The subject of the rotary dial telephone came up when we were joking around a little bit about cell phones. “My cell phone is so old it still has a rotary dial on it”…you know, that kind of nonsensical humor. Sure enough as I was going through a couple of boxes in the garage, there she was! The rotary phone from my parent’s basement which I had kept after my dad died and we sold the house. For you kids we called this added phone an “extension”. Mom had decided that the phone rang at the most un-opportune times like washing the clothes. With 4 kids she was downstairs doing the laundry a lot. I tried to help once in a while and she found out the only thing I couldn’t goof up was the towels. Oh and iron handkerchiefs too. Do people use those anymore?

Well what do kids do when there’s an extension phone in the house? We try to listen in on people’s conversations of course. With 3 other brothers and sisters that happened quite a few times, so Mom decided to do something about it. And it was not to take out the phone. It was a very welcome addition for her. She didn’t have to shoot up the stairs when the phone rang and just before she picks it up the party hangs up. So how did she take care of this problem?

For a little less than four dollars a month, Ma Bell installed a “cut-off” button on the upstairs kitchen phone. The phone hung on the wall and on the very top, the phone man put in a small button that with a simple pull “up” you cut off the phone downstairs. When you finished the call you put the receiver back on the phone and button automatically disengaged.

Well what fun was that! We had tried with stealth accuracy to listen in on calls as kids and were shot down by a simple button. Touché Mom. Touché.

Now my grandparent’s phones were a little different. They had a “party line”. If I remember, there were four parties total so that when you picked up your phone to make a call and one of the other parties was on it, you couldn’t call until they finished their call. Now, they didn’t need a “cut-off” button if they thought someone was listening. Holt Minnesota had a heavy concentration of Norwegian Americans in this community of 100 or so. If they thought one of us was listening in, they just simple switched the language from English to Norwegian.

I loved my grandparents dearly and sometimes seeing my grandfather upset was almost a comedy show in itself. He once was trying to call out to see if a store in Thief River Falls had a part he needed for his lawnmower. Well, the elderly ladies were having a rather lengthy conversation that switched languages at least three times. Finally he had had it and picked up the receiver and with a strong voice saying “Are you hens done cackling? I’ve got to make a phone call.” Then for good measure he said it again, only in Norwegian.

Oh, by the way, my Grandparents had a rotary phone too.

Now we have cellphones that have cameras, you can get the internet and store gigs and gigs of stuff. They’ve got calculators, calendars, alarm clocks; you can watch TV or movies, and even hook up a GPS for vacation travels. I’ll be ready for an upgrade before I learn all the stuff on my phone. The only thing it’s missing is…a rotary dial.