The Emergency Phone Call

A very long time ago, before the days of air conditioning in South Mississippi, my grandmother, Sadie, lived next door to us in a small cottage. One of Sadie's favorite pastimes was to sit near the kitchen window talking on her new, shiny, black telephone. Her old neighbor and most precious confidant was Elize. One evening while visiting with Elize via the miracle of the modern telephone service an amazing event took place. I say amazing because of the entire episode and how it changed our humdrum lives into gales of laughter and solved a mystery of sorts at the same time.
A few weeks previous to this fine southern evening when all the windows were open to catch a summer breeze, notice had been given to the fact that someone was spending the night in my brothers precious 1966 Ford Fairlane as evidenced by the multiple beer cans strewn across the back seat each morning at sunrise. Since my brother was in the Army and serving in Germany, I was the sole driver of this beautiful and luxurious blue set of wheels and add the fact that the door locks never did work on the Fairlane.
Moving forward to the joy being experienced as my Sadie visited with Elize. Can you hear her? "Elize, can you believe we are talking right now? Yes, I know it's 9:30 and Claude has to get up at 5:00 to feed the chickens, but isn't this wonderful?" Silence while Elize gets a word in and then Sadie continues, "Well, let me tell you about what I saw on the road today..." and the conversation continued.
Meanwhile, my sisters and I heard an ominous thud as the door to the Fairlane closed loudly on it's hinges. Jane at 14, Mary Elizabeth at 5 and me at 20 were wide-eyed and wondering what we could possibly do to catch the nightly occupant of the Ford Fairlane?

Three heads sometimes make one good thought and we decided that calling the operator to get our grandmother, Sadie, off the phone and our Uncle Joe, who was home from Navy boot camp to act as our rescuer, would be the most expedient action.

Carefully, I dialed "0" and a sweet southern voice replied, "Operator, may I help you?" I carefully explained the plight of 3 young women on one side of the yard with a most loud and unnecessary conversation going on the other side of the yard and the need for an "Emergency Interruption" of Sadie's conversation in order for Uncle Joe to catch the person sleeping in the Fairlane. The operator asked if we wanted her to call the local sheriff and I explained how far we lived out in the country and how long it would take the sheriff to respond with screaming sirens and probably how fast the car intruder could run before the sheriff arrived and our Uncle Joe was indeed the best answer to our problem. The kind voiced operator agreed and placed the call to interrupt Sadie's conversation.

Three sisters standing in stair steps peering out the locked screen door into the dark humid night heard the Sadie side of the conversation..."What? You are the operator? Elize, I have an emergency phone call. I have to hang up!" At which point, Sadie began to scream, "Joe, Joe, I have an emergency phone call!" We could hear Joe grumbling a answer across the still night, but did not understand the exact words. I immediately dialed Sadie's phone number and said, "Sadie, Sadie, the prowler is in the Fairlane. Send Joe over to catch him!" Sadie quickly responded, "I have an emergency phone call, don't call me now!?" and hung up. The operator, who was listening in as they could often do in those days, wanted to know if she should try to explain. I quickly agreed and the operator dialed Sadie's number with me still on the line.
To be continued....