Our Phone Number: The 60 Year Connection to Family

Randolph 5555, obviously the number has been changed to protect family privacy. None the less the significance remains. I am the 59 yr old first born son of a Canadian immigrant. The number in question predates me by probably a year. For our family of 7 this magical number has always been our connection with home.

In the early years, like so many across the country, we listened for the number of rings. Sharing our line with others who might be listening in on a party line as private connections were rare. Running alongside our country road were endless wooden poles, all decorated with insulators all formed in either green or clear glass. Now those insulators, if you can find them, are rare antiques.

Once a month a call would be placed through the long distance operator. With the timer on the stove set for 3 minutes a quick "Hello" followed by the latest news kept my Grandparents across the border up-to-date with progress as this young Canadian girl and her new husband from Nebraska established their own roots and began raising a family. Long distance calls were expensive and money was tight. When the timer rang it was time to hang up until next month.

As kids we followed the Phone Company repair men. Watching from a modest distance as they would replace or repair damaged lines that connected us with the outside world. As the neighborhood grew and more homes came on line new cables would be strung. If we were lucky we would retrieve scraps of cable left behind when they were done with their work.

Carefully we would peel away the plastic outer casing to reveal hundreds of twisted pairs of colorful striped copper wire. Wonderful things could be made from those bits and pieces. Rings, jewelry, and braided chains, what ever we could dream up.

About the time when the new touch tone phones came into our lives replacing the old pulse rotary dial phones the family number changed. Three new digits of the area code where added, and we lost the old Randolph designator for our section of the city. Now from anywhere in the country we could be connected directly to home.

Time marched on, the family matured and children moved out on their own. From half a world away the one thing that remained the same was the family phone number. Having grown from babies to adults with that one number, there would be no forgetting. After being in the military I was told I would never forget my service number as it's a number you live and die with during your time serving. Now some 40 yrs later I understand what they meant. Our family home phone number had a similar imprint on our life.

Parents age, lives change, after many years the family was dispersed far and wide. When Dad died it was time for Mom to down size. Modern methods made it possible for the family phone number to follow her as she moved from the family home, to a smaller place nearby.

A decade or so later when it was time to move into a small efficiency apartment, once again the family number came along. The family could still remain connected through the same sequence punched into that magical device that could eliminate distance, no matter how long.

Now as Mom prepares to make a final move across the country to live closer to one of her daughters the realization that the family phone number will no longer be following her hits home.

I don't know if the rest of the family realizes the importance of that simple number and what breaking that uninterrupted length of connectivity really means.

For the past 60 yrs we have seen Northwest Bell transform to Qwest. We have seen 5 children grow from babies to adults. We have witnessed a family struggle through hard times, medical setbacks, economic calamity, divorces and deaths. Throughout the evolution of this family the one thing that has steadfastly remained constant has been that wonderful 10 digit number.

From anywhere on this planet, a connection could easily be made that would transport us back home in a matter of seconds. Within the next few weeks that number that is a permanent part of my memory will go silent.

Sure we are still a family, sure there will be a new number that will still connect us. But unlike "The Family Number" the new one will be written down and carried in my wallet as new things aren't as easy to learn anymore. The old number could easily be recited even while in the deepest coma. The new number will never match that.