Mel Says

From Pocomoke to College - Part 1 - How my Weekly Call Home to Pocomoke Became the Comedy Hit of my Freshman Dorm

Sometime during the 1950s, direct distance dialing was introduced in parts of the United States. But not in Pocomoke.  In fact, through the 1950s and early 1960s, Pocomoke did not have even direct local dialing.  Most of the phones did not even have dials!  Each household with a phone had either a 3 or 4 digit number. You picked up the phone - there was no dial tone - and waited for the local operator who came on and said "number please."  You then told them the number, and they would connect you and ring that phone, if that number was busy, the operator would tell you that the line was busy.  The operators in Pocomoke were located on the second floor of a building at the Northeast corner of Clarke Ave and Willow Street. I was only up there once or twice but remember them each sitting in front of a large switchboard with blinking lights and patch plugs to connect the calls.

Many people shared a phone line with their neighbors. These were called party lines. These phone numbers had a letter appended to the end of the number.  Our phone number was 381-W.  Sometimes you would pick up the phone to place a call only to hear that the next door neighbor was on the line. You had to hang up and wait until they were done with their call. At some point, my parents paid an extra fee and got a private line, and removed the letter from the end of our phone number.

All of this is a prelude explanation to the long distance phone call adventures of my freshman year of college, starting in the fall of 1963. My freshman dorm was located a couple of blocks from the White House at the Southwest corner of 19th and H Streets in Washington, D.C. In that era, it was, of course an all male dorm. There were students from across the country and foreign nations as well.  At least a third were from the New York City metropolitan area. There were about 30 or 35 students on our floor (the 6th floor). While some students paid to get their own phone installed, most were content to use the pay phone located in an alcove at one end of the hall.

My parents and I established a routine whereby I would call them every Sunday evening around 8 PM. I would call collect (if you don't remember, that is when you would reverse the long distance charges so that the recipient of the call had to agree to pay - then the operator would connect you.) 

City operators, were not used to calling places that did not have direct dialing. It was never easy.

My typical call home went something like this: (Op here will be short for operator)

[I would dial 0 for Operator]

Op: Operator

Me: Yes, I would like to make a long distance call, collect, to Pocomoke City Maryland

Op:  And what is that number?

Me: The number is 381

[long pause]

Op: Yes, go ahead, I'm listening

Me: Listening for what?

Op: What's the rest of the number?

Me: That's it, that's the number

Op: That's the number? 

Me: Yes 381

[long, long, pause]

Op: 381 is the phone number?

Me: 381 is the entire number

Op: And this is in Maryland?  Area code 301 ?

Me; Yes this is in Maryland

[long pause]

Op:  I'm routing your call

[long long pause]

Op:  I have the operator in Pomonkey on the line

Me:  Not Pomonkey,  I said Pocomoke City

Op: [silence]

Me: [spelling] P-O-C-O-M-O-K-E

Op: One moment please

[long long pause]

Op: Where is that?

Me: I think you route the call through Salisbury

Op: North Carolina? (Honest, that actually happened once!)

Me: Salisbury Maryland - on the Eastern Shore

Op: Hang on please

Me: Yes, I'll wait

Sometimes the saga would take 5 or more minutes until the call was connected. It was different every week, but it was almost never easy. One week, my call - somehow - got routed to Rolla, Missouri, and another time to Panama City Florida. There were many different twists.

Now, picture hearing only my side of this conversation, like those old Bob Newhart comedy records.

Our dorm was often too hot and kids left the doors to their rooms open to get better air circulation. The second or third week of the year, someone overheard my attempt to place the call; he thought it was very funny and spread the word. Gradually, more and more of my dorm mates started gathering for my Sunday night call home.

By the end of October, I had a weekly audience of anywhere between 10 and 20  listen in as I placed this call.  They were almost never disappointed.  The city kids really loved this; to them it was like a real life episode of Andy of Mayberry.

The fun was short lived. By the end of my sophomore year, Pocomoke had dial phones and my parents had a normal 7 digit phone number. But I still chuckle when I think back to the tribulations of placing that weekly call.