Yes, Bells

Wellesley College. 1986. Before cellphones ruled our lives, each dormitory resident had to serve time at the one communal telephone stationed at a desk in the building's entrance lobby. For an hour, she’d answer and then use the intercom to broadcast to the appropriate floor: "Julia?!” (I miss my friend and schoolmate, so using her name.) The resident would then open her door and respond through the hallway speaker, "Yes, Bells." The desk would respond, "You have a Phone Call." (Just "Call" if the person on the line were male.)

If Julia didn't answer the page, the on-duty operator would politely inform the person holding the line that she was unavailable. I'm trying to remember what happened if one didn’t want to take a call, but since the desk person never revealed who was calling, declining doesn't really make sense. Maybe there wasn’t protocol. So, downstairs you'd go to pick up the receiver, for a conversation right next to whomever was serving her shift at the desk, reading a book or whatever to try and ignore every word.

Boys once wore jackets and ties, girls in skirts or dresses for dinner at my high school alma mater. No longer requirements, which saddens me. John Kasson is a brilliant scholar and favorite on my Master‘s thesis committee.

Feeling nostalgic on a beautiful autumn evening.