Send me a wire

We have had several trips to Kansas City lately for medical treatments. The night before we go I always try to remember to get my cell phone charged so that I can keep in touch with the folks at home while we are gone. Usually we call someone soon after our appointments to report on any new information. We also tell when we plan to return home and even talk about any dining opportunities we will take advantage of either before or after we return home.

One of the first things I put in my suitcase is the cell phone charger, and I always keep the car charging gimmick in my purse. When all that is ready I make plans about where I will carry my phone. Will I put it in my purse where it sometimes rings so softly that I don't hear it? Or shall I plan to wear something that has a pocket so that I can have the phone handy at all times? Trips to the restroom can become challenging if I choose the pocket plan, but I usually am alert to possible mishaps and manage that problem nicely. Once, in spite of all the preplanning I left home without the phone itself. It was nicely charged and I had the charger with me, but I didn't have the phone. However I assured myself that my traveling partners had their phones handy so I didn't worry needlessly.

All of this keeps reminding me of the three and four day trips our family took twice a year when we spent the school year in Washington, D.C., and the summers here in Vernon County on the family farm. Quite often our father was not able to travel with us, so our mother was in charge of this migration with children from pre-school to college age sharing the responsibility with her. She did not drive, but sat on the right side of the back seat, holding on to the strap that hung by the lowered window. (There was no car air-conditioning then so she also always wore her hat to protect her hair.)

One of the last things Papa would say to her as we pulled out of the driveway was, "Send me a wire when you stop for the night." The idea of a telephone call was never mentioned, but we used Western Union at least once a day to report our progress. The telegram would be delivered to him at our D.C. home on Western Avenue by a boy on a bicycle.

The only time I ever remember using the telephone was once when we had a minor accident early in the morning as we were leaving a restaurant after breakfast. The phone call was necessary to give Mama guidance in how much repair we should complete before going on. As I remember it there was a possibility of having to replace something that might be expensive. My sister Gertrude was assigned the job of making the call back from the hotel where we had stayed the night before. Mama stayed with the car and my brothers and sent the two youngest, my sister Ellen and me, along with Gertrude. Papa had not arrived at his office in Washington when the call was made so Gertrude left the message with his secretary for him to call us back. When we did receive the call our worried father said, "Hello, this is Chester H. Gray in Washington, D.C.," his usual response to his business calls. Gertrude replied, "Yes, Papa, this is your daughter, Gertrude." We got the repair done and preceded west. That night Mama sent a wire as usual assuring Papa that we were still on our way but stopped for the night.

When the family was at home and Papa gone for one of his many business trips, he would reverse the practice and send us a telegram every night to tell where he was staying. When we were here at the farm on our party line telephone, the message would be phoned to us and the actual paper telegram would arrive in the next morning's mail. That information was usually sent to tell us where and when to meet him as he was stopping by for a quick visit on one of his trips. It might mean a drive to Kansas City, to Fort Scott or just to the depot in Nevada. Wherever it was we usually had a car full when we went to meet him.

It has been years since I have sent or received a "wire." But every time I leave home I feel secure because I can keep in touch. My only problem is trying to remember my own cell phone number when I am asked for it. I have to promise to call back after I turn off my phone and turn it back on to read the little message giving me my number. I think I am not wired well enough to remember that many numbers.