The Fair Bluff party line, circa 1955
It’s finally Saturday morning and the neighborhood gang has gathered at my house to decide whether to play baseball, basketball or ride bikes. We’re all about the same age, 7 to 9 years old. We decide on baseball, but we’ll need more players.
I go into the house to call Doug to come join us. Picking up the telephone receiver, I can hear Ray’s mom talking to her neighbor on our “party line.” Frustrated, I wait until the line clears. I tap the cradle switch several times to get the telephone operator, Miss Taffy. Finally she answers with the dictum, “Number please.” I respond hastily with Doug’s telephone number, 93W. There’s a short pause, then Miss Taffy tells me that she’ll be glad to “ring it,” but Doug’s not home. She says that he’s gone with Gladys and Bunny to Whiteville and won’t be home until 2 p.m. Sadly, I return to the gang to deal with a complicated situation.
“Doug can’t come,” I tell them. “He’s in Whiteville with his mom and aunt and there’s no telling when he’ll be home.”
“Then call Ray,” they say.
“Well,” I reply. “I know his mom is home.”
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