This week as I sat to write my column, I received another e-mail with a great message that I thought I’d like. I did not write the following story and have no way of knowing if it is true, but there is chance everyone could learn something from reading it. I must preface it by saying to fully understand where this started, you first must remember a time prior to cell phones when rotary phones were found in every home.
The Old Phone
“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 I 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 phone 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 and 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.’