Writing On A Wall...

"Hey, you want to see something?"

My neighbor called me over Monday. He bought the house where I grew up, a home my father was building when he died and that we sold after my mother passed away. My neighbor is a builder himself, so as he's provided some much-needed remodeling to the home, he's invited me over to see some interesting sights--some hidden treasures--held within its walls.

He showed me an intact piece of sheetrock. 

"Recognize that?" he asked.

And I did.

Because my father wasn't able to finish the house, our basement was unfinished for years. We had a phone downstairs, a wall-mounted dial phone. This was back when a second phone line was very rare (you had to pay extra $$ for even a second phone line--hard to imagine...). And since none of the walls were finished, when we needed to remember a phone number, we just wrote it on the wall.

There's a bit of a history lesson here as well. Officially, Farmington's seven-digit phone number began with 867. But we only had to dial 7-xxxx to reach someone in town. That's why most of these numbers only had 7, then the number.

I remember some of the names, but most I have forgotten. I think the number with the area code of 714 was to a relative, most likely my Uncle Arlin and Aunt Coralle. They lived in Chino back then. 

Other times when my neighbor has invited me over, he's shown me something interesting my dad did when building the house. We both agree the man was ahead of his time. I've said on this blog before, but I know he would have loved to see all the amazing things that have been invented, especially over the past two decades. I'm sure he'd have the latest iPhone.

I'm glad my neighbor called me over. He wanted to show me the wall before he broke it up and threw it away. I'm glad he did and I'm glad I took some pictures. It brought back a lot of memories.