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When I was
quite young,
my father
had one of
the first
telephones
in our
neighborhood.
I remember
the
polished,
old case
fastened to
the wall.
The shiny
receiver
hung on the
side of the
box.
I was too
little to
reach the
telephone,
but used to
listen with
fascination
when my
mother
talked to
it.
Then I
discovered
that
somewhere
inside the
wonderful
device lived
an amazing
person.
Her name was
"Information
Please" and
there was
nothing she
did not
know.
Information
Please
could supply
anyone's
number and
the correct
time.
My personal
experience
with the
genie-in-a-bottle
came one day
while my
mother was
visiting a
neighbor.
Amusing
myself at
the tool
bench in the
basement, I
whacked my
finger with
a hammer,
the pain was
terrible,
but there
seemed no
point in
crying because
there was no
one home to
give
sympathy.
I walked
around the
house
sucking my
throbbing
finger,
finally
arriving at
the
stairway.
The
telephone!
Quickly, I
ran for the
footstool in
the parlor
and dragged
it to the
landing
Climbing
up,
I unhooked
the receiver
in the
parlor and
held it to
my ear.
"Information,
please"
I said into
the
mouthpiece
just above
my head.
A click or
two and a
small clear
voice spoke
into my ear.
"Information."
"I hurt my
finger..." I
wailed into
the phone,
the tears
came readily
enough now
that I had
an audience.
" Isn't
your mother
home?" came
the
question.
"Nobody's
home but
me," I
blubbered.
"Are you
bleeding?"
the voice
asked.
"No," I
replied.
"I hit my
finger with
the hammer
and it
hurts."
"Can you
open the
icebox?" she
asked.
I said I
could.
"Then chip
off a little
bit of ice
and hold it
to your
finger,"
said the
voice.
After that,
I called
"Information
Please" for
everything.
I asked her
for help
with my
geography,
and she told
me where
Philadelphia
was.
She helped
me with my
math.
She told me
my pet
chipmunk
that I had
caught in
the park
just the day
before,
would eat
fruit and
nuts.
Then, there
was the time
Petey, our
pet canary,
died.
I called,
Information
Please," and
told her the
sad story.
She
listened,
and then
said things
grown-ups
say to
soothe a
child.
But I was
not
consoled. I
asked her,
"Why is it
that birds
should sing
so
beautifully
and bring
joy to all
families,
only to end
up as a heap
of feathers
on the
bottom of a
cage?"
She must
have sensed
my deep
concern, for
she said
quietly, "Wayne
always
remember
that there
are other
worlds to
sing in."
Somehow I
felt better.
Another day
I was on the
telephone,
"Information
Please."
"Information,"
said in the
now familiar
voice.
"How do I
spell fix?"
I asked.
All this
took place
in a small
town in the
Pacific
Northwest.
When I was
nine years
old, we
moved across
the country
to
Boston.
I missed my
friend very
much.
"Information
Please"
belonged in
that old
wooden box
back home
and I
somehow
never
thought of
trying the
shiny new
phone that
sat on the
table in the
hall. As I
grew into my
teens, the
memories of
those
childhood
conversations
never really
left me.
Often, in
moments of
doubt and
perplexity I
would recall
the serene
sense of
security I
had then.
I
appreciated
now how
patient,
understanding,
and kind she
was to have
spent her
time on a
little boy.
A few years
later, on my
way west to
college, my
plane put
down in
Seattle.
I had about
a half-hour
or so
between
planes.
I spent 15
minutes or
so on
the phone
with my
sister, who
lived there
now.
Then without
thinking
what I was
doing, I
dialed my
hometown
Operator and
said,
"Information
Please."
Miraculously,
I heard the
small, clear
voice I knew
so well.
"Information."
I hadn't
planned
this, but I
heard myself
saying,
"Could you
please tell
me how to
spell fix?"
There was a
long pause.
Then
came
the soft
spoken
answer,
"I guess
your finger
must have
healed by
now."
I laughed,
"So it's
really you,"
I said. "
I wonder if
you have any
idea how
much you
meant to me
during that
time?"
I wonder,"
she said,
"if you know
how much
your call
meant to me.
I never had
any children
and I used
to look
forward to
your calls."
I told her
how often I
had thought
of her over
the years
and I asked
if I could
call her
again when I
came back to
visit my
sister.
"Please do",
she said.
"Just ask
for Sally."
Three months
later I was
back in
Seattle.
A different
voice
answered
"Information."
I asked for
Sally.
"Are you a
friend?" she
said.
"Yes, a very
old friend,"
I answered.
"I'm sorry
to have to
tell you
this," she
said.
"Sally had
been working
part-time
the last few
years
because she
was sick.
She died
five weeks
ago."
Before I
could hang
up she said,
"Wait a
minute, did
you say your
name was
Wayne?"
"Yes." I
answered.
"Well, Sally
left a
message for
you. She
wrote it
down in case
you called.
Let me read
it to you."
The note
said, "Tell
him there
are other
worlds to
sing in.
He'll know
what I
mean."
I thanked
her and hung
up. I knew
what Sally
meant.
Never
underestimate
the
impression
you may make
on others.
Whose life
have you
touched
today?
Lifting you
on eagle's
wings.
May you find
the joy and
peace you
long
for.
Life is a
journey ...
NOT a guided
tour.
-
So don't
miss the
ride and
have a great
time going
around you
don't get a
second shot
at it.
-
I loved this
story and
just had to
pass it on.
-
I hope you
enjoy it and
get a
blessing
from it just
as I
did
.
Here is a
bit of
interesting
trivia, were
it not for
good old
Samuel who
knows how we
would have
communicated
electronically!
January 6,
1838 : Morse
demonstrates
telegraph
On this day
in 1838,
Samuel
Morse's
telegraph
system is
demonstrated
for the
first time
at the
Speedwell
Iron Works
in
Morristown,
New Jersey.
The
telegraph, a
device which
used
electric
impulses to
transmit
encoded
messages
over a wire,
would
eventually
revolutionize
long-distance
communication,
reaching the
height of
its
popularity
in the 1920s
and 1930s.
Samuel
Finley
Breese Morse
was born
April 27,
1791, in
Charlestown,
Massachusetts.
He attended
Yale
University,
where he was
interested
in art, as
well as
electricity,
still in its
infancy at
the time.
After
college,
Morse became
a painter.
In 1832,
while
sailing home
from Europe,
he heard
about the
newly
discovered
electromagnet
and came up
with an idea
for an
electric
telegraph.
He had no
idea that
other
inventors
were already
at work on
the concept.
Morse spent
the next
several
years
developing a
prototype
and took on
two
partners,
Leonard Gale
and Alfred
Vail, to
help him. In
1838, he
demonstrated
his
invention
using Morse
code, in
which dots
and dashes
represented
letters and
numbers.
In 1843,
Morse
finally
convinced a
skeptical
Congress to
fund the
construction
of the first
telegraph
line in the
United
States, from
Washington,
D.C., to
Baltimore.
In May 1844,
Morse sent
the first
official
telegram
over the
line, with
the message:
"What hath
God
wrought!"
Over the
next few
years,
private
companies,
using
Morse's
patent, set
up telegraph
lines around
the
Northeast.
In 1851, the
New York and
Mississippi
Valley
Printing
Telegraph
Company was
founded; it
would later
change its
name to
Western
Union. In
1861,
Western
Union
finished the
first
transcontinental
line across
the United
States. Five
years later,
the first
successful
permanent
line across
the Atlantic
Ocean was
constructed
and by the
end of the
century
telegraph
systems were
in place in
Africa, Asia
and
Australia.
Because
telegraph
companies
typically
charged by
the word,
telegrams
became known
for their
succinct
prose--whether
they
contained
happy or sad
news. The
word "stop,"
which was
free, was
used in
place of a
period, for
which there
was a
charge. In
1933,
Western
Union
introduced
singing
telegrams.
During World
War II,
Americans
came to
dread the
sight of
Western
Union
couriers
because the
military
used
telegrams to
inform
families
about
soldiers'
deaths.
Over the
course of
the 20th
century,
telegraph
messages
were largely
replaced by
cheap
long-distance
phone
service,
faxes and
email.
Western
Union
delivered
its final
telegram in
January
2006.
Samuel Morse
died wealthy
and famous
in New York
City on
April 2,
1872, at age
80.
- Where do old land line phones go?
- Everyone of these sheep is made from telephones and cords. Check out their feet!!!
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