Webster City freeman. [volume] (Webster City, Hamilton County, Iowa) 1884-1946, 1913-12-02
AUTOBIOGRAPHY Of A TELEPHONE OPERATOR.

out Sylvanville, there was nothing
left for US to do but begin all ovel
again. Lillian had always felt tina,
her candle would be hidden under {
bushel in city with a population
less than half a million. Probably
it was for this reason that she die
not feel as badly as l did when We
took our last look at the smolderine
ruins of good old Sylvanville.
Girls, if you live in small town
where there is just one main street
where you know everybody and ev.
erybody knows you, and where they
call you by your first name, don't
ever be silly enough to long for the
bright lights Of the white way. The
1onesomest place on earth is right in
the middle of a city, where there
are million people and not one OF
them to call you by name, or even
care whether you have name at all
Or not.
Lillian and l were lucky enough
to get work the first day we struck
the city. 1t was August and the
telephone company was short of
help. Until the regular operators be-
gan to get back from their summer
vacations, even little greenhorns
like us were able to convince the
eagle-eyed chief operator that We
knew something about operating.
Oh, but those first weeks made my
heart ache for Sylvanville, and even
Lillian, the lion-hearted, found times
when her courage almost failed her.
We would have given weeks pay
just to have some one call us like
they used to in old Sylvanville:
ELLEN, that you? Get me Cy
Perkins. How are We this mornin'?"
1t may have been rural, but it was
real friendship and, believe me, the
kind of friendship they grow on the
farm is like the farm cream compar-
ed with city SKINNED milk!
Possibly the day will come when
city people will begin to realize that
the girl at central is a human be-
ing. And it is right here that this
story begins.
Lillian French did more to con-
vince the subscribers of one big city
that Central is human than all
the advertising and write-ups the
company ever did.
1t was one morning in September.
We had stood the terrible siege
through the summer-those scorch-
ing hot days, when everybody's
nerves are on edge and as brittle as
piece of glass. But the first of
September, the weather cooled and
we had relaxed in the blessed belief
that our work from then on would
be tinged with the zest of autumn.
Then, without warning, it grew
sultry hot. 1t caught us unawares.
Our nerves were unprepared and
telephone operator, with unprepared
nerves, is not a telephone opera
tor"
During our two years with the
telephone company Lillian had
made splendid record. There was
a courteous, soothing quality in her
voice which seemed to fairly hyp-
notize irritable people. Raw, worn
nerves were soothed by it's tones.
But even with the most unreason-
able ones Lillian was too sensible to
lose her temper. / guess she under
stood human nature and sympathiz-
ed with crippled tempers much the
same as the rest of us sympathize
with crippled limbs.
AS result, the telephone COM
pany had gathered together a choice
set, or rather an unchoice set, of
some of the worst subscribers in the
main exchange, and placed them on
Lillian's position. If subscriber
found fault with half a dozen opera
tors, he usually wound up at Lii
lian's position, and be it said to the
everlasting credit of Lillian, this
usually had the desired effect.
But this fatal morning on the
18th of September, Lillian, like the
rest of us, was caught unawares.
Our long summer siege at the board
had told, even on her steel-strung
nerves. ....
Ellen" she said on our way to
the exchange, this is going to be a
terrible day for me. feel as if
could fly. 1t is shame for the
weather man to send US a day like
this without warning. Doesn't he
know that telephone operators
should have time to wrap up their
nerves in tissue paper and send them
to the cold storage plant?"
Even if do say it, Lillian and Il
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