Don’t Yank the Crank

In 1983, the last crank phone system in America was disconnected in the small village of Bryant Pond. While the rest of the country had long ago converted to rotary phones, Bryant Pond held out.

When word got around that the owners had sold their small company, the locals got worried. When they found out that the new owner was planning on replacing the system with modern technology, the worry turned to anger and the people of Bryant Pond raised enough of a ruckus that national news covered it – even the show Real People paid the little village a visit.

The Hathaways

Elden and Barbara Hathaway bought the telephone company in 1951 from Mr. and Mrs. G. Howard Judkins who were also of Bryant Pond. When they first started, the didn’t know a thing about running a phone company and ran it out of their living room on Rumford Ave. With the help of Bob McKeen (who had worked for the Judkins) and the New England Telephone Company, they learned the art of wiring, tending switchboards, and repairing equipment. Bob McKeen became the Hathaway’s “right-hand man” for many years.

When the Hathaways bought the company, there were only 100 subscribers and the lines and equipment were in bad shape – in fact the lines were just old Army field wire. Over time, they replaced the lines, got everything fixed up, and expanded to over 450 subscribers.

Day and Night

Officially, the switchboard wasn’t tended between 11:30 p.m. and 5 a.m, but the Hathaways rigged an alarm in their bedroom that alerted them if someone called the switchboard after hours. During the day, Barbara managed the switchboard with the help of a few part-time operators. At night, and on weekends, Elden worked the switchboard – he was unable to help during the weekdays because he had a full-time job as a foreman for the Canadian National Railroad. The switchboard was literally a part of their lives and there was little rest for the weary.

Living Room Operators

The switchboard was actually operated out of Elden and Barbara Hathaway’s living room. When someone picked up their heavy, Bakelite receiver and turned the crank, the “call” rang at the switchboard and Barbara or Elden dutifully picked up. Later, they got some help from some part time operators.

What actually happened is that the crank ran a small electric generator called a magneto. When you cranked it, it generated about 100 volts of actual AC power which travelled through the copper lines to the switchboard. That caused a little metal flap to drop down with a “clack” noise which revealed the caller’s 2-digit line number. So then the operator knew who you were.

Connecting a Community

When someone tuned the crank, the operator would pick up and ask you what you needed. Maybe you need to place a phone call to talk to a neighbor – or even make a pricey long-distance call that was routed to New England Telephone Company’s long-distance switchboard down the road in Norway. Maybe someone was hurt and needed a doctor, or smelled a fire, was wondering where someone was, or maybe you just needed something else like a recipe. The operators knew everyone and everything in Bryant Pond.

At Christmastime, kids would place hopeful calls to Santa at the North Pole. Elden, with a deep voice, would answer all of them as Santa.

There were stories about operators getting panicked calls from babysitters who heard strange noises so they drove over and babysat the babysitter. They delivered messages to folks who didn’t even have phones. If someone was hurt and needed a doctor, they sometimes drove over themselves to be stay with the person until help arrived. If a fire broke out, they got the call and then they would ring all of the volunteer firemen that the fire chief needed. In the winter, snowplow operators would use them as alarm clocks by having the operator wake them up at 3am to plow. They truly were the glue of the community.

Party Lines

About 50% of the lines in Bryant Pond were actually private/party lines which meant that they didn’t even go through the switchboard. You could call another house on your party line by using a “coded” crank – consisting of a pattern of long and short cranks. They were used primarily by summer residents with cottages who just wanted to be able to contact a few people. Sometimes, a whole bunch of folks would hop on the party line at the same time to catch up. Sometimes, older lonely people just used it to chat with someone.

When you were done, you were supposed to give a little “ding” to let everyone else on the same line know that the line was free.

Don’t Yank the Crank

This old-school system worked remarkably well for tiny Bryant Pond. But as the years went on, and the Hathaways were getting older, Elden decided to sell. It was getting harder to maintain the system and handle the calls. So in 1981, they sold the business to Oxford Telephone & Telegraph Co for $25,000. I imagine that they were also a bit tired from working around the clock for so long. He said he never really made much money off the business because he had to reinvest so much into the maintenance.

When Oxford Telephone & Telegraph Co announced plans to modernize the system, some residents got angry. A poll was conducted and 72% of subscribers wanted to keep the crank system. They started a “Don’t Yank the Crank” campaign and got hundreds of people to sign a petition to keep the system working. It even made national news (NY Times, Time Magazine, etc). T-shirts were sold, town meetings were held, lawyers were retained, and they filed a formal petition with the Public Utilities Commission. They were hoping at least for a dual system where both the crank and dial phones could co-exist and customers could choose which one they wanted.

‘We have the most advanced telephone system in the United States. What computer can match the human being? The most modern equipment can’t touch what we have here in town.” – Alice Johnson, President of “Don’t Yank the Crank”

It even caught Eldon off-guard, who was very surprised that selling the business would cause such a fuss.

The commission took a year to decide against the proposed dual system and the vote was 2 to 1. The crank was yanked.

Disconnected

Finally, on October 11, 1983, 200 residents gathered at the Hathaway’s house and the system was disconnected at 2pm. Dial tone had finally won and the personal touch provided by the operators was gone forever. It was a sad day for many. Subscribers were able to buy their phones from Elden as mementos for $3.

The Bryant Pond switchboard now resides in the Maine State Museum.

Sculpture is Unveiled

On October 13, 2008, a 14 foot tall phone replica was unveiled in the heart of Bryant Pond. It was created by Gil Whitman and was dedicated to the memory and commitment of the Hathaways. You can read about the World’s Largest Telephone here.

Downeast Magazine had a feature in its April, 1972 issue about Bryant Ponds’s telephone system.

Elden Hathaway passed away in 1993 and and Barbara in 2003. They’re both buried in Lakeside Cemetery in Bryant Pond. Their son Michael published a book in 1996 “Everything Happened around the Switchboard.” Some of the more candid photos in this story came from his website.