gestetner  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gestetner was first used in the school, but again, a crank was used. We had a small ferry that crossed the river and it was operated using a very large crank to pull it back and forth. Without the crank, our phonograph player would not have worked – you would crank it up to its fullest, then listen to your records, as soon as the voices and music started to sound slow and deep, you knew it was time to crank it up again. As you cranked, the sound pitch would quickly rise until back to normal – it was kind of fun letting it run down, just to hear the slow voices! There are so many other pieces of equipment that depended on a crank – but for communication, without a crank, how could we ring up someone on the party line with our telephone. Everyone on a party line (more than 1 household and often up to 12 using the same line) had their own ring. Our number was 207, which meant line 2 … and the 07 meant 2 shorts and a long, my Grandfather’s was 215, 3 longs on the same party line (2). More about this subject in a future Blog. Wood and coal burning stoves had a crank that allowed you to shake the ashes into a container below, which you would empty often. Some of the items I have listed, because they were labour intensive, took up much more time (compared to today) to do many everyday chores – BUT – there was no Monday Night Football on TV – cause – there was no TV! So, it seemed we had much more time to do many things.  Try turning off your TV for a week - and enjoy some of the simple things in life.

Metal + Sled + Freezing Temperatures = DAMN NOT AGAIN!

The idea of manufacturing a play thing (in this case a sled) that is used only when the temperatures are below freezing, and having metal near the mouth of the user, was and still is idiotic. I am sure most of you have seen a movie where someone is dared to lick a metal flag pole in freezing weather. The result is better than any ‘instant glue’. The tongue and the pole become one! As does any child and a sled, when riding their ‘flyer sled’ down a hill, and in their excitement stick their tongue out – only to come in contact with the (brilliantly designed) metal attached steering mechanism of the sled. So – visualize if you will – going down a fairly steep hill (we did have them in the northern parts of the Prairies) with other kids walking up, or riding down at a slower speed than you. Continue to visualize some poor kid (me on more than one occasion) going down this fairly steep hill, with his tongue attached to the steering device of the sled. To turn one way or the other is instant agony! Continue to visualize, the rider having two choices; 1) Damn the torpedoes – full steam ahead, run over anything that is in your path… 2) having the guts to steer and ripping their tongue from the metal! I have personally done both, and prefer the full steam ahead. When you rip your tongue free, part of your tongue remains attached to the metal – and DAMN it hurt! Believe me, it is painful (I mean it HURTS – TEARS – BLOOD – WHERE IS MY MOMMY HURT!) – And add to the pain the embarrassment that everyone there knew you had been so stupid to have touched your tongue to the sled. So, sled riders – unite – boycott purchasing any sled that has metal within two feet of the riders’ mouth. As an aside, I was also known to attach my tongue to the zipper on my parka – again OUCH! In ideal conditions, if this were to ever happen and you were near water, all you had to do was pour some cold water on your tongue and it could be removed without blood and screaming. I cannot recall ever being near water!

Sports

I have mentioned in previous Blogs that at the end of the war, my parents were not very well off. The more stories that I am putting down on paper, the more I realize that within 3 or 4 years after my father got out of the army, he and my mother had ‘come along way’. The one area that was lacking all through my childhood was the fact sports equipment for ‘Davie’ was not included in the budget. Only once did I ever get a ‘new’ pair of ice skates and as far as other equipment for playing hockey, I relied on a couple of older boys to give me their hand me downs. As I am writing this for my offspring, it is a wonder you were born, as I never ever had a jock. My shin pads, were home made with thick felt on the knees and willow sticks stitched in burlap as the shin pad. When I was 15 I finally got an actual pair of shoulder pads, and proper shin pads (but still no jock). My skates were often given to me by the local shoe repair shop that was owned by the father of an older friend of mine. Hockey sticks, again were hand me downs – tis no wonder I was not a very good player!!! Heh – blame it on the equipment! Also, I never had a new baseball glove, and again relied on others. In the early fifties, the gloves were not made with much lining, and by the time someone discarded theirs, it was pretty ‘slim pickins’. Unlike hockey, I was pretty good at baseball (as long as the opposing team had a Left Handed pitcher) – could not hit a Right Hander then and never could, but again with my fielding ability, and the lack of a great choice of people to chose from, I always made the team. Our school did not have a gym (until my last year at home) so basketball and volleyball were foreign to me. Soccer and North American Football we never played. As an individual sport, I did play tennis otherwise it just seemed to be hockey and baseball – but what more did we need – Oh and Curling!!! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curling  Yup – winter time, cold = ice = curling = (for some) boring. I loved to curl, as did most everyone in the town, young and old. On a cold evening you could always go to the Curling Rink (heated in the viewing area) and watch teams playing on the three sheets of ice. Back then, everyone used corn brooms and some of the sweepers could really make them ‘snap’ when hurrying a rock down the ice. I was on a team that made it to the Provincial playdowns, but alas – we came home from the big city, with only the memory of loses and going to a ‘real’ movie theatre. In later entries, I am sure I will relate some of my battle scars from playing ‘yard hockey’ with tin cans, or pond hockey, etc.