By “BUZZ” KING, guest columnist
The telephone has been here for a while, even in Nashville. The first switchboard was placed in the house I grew up in at 227 W. Franklin St. Even today, you can see where the wires came inside just below the 9-foot ceiling.
The switchboard was on the east wall with the north-facing window to the left of the operator. I don’t know how many places it was moved through time, but I know it was at sometime in the wash house (brick building where the glass shop is now). When I was young, it was beside the Nashville State Bank (PNC now) and next to the vacant lot which is part of Miller’s drugstore (the Hob Nob).
Along the east side of that small building was a stone walkway between the building and a short wall which dead-ended at a narrow door with a glass window, which, when opened, revealed a candlestick phone. Later, that phone booth was converted to a coin phone. You can see the round blue phone sign in some of the old photographs which marked the way to the phone. Indiana Bell then built the building in use today at Gould and Jefferson streets.
Main Street and most of the alleys were a maze of wire, as each party line had a separate wire (no cables). Around 1954, the first private lines were made available at an additional fee, and believe-you-me, my dad was first in line to get one. Party lines were not an easy thing to live with.
Our phone number was 49 and was later replaced with L08-4294. Early in the 1960s, the 988 replaced the L08. In 1960, Nashville and Morgantown were the first in the state to test semi-direct dialing. You dialed the out-of-town number (long distance) yourself and an operator would ask your phone number (for billing) and make the connection.
As luck would have it, my first job after high school was with Indiana Bell in the Bloomington office. I first was a lineman and then a frame man (main frame).
Each home with a telephone had a silver box, 6 by 10 inches, which powered the phone system. The box contained two dry-cell batteries which had to be replaced every six months. I would wait, and when I noticed the phone men changing the batteries, I would bike out to Grandma Barnes Road to the town dump (5 miles each way) and hide in the woods. When they dumped the load and set it afire, then left, I ran out and gathered as many as I could, usually four, out of the center of the burning pile. Loading them in my basket on my bike, I headed home, downhill most of the way. The cache of batteries was then used for lights and electromagnets, etc., ‘til completely dead. No telling what the world would be like today if I had not made those experiments.
‘In the late 50s, the telephone was very important in the summer when the state park pool was open. All the kids spent as many days as we could at the 500,000-gallon round pool at the park. The pool was where much of today’s parking is. A pay booth at the entrance provided necessary communication with home. One would insert the dime, dial the number and let it ring one time only and hang up. A few minutes later would appear your parent. The dime was returned and placed in your penny loafer for tomorrow.
With the advent of full-direct dial, Ma Bell made Bloomington a local call, so Nashville folk could make a free call to Morgantown and Bloomington just as if they were next door. What a world.
‘Til next time. — Buzz
