Stories from my Father - The Telephone Company

At the age of 93, my father set out to write down by hand some of the things that he remembered over a long and active life. My brother transcribed these recollections, and I share the last collection in the series with you now.

I began work for the Southwestern Bell Telephone Company on January 5, 1928 [Editors note: retiring 45 years later, in 1973].  The first day's work was with a crosscut saw and an axe.  With three other employees, we were cutting down a large oak tree that was a threat to the telephone wires that ran under its spreading limbs.  A storm could cause the tree to break and fall on the wires.  All intercity lines at that time were of open wire strung on poles and cross arms.  The cross arms were 10 feet long with pins for 10 wires on each arm.  That made a long stretch from the pole to the end pins which were four and a half feet out from the pole.

Most long-distance lines were copper wire...tied to glass insulators that screwed onto the wooden pins.  Many hunters considered the glass insulators good targets to shoot at.  We had to patrol the lines often to replace broken insulators.  Sometimes shooting the insulators also broke the line wire.  Then we had the difficult job of looking for an "open."  Most toll lines [long distance] were along a railroad right of way which did not follow roads often, so a lot of walking could result.  A reply you might hear from a lineman if asked if he had found the trouble.  He would invariably reply " I am back am I not?"  You just did not return from a case of trouble until it was corrected.  Snow, ice, mud and flat tires sometimes made troubleshooting a little more difficult.  I have met all of the above. 

A Lineman's Skill

The first skill I had to learn after becoming a telephone linemen was how to climb a pole with the leg irons called climbers.  Metal stirrups and leg irons which had a sharpened gaff on the inner side buckled on your legs with straps.  Climbing up the pole did not present much difficulty but climbing down required a bit more skill.  And buckling off at the top and leaning out into that safety strap did not feel like the right thing to do at first.  

We were instructed not to bring our knees too near the pole because it would pry the gaffs out of the pole and cause a fall.  And also, not to depend on the sound of a click from the snap on your safety belt,  but to look for sure that it was fastened to the D ring properly.  I still walk a bit bow legged from many years of keeping my knees well out from the pole.  Falling from the pole was called "burning it".  That sure was not the best plan to follow.  If your hooks cut out and you fell, the urge was to hug the pole, but the safer way was to push out and fall free.  Sliding down a pole full of gaff splinters was a good way to lose clothes and hide. 

Some creosoted telephone poles had thin layers of wood on the surface that was separated from the body of the pole.  We linemen called those poles "widow makers". You could also recognize such poles by their appearance or by knocking on the surface with your linesman's pliers.  And the bane of all linemen was a pole on a street corner that had been used for a poster board.  One large headed tack could deflect a climber gaff and cause a fall.  Fortunately most tacks were within 6 feet of the ground so the fall was not often dangerous.  My first belt and safety were made in a harness shop in Cleburne.  Later the company furnished factory made climbing gear.  My old belt and safety are in a telephone museum in Dallas.

Telephone Cable Trouble

At the time I started to work, all outside telephone cables were sheathed in a lead pipe.  The wires in the cable were insulated with a thin strip of paper wound spiraled around each individual wire.  The expansion and contraction of the lead sheath caused by the variation in weather would eventually cause the lead to crack if scratched by tree limbs or bent to any extent.  The next rain after a crack developed permitted water to enter the cable sheath and wet the paper insulation.  The whole cable would become shorted and crossed, knocking out every phone served by that cable whether it was large or small.  Fortunately most lead cable has been replaced by plastic sheath cable enclosing plastic insulated conductors.  That is about as weatherproof as a cable can be made. 

The Failure Of A Show Off

A few weeks after I began to work for the telephone company we had to do some wire stringing not many blocks east of the central office.  The plant superintendent came out to the job to see how the work was going.  I had only been climbing poles a few days at that time.  I thought I would show off my climbing skill before the big boss.  I buckled on my climbers and went up the nearest pole.  However, when I reached the top, sudden fear set in and I was afraid to try to safety off on the pole.  I came promptly back down.  The boss said, "What's wrong Andy?".  I replied, "I came down for my coat."  He knew I was faking because of the cold sweat running down my face.  He did not tease me about it because he knew how rookie lineman were apt to behave.  I became more careful about showing out until I had a few more weeks of practice.  

Adventures On The Lines

Telephone work was not all technology about wire circuits.  If you were a troubleshooter on long-distance lines, being a good driver was also needed because you might drive many miles to get a case of trouble cleared.  And that driving was often on roads where no automobiles should've been driven, or over territory where there were no roads.  Once I was looking for a break in a line between Fort Stockton and Alpine.  The highway followed the toll line closely for about 20 miles out of Fort Stockton.  Then at Honey siding, the toll lines took off through the ranches where the going was often rough.  

I was about 10 miles west of Honey  when the ranch road I was following went through a low place called a buffalo wallow.  It had the appearance of being a little muddy at about 50 feet from the rim.  I looked it over and then decided that I could back up and get a run at it and drive through the 75 feet of soft dirt.  I acted on that poor judgment and backed up 200 yards and made a hard drive at the mud.  Did fine the first 30 feet until I bogged down to the axle.  No use calling either town for a wrecker because no one that did not know the country could ever find me.  So I called the Bell employee at Marfa, the next town west of Alpine.  He said he had to install a telephone before he could come help me out.  He would have to drive from Marfa to Alpine and then east to Honey to follow my tracks the 10 miles to the mud hole.  It was then about mid morning.  He showed up about 3:00 p.m. and helped me out of the mud hole.  I got an education about buffalo wallows that day. 

One morning, when I went to the store room to get my telephone pickup for work, I found it had five flat tires.  I knew the tire on the spare rack was flat because I had changed the spare tire for it the day before.  The four tires on the ground were also flat.  In trying to reach a location of a remote section of telephone lines the previous day, I had driven through some young mesquite brush.  The brush was not very large but it had tire-puncturing thorns.  I was delayed somewhat going to work that morning. 

One afternoon I went from Fort Stockton to Grand Falls to clear some trouble.  While there a cloud burst storm blew in and caused some other telephone outages.  Before I could get all that cleared up it was too late to go home.  I stayed overnight in Grand Falls, and continued to work there until late afternoon.  When I reached home I learned that the storm the day before had knocked out all circuits between Fort Stockton and McCamey.  

By the time I located the trouble spot a few miles east of Fort Stockton it had become dark night.  The cloudburst had washed out three telephone poles.  It was necessary to string paired insulated wire between the remaining poles to restore the circuits.  The draw where the washout had happened was still somewhat muddy.  In the dark I accidentally dropped my lineman's pliers.  Without those pliers a lineman was almost helpless.  I had to get down on hands and knees in that mud and feel for the pliers until I located them before I could complete the repairs.  The circuits were back in working order a short time after midnight.  I was glad those rain storms were few and months between in that area.  The same kind of washout took two poles out on the Fort Stockton to Sanderson line a few years later.  I never did find one of the poles. 

An old saying is that "lightning never strikes twice in the same place".  That is a gross error.  Lightning is apt to strike in the same place repeatedly.  Our pole records proved it.  A pole on the Sanderson line  was split to splinters by lightning.  A construction crew was in the process of replacing the pole.  They had the pole in place but had not placed the wires on it when a rainstorm ran them to their truck for shelter.  Before the rain ceased, lightning shattered the new pole.  So much for the old saying.  

The Move To Fort Stockton

The move from Eastland to Fort Stockton was very exciting for both Mom and I and our young children, Patsy and Jim.  I was trading jobs with a Mr. Sanders.  The truck that brought his furniture to Eastland, to the very house we were leaving, also took our furniture to Fort Stockton, to the house he was leaving.  A total trade out.  

I was the only telephone man in that town.  Carried the title of Combination Man.  That meant I did it all, whatever had to be done.  Fort Stockton had about 500 telephone customers.  I also maintained Grand Falls, Royalty, Buena Vista and a total of about 250 miles of long-distance toll lines.  That meant logging many miles in the pickup I had for a work car.  Where most towns around Eastland had been 30 miles apart, those around Fort Stockton were 60 miles apart, on average.  Some more than that. 

Narrow Escape

I remember experiencing a narrow escape from a serious injury.  I was patrolling the long-distance telephone lines from Fort Stockton to McCamey.  I was about 30 miles east of Fort Stockton, not far from the Pecos River.  I climbed a pole to replace an insulator.  When I reached the top of the pole, I buckled off my safety and leaned back.  Just then the pole broke in two at a woodpecker hole just below my climbers.  

The pole stub, with a 10 foot cross arm attached and the four wires on it, and I, all cart wheeled to the ground.  The end of the cross arm struck the ground one foot from where my head hit the ground. One foot is too close for a sixty pound cross arm to fall near your head, but that time it was far enough.  I unsnapped my safety strap and scrambled to untie the wires and get them in the clear.  

I do not know whether any of the three circuits were busy or not when they were wrapped together.  Never did hear of an outage that day.  Propped the pole top against the stump and lashed it with wire and then replaced the insulators and tied the wires back in place and drove off, very thankful not to be injured.  A construction crew would replace the pole later. 

Ingenuity

A long distance telephone line ran north out of Fort Davis to Pecos, Texas.  It became necessary to replace two defective poles on that line.  I, from Fort Stockton, and patrol lineman Boyd from Pecos were to do that work.  I had the two 20 foot poles on the ladder rack of my truck. We met at Balmorhea and started to the work site.  Boyd was driving ahead of me.  All at once, he stopped and went out across the field to where some Mexican children were leading a donkey.  Soon he returned to the truck leading the donkey.  "Bought him for five dollars," he said. " What do you want with that thing?" I asked.  "This donkey is going to pull those poles to the top of that mountain where we need them," he said.  And we went on to the foot of the small mountain over which the line passed.  

Using our linesman's belts and safety belts, we rigged the harness on the donkey.  Strapped a pole top on each side of the beast with the ground end of each pole dragging.  Led the little donkey up the hill and installed our poles.  Boyd wanted to ride him back down the hill but I talked him out of that.  We put the donkey back in Boyd’s truck and he took him home to his small cantaloupe farm.  He turned in a bill to the company for "pole transportation" and was reimbursed for the price of his donkey.

Like A Good Boy Scout

Once en route home from spending the night at Presidio, where I had gone to clear some telephone trouble, I was caught between two creeks.  There had been a cloud burst back in the mountains and the creeks were running deep over the water crossings.  It was some two miles east of Alpine.  I used my portable test set to call home on the toll line that ran parallel with the highway, to tell Mom I could not get in that night. 

There were several other travelers caught between creeks also.  One was to lecture at Sul Ross College in Alpine that evening.  We called the college and explained he would be delayed.  I had my emergency grub box with me.  There was bread, eggs, bacon and canned meats in the box.  Using  my axe, we cut enough brush to make a fire to warm by.  The creeks did not run down until about daybreak next morning.  I cooked breakfast for the group from my supplies. The water was low enough to cross by then and every one went on their way.  I failed to mention I had my bed roll along and slept good, as I had the night before in Presidio.

The Missing Motel Manager

Spent part of a night in Sierra Blanca  in a hotel once, without ever seeing any person.  Went into the hotel about 11:00 p.m., found no one at the desk so went upstairs and found a vacant room and went to bed.  About six next morning, went back down to the lobby.  No one there, so rang a small bell on the desk.  A voice from the next room asked what I wanted.  I said, "I stayed here last night but must get on back to work early." The voice said, "Just leave $2 on the desk." I did and went on out to the toll lines I was patrolling.  

The evening and early night before, I had been following that line trying to locate some trouble.  Every time I came out from a ranch road to the highway, I met a lawman in a car.  They flashed a spotlight on me for a moment but never did stop me or challenge me.  I learned later they were on a manhunt looking for a murderer they believed to be in the area.  I was also on a hunt out there but for a shorted telephone circuit.  Had I known why all the lawmen were out there I would have gone to town a bit earlier.  Followed the toll lines on as far as the El Paso county line.  There our jurisdiction ended.  The Mountain States Bell Telephone Co. maintained a line from there on west.  Then I made the long drive back to Fort Stockton at 35 miles per hour.  Our trucks had a governor on them during wartime.