HomeMy WebLinkAboutZurich Citizens News, 1964-11-12, Page 2PAGE TWO
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 1964
ealmsteoPti
On Our Own
Sunday is the big day for Hensa11 and
Zurich. Switch -over to the new dial sys-
tem will be completed and we will have
entered into the new, modern era of the
telephone which will make way for unbe-
Iievable innovations in the future.
When Alexander Graham Bell strug-
gled with his idea of transmitting sound
it was to the utter amazement of his family
and friends. Even he did not realize the
seope of the plan. Little did he know that
he was opening the door to the most satis-
fying means of communication known to
man.
Because we are human, we do not know
ourselves how rewarding it is or how de-
pendant we are on it. Even when we need
a doctor in a hurry or have some earth-
shaking news which will not wait, we fail
to appreciate the wonders of a telephone.
And because we are human, we are
anticipating the cut -over to dial for selfish
reasons. We want the prestige that comes
with expansion and improvement, We like
the convenience of a dial phone that will
do away with many of the slower proces-
ses that caused momentary delay and
heated -tempers.
But as always, with change comes new
problems. The people of Zurich and Hensall
will know shortly the trials and tribulations
of having no one but 'themselves to blame
for wrong numbers and delays. The wrong
flick of a finger or the loss of a telephone
book will have no influence on the dial
telephone, It will do no good to scream
insults at a piece of machinery. Come this
week -end, we will be on our own.
It will no longer be possible to leave
a message with the operator that we can
be reached at another number. We won't
be able to ask the time if our watch has
stopped. We will not have the service o£ ,
a local switch board to find out what time
the bank closes or when the parade starts.
It will become more difficult to discover
where the fire is or who was involved in
an accident, You just don't get answers
from a dial -tone.
But the switch -over will go down as
progress for these communities. It will be
a giant step forward into this automated
world that is racing to an uncertain goal.
We must keep pace or be lost and trampled
in the crowd. It is just one more milestone
in the journey of life and we will never
pass that way again.
Forget Flanders Field Forever?
Yesterday was Remembrance Day. It
was declared a holiday from the labors of
the workaday world and intended as a
time for recollection. Undoubtedly, it was
misused by thousands of Canadians and is
the reason for the cry, "Abolish Armistice
Day".
"The war is over, the fighting is done.
The world continues to spin and we must
look ahead, not back," they say.
Tell that to the families of those who
lost loved ones so that we might be free.
Suggest it to the shell of a once -whole man
who suffered the agony of war. Say it to
people who are grateful for the supreme
sacrifice paid by Hien and boys so that we
might reap the rewards.
The familiar words of the poem, "In
Flanders Fields", present a vivid picture of
the cost of war. Imagine the young soldier
cut down in the spring of life and buried
beneath a plain white cross in a mass burial
plot. Think of the frightened aloneness he
must have felt before the sting of the bullet
and the bitter anger he knew as he lay
dying. Now say we should forget.
Would you ' take away Christmas be-
cause there are those who scorn Christ?
Would you deny Victoria Day because there
are some who deny the sovernity of the
Queen? Would you abolish Thanksgiving
Day because thousands are too filled with
self-pity to realize that they have blessings
for which to be grateful? Would there
have been an Easter this year if there had
been no Armistice Day?
So long as there is a day in the year
to commemorate the war dead, some meas-
ure of good will come out of it. Even
though many will never place a memorial
wreath or bow their heads in a moment Of
silent prayer, some grain of benefit will
he sown.
It is impossible to insure that a holiday
will be kept for the purpose intended. You
cannot be sure when you give a son the
family car that he will not kill himself,
but can be certain that he will never learn
the responsibilities of driving if he is de-
nied the use of a car.
Even the worst of us are forced to
give a fleeting thought to the underlying
reasons for Remembrance Day -.-or any
holiday. Children come to know the preci-
ous legacy they will someday inherit. And
each year, the true spirit of the holiday is
expressed by thousands who visit a mem-
orial cenotaph giving .visible witness of
their gratitude.
Let us never reduce this nation to de-
liberate indifference and unfeeling right-
eousness. Let us ever pay tribute to the
heroic few who fought and died for the
unequalled status we enjoy today. It could
have been otherwise.
from Then
In the first 20 years of tele-
phone service in Canada, the
standard telephone was simply
a board attached to the wall.
Three boxes were mounted on
it, one above another. The box
in the middle contained the
transmitter, and the mouthpiece
was just a hole in the box. The
receiver resembled the modern
wall or desk telephone receiver
in appearance. In the bottom
box was the battery which sup-
plied the "talking current" and
the box on top housed the mag-
neto generator which supplied
the current for ringing. This
was the era of the magneto or
"crank" telephone system.
Call by number was unknown
until 1884, and in the early ex-
changes the boys who were em-
ployed as operators needed
long memories. When a sub-
scriber cranked his ringing
generator, a small shutter asso-
ciated with his line on the
switchboard came down with a
noise like a chunk of lead fall-
ing on the floor. The operator
plugged in on the caller's line
and said, "Well?" The caller
of those days simply said, "I
want to talk to John Jones,"
and the operator was supposed
to know from memory the
names, addresses and telephone
numbers of all subscribers in
as
To Now!
his community.
Canada's first multiple switch-
board was installed in Toronto
in 1884. By means of this
switchboard, which gets its
name from the fact that each
subscriber line terminating at
the switchboard is duplicated
or "multiplied" at intervals
along the board, each operator
could reach the lines of all sub-
scribers in the exchange area
without trunking to another
operator.
By the turn of the century,
long distance service had so
improved that subscribers
equipped with the new long dis-
tance transmitter could tele-
phone anywhere in Ontario or
Quebec and to principal cities
in the United States within a
range of 1,000 miles. Then,
with the new century, came a
new era in telephony. The
common battery system was in-
troduced.
It was discovered that, by
centralizing the batteries in the
exchange instead of housing
them in each set, the company
could introduce smaller a n d
neater telephones which oper-
ated more efficiently with no
batteries to run down.
Instead of turning the crank
to signal the operator, the call-
er merely lifted the receiver.
This caused a small lamp to
glow on the switchboard. The
operator — by this time girls
were almost universally em-
ployed—then plugged in her
set on his line and said, "Num-
ber".
As local service improved
technically, so did the range of
transmission forlong distance.
By 1920 people could telephone
anywhere in the United States
or Canada.
The dial era was then on the
horizon. Actually, dial tele-
phones had been conceived
much earlier and several sys-
tems had been tried out, but as
a definite period in telephone
development the dial system
really began to be introduced
widely in Canada in the early
1920s.
Since 1924, the dial system
has been gradually replacing
the manual system in most
large cities, and by 1933 small
dial systems had been devel-
oped for rural communities.
Improvement followed im-
provement, both in transmission
and in equipment. The hand
telephone was introduced in
1927, and later the modern com-
bined set embodying in the base
of the telephone itself all the
equipment that formerly was
contained in a separate bell -
ZURICH Citizens NEWS
PRINTED BY SOUTH HURON PUBLISHERS LIMITED, ZURICH
MRS, SHIRLEY KELLER, Editor
HERB TURKHEIM, Publisher J. E, HUNT, Plant Superintendent
Authorized as Second Class Mail, Post Office Department, Ottawa
and for the payment of postage in cash
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From My Window
By Shirley Keller
Time waits for no man, I
know, but the way the days are
going by lately, I have begun to
wonder if Father Time is get-
ting a little forgetful. It cer-
tainly wouldn't be unusual, at
his age, if he were becoming a
bit absentminded.
This seems to me to be the
only logical explanation for the
made pace of the clocks in this
world. It is possible that the
main spring of time has been
wound up Joo.tight or too often
with the result that every time-
piece in the land is moving too
fast.
1 can remember as a child
that time was endless. It seem-
ed to be an eternity from break-
fast to bedtime and there was
plenty of time to do all the
things I had planned ... plus
a few more. A week was like a
month and every month seemed.
like a year.
Then I grew up a bit. Time
grew a little cock-eyed even
then. School hours were long
and playtime was short. When
I got into high school, the days
went by quick enough, but the
years went by too slowly. I had
to wait forever to be sixteen.
Then overnight, I was twen-
ty-one. From that moment, time
hurried by so fast that I started
to forget my birthdays. Now,
one week shoots by with the
speed of lightning and the
months are barely here before
they are gone.
I have hardly paid for the
kids summer togs when I am
forced to buy winter ones. The
windows are just cleaned and
they are smudged again. Some-
times, the dishes aren't even
done before it is time to make
supper.
The entire human race is in
a tailspin. The rush is on
everywhere: People are tear-
ing around in ever-increasing
circles in a dizzy rat -race to get
some place that is changed by
the time they get there. There
is no such thing as arriving,
only going.
Just an hour or so on any
highway will prove it to you if
don't believe me. Sunday is the
best clay for traffic observation.
The drivers sit low behind the
wheel for maximum pressure on
the accelerator. A trip to
grandma's house of to the next
village becomes a life and death
matter. The idea seems to be
to risk death rather than lose
a precious moment. More time
is saved on the road than any-
where else known to man, and
much of it is permanently con-
served. There, with bared teeth
forming a wicked smile, the
average person is changed to a
speed demon dedicated to clock -
stopping and time -robbing. To
the Hien and women pressed for
time, driving a car is one way
to get even.
If there are still 24 hours in
a day, it is a sure bet they are
shorter. If the hours aren't
shorter, the minutes are defin-
itely faster. It has to be. Why
else would it be that we do less,
see less, hear less, live less,
love less and care less than our
forefathers?
I figure that Father Time
must be at least a million years
old. We retire a pian at 65.
Maybe Father Time should be
pensioned off after so many
years of faithful service. Per-
haps a younger man would get
time back on an even keel so
that we could catch our breath.
If this keeps up we will all die
from sheer exhaustion.
Is there any point in pro-
longing the observance of that
middle-aged ` and melancholy
occasion known as Remem-
brance Day?
It means nothing to about
80 per cent of the several mil-
lion immigrants to Canada since
World War II. How would feel
about Remembrance Day if you
were a former German tank.
commander, or an Italian ex -
infantryman?
Both the world wars of this
century are ancient history to
school children, and the old
cliches of the day—"sacrifice",
"laid down their lives", "fought
for freedom"—leave them sol-
emn but uncomprehending.
And last, but not least, it in-
terferes with business. Mer-
chants will tell you, with tears
as big as turnips in their eyes,
that they'll go broke if they
have to close upon November
11. Manufacturers will assure
you that the one -day interrup-
tion of production will force
them to the wall.
In view of all this, is there
any sense in hanging on to this
special day? Why not cut it
down to a one-hour coffee break
on November 11? With in a
couple of years, this could be.
further reduced to a two -min-
utes silence. And within a de-
cade, the whole archaic busi-
ness of remembering a few mil-
lion dead men could be dis-
carded.
Is there any meaning in it
any more? I don't know how
youfeel, but my answer is a
resounding, reactionary Yes!
It is based not on facts, but
on emotion.
I'm a sucker for Remem-
brance Day. There's something
to mist the eyes in the jaunty
gallantry of the old vets as they
try to match the swing they
marched to 46 years ago, here
a stiff Ieg swinging, there, a
pinned -up sleeve.
And there's something almost
equally touching in the vets of
World War II. • They straighten
their backs, pull in their pots,
ignore their kids waving at
them from the sidewalk, and
for a few brief moments toss
away 20 -odd years and become
tough Canadian troops, striding
toward their destiny.
During the two -minutes' sil-
ence at the Cenotaph, I remem-
ber: I remember the two lads,
a Canadian and a New Zealand-
er, with whom I shared a tent
in Normandy. Both shot down
within three days.
I remember rrankie, English, volved.
18. He had a baby face, a big
grin and a run of bad luck. One
day he dropped a 500 -pound
bomb , purely by accident, in a
neighboring army camp, and
the troops were rather hostile
to airmen for a few weeks. An-
other time he was sent to Eng-
land on the beer run. Flying
back ,across the chcannel, he
spotted two German fighters
to attack him, jettisoned his
extra tanks and prepared to de-
fend himself. The extra tanks,
full of beer, went into the
drink. The German fighters
turned out to be two oil speck
on his windscreen. And he was
nearly lynched when he arrived
and told his story. His luck
ran out one day. Hit by flak,
he bailed out and his parachute
failed to open.
I remember the dreary No-
vember day six of us carried
a coffin up a bleak hillside to
a stony cemetery in North
Wales. It contained what they'd
been able to scrape up of Paddy
Burns, Australian, aged 20, after
he flew into a hill.
And I remember half a hun-
dred others: roaring boys,
laughing boys, timid boys, gay
boys, and boys scared stiff.
And when the Last Post plays
their sweet requiem in the still
autumn air, I'll be there, my
face all crumpled and a lump
as big as a boiled egg in my
throat.
Scrap Remembrance D a y ?
Not as long as I can still cry,
and there's free beer at the
Legion Hall after. the parade.
0
Time Extended
Toronto — Deadline for sub-
mission of applications under
the Federal -Provincial Centen-
nial Grants program has been
extended to August, 1965.
The new date was announced
by Hon. Maurice Lamontagne,
secretary of state and minister
responsible for Centennial af-
fairs, and Hon. James Auld, On-
tario's minister of Tourism and
Information and chairman of
the Provincial Centennial coin-
mittee.
It is expected a further
amendment will be added re-
quiring municipalities to advise
the secretary of the advisory
committee in writing before
March 31, 1965, than an appli-
cation will be filed. After this
date, grants will be based in
whole or in part on the popula-
tion of the municipality in -
A FINAL. FAREWELL
With the dawn of the new
dial system on November 15,
six local telephone operators
will close up the switchboard
for the last time. Gone will be
the little services that were pro-
vided by the girls and in their
place will be a cold, impersonal
buzzing in the ear,
The author of the following
poetry will be unnamed forever
but the message contained will
live on in the hearts of every-
one who never quite got around
to expressing thanks and appre-
elation for the repeated assist-
ance of those at the Zurich
switchboard.
EULOGY TO A COUNTRY SWITCHBOARD
Good-bye to the good old switchboard,
With its trials, its joys, and its tears.
Now the dial is installed and its over
A job we've had many years,
There's Olive and Annie and Grace,
And -Helen and Betty and Marge.
They're retired and say it's all over,
And no more calls free of charge.
We have many a story to tell you,
About questions and answers we give.
We wonder how many a farmer,
Will make all his cattle live.
Many memories we'd like to remember,
And many we'd like to .forget.
As like the kind and sweet old lady,
Who says, "I didn't get them yet".
And then there's the blustery farmer
Who has never a kind word indeed.
He'll give you a tongue lashing always,
And never says thanks for your deed.
Many years have gone by and I ponder,
Of how we can take and forget,
Though kindness and insults we've taken
Much happiness fills our hearts yet.
Many friends we have made through these years.
And simply because we all know,
It's hard to believe that stupid operator
Doesn't know how everything should go.
The moral to this story,
Is hard for you to believe:
But just put your finger in the right hole,
So you will never hear, "Number Please".
—Annonymous. '
clwc s
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Saturday: 9 a.m. to 12 noon
CLINTON — Dial 482-7010
Monday and Wednesday
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Phone 235-2433 Exeter
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BARRISTERS, SOLICITORS &
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ELMER D. BELL, Q.C.
C. V. LAUGHTON, Q.C.
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Afternoon
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Liability Insurance.
For Information Abouf All
Insurance — Call
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courteous and efficient service
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ROY N. BENTLEY
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GODERICH
P.O. Box 478 Dial 524-9521.
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WESTLAKE
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AMBULANCE and PORTABLE
OXYGEN SERVICE
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