the old phone on the wall

THE OLD PHONE ON THE WALL!


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 he lped m e 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 u p. I knew what Sally meant.


Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.


Whose life have you touched today?

this is sad

Jenny was so happy about the house they had found.
For once in her life 'twas on the right side of town.
She unpacked her things with such great ease.
As she watched her new curtains blow in the breeze.
How wonderful it was to have her own room.
School would be starting; she'd have friends over soon.
There'd be sleep-overs, and parties; she was so happy
It's just the way she wanted her life to be.

On the first day of school, everything went great.
She made new friends and even got a date!
She thought, "I want to be popular and I'm going to be,
Because I just got a date with the star of the team!"
To be known in this school you had to have clout,
And dating this guy would sure help her out.
There was only one problem stopping her fate.
Her parents had said she was too young to date.
"Well I just won't tell them the entire truth.
They won't know the difference; what's there to lose?"
Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night.
Her parents frowned but said, "All right."
Excited, she got ready for the big event
But as she rushed around like she had no sense,
She began to feel guilty about all the lies,
But what's a pizza, a party,
and a moonlight ride?
Well the pizza was good, and the party was great,
But the moonlight ride would have to wait.
For Dan was half drunk by this time.
But he kissed her and said that he was just fine.
Then the room filled with smoked and Dan took a puff.
Jenny couldn't believe he was smoking that stuff.
Now Dan was ready to ride to the point
But only after he'd smoked another joint.
They jumped in the car for the moonlight ride,
Not thinking that he was too drunk to drive.
They finally made it to the point at last,
And Dan started trying to make a pass.
A pass is not what Jenny wanted at all (and by a pass, I don't mean
playing football.) "Perhaps my parents were
right....maybe I am too young.
Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb."
With all of her might, she pushed Dan away:
"Please take me home, I don't want to stay."
Dan cranked up the engine and floored the gas.
In a matter of seconds they were going too fast.
As Dan drove on in a fit of wild anger,
Jenny knew that her life was in danger.
She begged and pleaded for him to slow down,
But he just got faster as they neared the town.
"Just let me get home! I'll confess that I lied.
I really went out for a moonlight ride."
Then all of a sudden, she saw a big flash.
"Oh God, Please help us! We're going to crash!"
She doesn't remember the force of impact.
Just that everything all of a sudden went black.
She felt someone remove her from the twisted rubble,
And heard, "call an ambulance! These kids are in trouble!
Voices she heard...a few words at best.
But she knew there were two cars involved in the wreck.
Then wondered to herself if Dan was all right,
And if the people in the other car was alive.
She awoke in the hospital to faces so sad.
"You've been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad."
These voices echoed inside her head,
As they gently told her that Dan was dead.
They said "Jenny, we've done all we can do.
But it looks as if we'll lose you too."
"But the people in the other car!?" Jenny cried.
"We're sorry, Jenny, they also died."
Jenny prayed, "God, forgive me for what I've done
I only wanted to have just one night of fun."
"Tell those people's family, I've made their lives dim,
And wish I could return their families to them."
"Tell Mom and Dad I'm sorry I lied,
And that it's my fault so many have died.
Oh, nurse, won't you please tell them that for me?"
The nurse just stood there-she never agreed.
But took Jenny's hand with tears in her eyes.
And a few moments later Jenny died.
A man asked the nurse,
"Why didn't you do your best To bid that
girl her one last request?"
She looked at the man with eyes so sad.
"Because the people in the other car were her mom and dad."

This story is sad and unpleasant but true,
So young people take heed,
it could have been you.