Boomers Tossed the Party Line

In telephone parlance, a party line was one phone line shared by multiple households. According to Bell Telephone history, the practice of sharing a line started in the late 19th century. At that point, the telephone was not yet in every home, and a party line was an economical way to introduce new users to phone service. It became the predominant package for home use. Into the early 20th century, the telephone was thought of primarily as a tool for emergencies and the spread of pertinent family information (which usually meant bad news). Consequently, each phone call lasted no more than a few minutes.

As early as 1899, Ma Bell sought to make the party line undesirable so people would opt for the more expensive single, or “private,” line. Bell would place up to 20 houses on a single line to purposely complicate a consumer’s use of the phone. By the 1920s, people were moving off the party line, but the Depression put a crimp in Bell’s big picture. By the time the country’s economy was recovering, World War II came along. Many people, whether through tradition, inertia or family economics, kept their party line — much to the chagrin of Bell Telephone.

After the war and into the early boomer years, the use of the phone grew from an emergency tool to one of increasing social communication. Women were required to return to their homes after “manning” the factories while the men were at war, and now, at home and having babies, they used the phone to “reach out and touch” family and friends (as the telephone commercials used to say). When phone call times increased in duration, the frustration factor grew for party line users. It would seem that no matter when you wanted to use the phone, another person on the party line had beat you to it. Some neighbors used the direct link as an opportunity to eavesdrop on another neighbor’s conversation, while others were flummoxed by its inconvenience.

The 1959 Rock Hudson/Doris Day movie, Pillow Talk, portrayed scenes of a one-on-one confrontation between neighbors in New York City who were sharing a party line. Of course, the party line in the movie was used as a plot vehicle to get the two characters together. In real life, party lines in New York had all but disappeared after 1930.

The Rock Hudson character in Pillow Talk was a real ladies’ man, while Doris Day’s character was more of a homebody, career woman.

In the Midwest of Mister Boomer’s youth, party lines comprised about half of all telephone lines until the mid-60s. Mister B’s family had a party line connected to at least three or four other households. Often times, merely picking up the phone meant you were in the middle of someone else’s conversation. By picking up your receiver, a click could be heard by the actively speaking parties. That would prompt a terse, “We’re on the phone!” comment that would require you to instantly hang up for the sake of phone etiquette.

Mister B’s mother was constantly exasperated by the perpetual chatter on the phone every time she wanted to make a call. He recalls his mother yelling into the phone, “You’ve been on the phone over fifteen minutes! Give someone else a chance!” or, in periods of extreme frustration, “This is an emergency! Will you please get off the phone!”

Around 1962, she had had enough, and petitioned Mister B’s father to get a private line. That time period coincided with Bell moving people away from the two-letter phone number prefix to one of all numbers. Mister B’s house received their private line and new phone number that enabled direct dialing to and from anywhere in the world, though they kept the dial and didn’t upgrade to a push-button model. Phone numbers then consisted of a three-digit area code and three-digit exchange, followed by an addition four-digit personal number (see Boomers Dialed Up Some History).

As the Bell System introduced push-button phones around 1963, touch-tone dialing was replacing the older pulse dialing of a rotary dial phone. This technology conveniently required a private line, so it became another way Bell could move people off the party line and into a higher monthly payment bracket. Most households had dropped the party line option by the 1970s.

Do you have family memories of a party line, boomers?

Please note: This is an updated version of a post first published by Mister Boomer on July 31, 2011.

Boomers Said “Happy 200th Birthday, America!”

This year marks the 250th anniversary of the U.S. declaring independence in 1776. Boomers recall a thing or two about the last time the red, white and blue were plastered everywhere, with the Bicentennial celebrations in 1976. The oldest boomers were 30 at the time, while the youngest were 13, making it the quintessential American holiday celebration for a growing Boomer Generation.

The months leading up to July 4, 1976 were filled with patriotic fervor and anticipation of the main event that would officially mark the 200th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Congress established a single American Revolution Bicentennial Commission in 1966 with the goal of coordinating national events in a single city — suggested as Philadelphia or Boston — under the name of Expo76. By 1973, it became clear that there was not going to be a consensus among the states as to the scope and choices of the suggested celebration. Instead, individual states created their own commissions. The Bicentennial was to be celebrated only one year after the end of the Vietnam war, and two years after Watergate. President Gerald Ford encouraged local celebrations that would highlight a “restoration of American values,” rebirth, nostalgia and a retelling of historical events in an effort to unite a country still divided.

The local approach turned out to be a welcome way for the country to celebrate, as it evoked the celebrations around the newly-minted country in 1776. John Adams wrote a letter to his wife, Abigail, on July 3, 1976, in which he expressed his desire for celebrations of that momentous occasion by saying, “It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews [shows], Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.”

Two hundred years later, the country was covered in red, white and blue. Bicentennial Fever infected young and old, and every aspect of daily life. In many areas, city fire hydrants and sign posts were decked out in red stripes, and white stars on blue backgrounds. Individuals painted their mailboxes with flag themes. Clothing for men, women and children reflected the same red, white and blue aesthetic, with stars and stripes aplenty.

The Super Bowl, played on January 18, 1976, served as the unofficial kick-off of a year of celebrations. Players wore an official American Bicentennial logo patch on their uniforms. Halftime entertainment was the wholesome singing and dancing group, “Up with People.” Dancers were dressed as historical American figures, which were portrayed in song in the program.

TV networks got into the patriotic mood in a big way, delivering entertaining and informative depictions of historical lore, legend and myth all through the year. Saturday morning cartoons were also affected. The theme was written into the Archies cartoon storyline, but the ones that most people will recall were from Schoolhouse Rock. Older boomers already had children of their own who watched the educational kids’ show. Most notably, two of the segments created with the Bicentennial theme have become classics in the annals of educational TV: I’m Just a Bill, and The Preamble. One discussed the legislative process, while the other set variations of the preamble of the U.S. Constitution to music.

Massive celebrations on the Fourth that took on a national mantel, like the fireworks display and entertainment show in Washington, DC that night, were televised by the ABC, NBC and CBS networks. During the day, the country was riveted to their TVs unlike any time since Neil Armstrong walked on the moon as tall ships sailed past the Statue of Liberty in New York City harbor. A nonprofit group called Operation Sail, Inc., put the international tribute together, with replicas of eighteenth century sailing vessels from 16 countries taking part. Additional smaller ships also joined the parade. Interestingly enough, the organization was established by President John Kennedy in 1961 with the proviso that the nonprofit’s events would be subject to approval by Congress. The goal of the organization was to promote cooperation and good will among nations by providing sailing training and celebrating maritime history. It was a spectacular display that captured America’s attention. Mister Boomer recalls watching the ships with his parents on their black & white TV before the family cookout, sailing one by one, into the New York harbor. Each ship flew a banner with the Bicentennial star logo. Months afterward, boomers and their younger siblings had posters of the tall ships in their bedrooms and dorms. Mister B remembers that his family subscribed to Life Magazine. As 1976 became 1977, the magazine’s annual The Year in Pictures was published; among the highlights featured were dramatic images of the tall ships.

Mister Boomer was out of college and working his first job at a small advertising agency at the time. He recalls that the company produced menus, book covers, flyers and ads of all types, and his art director complained that every client wanted red, white and blue. The art director proclaimed that after the Bicentennial, he “never wanted to see another red, white and blue project again!””

In Mister B’s area, there was a local parade of veterans and school bands, and a great fireworks display on a nearby river. The localization of the event made it feel like every person was invested in the celebration. That meant plenty of firecrackers in Mister B’s neighborhood, but they were illegal in his state. The next state was only about 35 miles away down the main highway, and the first fireworks stand was within a mile of the border. Any boomer over the age of eighteen drove to the neighboring state where they could buy Cherry Bombs, Lady Fingers, M-80s, Roman Candles and rockets. Mister B wasn’t a big fan of fireworks, so he never drove down on his own. One year, long before the Bicentennial, though, he did ride with his brother when Brother Boomer purchased a batch for the Fourth of July.

The Bicentennial was a big deal, and though celebrated differently from one area to another, boomers had a front-row seat. What Bicentennial memories do you have, boomers?

Please note: This is an edited version of a post first published by Mister Boomer on June 26, 2016.