Sometimes a picture says it all.
As I walked out of Chevy Chase Library last week, this "Disconnected" sign taped to the familiar pay phone stopped me in my tracks.
Cell phones have replaced the pay phone, I guess, but even as much as I love my iPhone, I felt a bit sad seeing this sign. Not out-of-order, mind you—the pay phone was disconnected.
It is another sign of the times.
My telephone number when I was five years old was only 4 numbers—5858. It was the first set of numbers my mother coached me on until I had it perfectly memorized. "You can always call home," she said, as she tucked a nickel—later a dime and later still a quarter—in my shoe. I felt connected to home—just not as easily as the kids today who have cell phones tucked in their pockets.
My sister tells a story of being "let back in" after curfew by calling from the pay phone on the corner.
Anybody else remember being rescued by a neighborhood pay phone? Or being caught without any change?
All these years, I never thought much about the ever-present pay phone in public places. It was one of those things I took for granted. It never occurred to me it could be "disconnected."
Ah, well there it is—another sign of changing times.