S º | ___ / \ |,7%//%|- ſººſ ( )|- №.| N. | \\ THE - TFLEDHONE º Library HE 73] 3 ºf MESSAGE cae) |- UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN LIBRAR tº THE TELEPHONE'S MESSAGE mean that I am the instrument within reach of your hand, a thing of rubber and metal; a me- chanical contrivance which is, it is to be granted, one of the most useful of the tools with which the work of everyday life is done, but still an inanimate piece of apparatus. Or you may mean that I am something more than this. You may think of me as a personality, reflecting the aims, the ambitions and the pride of achievement of the hundreds of thousands of men and women who have helped me to become what I am. You may think of me as the expression of the romance of a more than nation- N YOU CALL ME THE TELEPHONE. By that you may wide service. You may think of me as embodying all the traditions of the years during which this service has been in the making. I am not simply a thing. I am also a thought. As a de- vice, the telephone is not today what its inventor origin- ally designed. As an ideal—as a conception of an op- portunity for service—the telephone is now essentially what it has been from the first, though this ideal has undergone a long process of realization, of gradual evo- lution which has given it an ever-widening horizon. It is, therefore, of the telephone-thought, rather than the telephone-thing, that I ask you to think as I tell you of the early days of my romantic career. At first I was only a vague idea in the mind of Alex- ander Graham Bell, a young Scotch-American who had a school in Boston in which he taught a system known as “Visible Speech,” devised by his father for training people in good speaking and adopted by Bell himself “Finally . . . a telephone first spoke a complete sentence clearly.” G [2] º Transportation Library HE 37 31 B 27 "I was . . . no longer a speechless babe, but I was still a child.” as a means of enabling the deaf to overcome their han- dicap. Then, on June 2, 1875, he invented me and I was born. That day I became a completed thought with a body that would make real the life and the power to grow inherent in that thought. That day Bell found out how to produce the undulatory current that was essen- tial for the electrical transmission of speech. That eve- ning Bell gave his young assistant, Thomas A. Watson, the directions for making the first physical telephone. The instrument Watson brought to him the next day was the first of many devices through which I was later to serve mankind. For you may think of me, the telephone-thought, as preceding a great family of telephone-things—trans- mitters and receivers, switchboards, cables, repeater- station apparatus and other pieces of equipment almost without number—that have been created as a result of telephone research and experimentation. All of these Bell's discovery made possible. He soon retired from active participation in the development of his inven- tion, but I remained, a vital principle to inspire the minds of others. [3] The first telephone was born speechless, like every other infant. Other telephones followed in the months between June, 1875, and March, 1876. Some of them could utter strange, unintelligible sounds, some could feebly lisp a word or two, but none could really speak. All of them, however, were advances in the develop- ment of the telephone thought; all of them were steps in the evolution of Bell's idea. I was beginning to grow. Finally, on March 10, 1876, a telephone, somewhat different in form from those which had preceded it, first spoke a complete sentence clearly. This sentence was spoken by Bell to his young assistant. It was: “Mr. Watson, come here, I want you.” With the speaking of that first tele- phone sentence, I became something more than an idea—I grew into an ideal. As soon as Bell proved his inven- tion practical, he visualized it as an in- strumentality of service. He saw homes linked with offices; physicians put into touch with their patients; the isolation of farms swept aside; cities bound to- gether with the bonds of speech. As early as 1878 this practical dream- er prophesied: “I had to . . . speak more “It is conceivable that cables clearly . . .” of telephone wires could be laid underground, or suspended over head, communicating by branch wires with pri- vate dwellings, country houses, shops, man- [4] ufactories, etc., unit in g the m through the main cable with a cen- tral office where the wire could be connected as de- sired, establishing direct communi- cation between any two places in the city. *** Not only so, but I believe that in the future wires will unite the head offices of the Telephone Company in dif- “. . . means must be found to ferent cities, and a put the wires underground.” man in one part of the country may communicate by word of mouth with another in a distant place.” The telephone was still hardly more than a thought —but a thought with vastly expanded horizons. This idea and this ideal were Bell's great contribu- tions to the art of communications and to the world. It remained for his successors to transform his hopes into realities. Thus, mine is not simply the story of an instrument. It is the story of an inspiration as well—of the growth of the instrumentality of international service of which you now think when you speak of The Telephone. [5] To say that the early years of telephone history were the years of my childhood is to do much more than to use a picturesque metaphor. The problems which Bell and his associates faced were literally those any parent faces. I was, it is true, no longer a speechless babe, but I was still a child. I had to be nourished, that I might grow in strength. I had to be trained, that I might per- form my task aright. I had to be taught to speak more clearly, and with greater power, than I had spoken on that March day when I uttered my first sentence. There was, first of all, the problem of obtaining capi- tal, which is the food with which new inventions and new instrumentalities of public service must be nur- tured. Gardiner G. Hubbard and Thomas Sanders un- dertook the task of developing the telephone commer- cially, Mr. Hubbard supplying the business direction “New instruments . . . each with some slight improvement . . .” [6] “So I have added to the carrying power of my voice . . .” with masterly ability and Mr. Sanders supplying the money with lavish faith and generosity. Capital from outside sources was naturally at first difficult to obtain. Investors could not be persuaded that I would ever grow up to earn my own living and to be of use in the world. And so there were days of the deepest discour- agement for those who had undertaken the task of the telephone's upbringing—days when the child all but died of a financial malady that was very like starvation. Even in these days, however, the thought that was later to become a nation-wide service persisted. The ideal remained, though progress in attaining it was slow. Physically, I was a weak child, but I had a spirit- ual quality, acquired from these men of faith who were 7 J the pioneers of telephone history, which helped me to carry on. I survived. But I had much to learn, in those early years when I was being fitted for my work in the world. On that March day when I first learned to speak, the Art of Telephony was represented by one telephone transmit- ter, a wire running from one room down the hall to an- other room, and a simple telegraph instrument to serve as a receiver. While my words could be heard clearly, they were not very loud even over this short distance. Obviously I must be taught to strengthen my voice if I were to become the instrumentality of the widespread service of which Bell and his fellows dreamed. The laboratory became my schoolroom. Patiently, little by little, I learned to extend the reach of my voice. New instruments appeared, each with some slight im- provement over those that had gone before. In a steady, arduous process that was strangely like the “line upon line, precept upon precept,” of which the sage of old a service which enters so intimately into the lives of those who use it.” [8] # - -- "Great improvements have been made in cables . . . had written, I learned to widen my horizon—to in- crease the scope of my service. This was accomplished, not alone by improvements in the telephone instrument itself, but in other appara- tus and equipment that was necessary in order to enable it to carry man's voice to a distant point. Iron wires— single wires with a “ground return”—were replaced by a pair of wires of a special form of copper, hard-drawn to make it suitable for the purpose to which it was to be put. As time went on, other improvements were found, which increased the carrying power of the spoken word. Within two decades, telephone lines linked many of the larger cities of the East. With further refinements in apparatus and transmis- sion equipment, I began to provide a service for which “Long Distance” was more than a mere name. In 1892 the telephone first united New York and Chicago. For some years, this appeared to be the limit of the distance over which man's voice could travel by wire. The tele- phone current becomes gradually weaker and weaker the farther it travels. The next step in the development of nation-wide service lay in the direction of overcom- ing this tendency. [9] By wrapping a wire many times around a ring of specially prepared iron, a coil, known as a loading coil, was made. When these loading coils, invented by Pupin and developed by telephone engineers, were connected in the circuit to strengthen it at the proper intervals, speech currents could travel considerably farther be- fore becoming so weak as to be useless. The loading coil principle was discovered in 1899, and its use made it possible, by 1911, for these speech currents to link the East to Denver. Another important contribution to the development of service between distant cities was the three-electrode vacuum tube conceived by DeForest. This tube was made reliable and sturdy by telephone scientists who developed it as a “repeater” and thus enabled speech to be transmitted over still greater distances. This was one of the de- velopments that made it possible to extend telephone service from coasttocoast. In 1915 Boston talked with San Francisco over a line 3,650 miles long. The year 1915, which marked the establishment of nation-wide not simply the service, proved but an incidental s to r y o f an - - - instrument...” milestone to telephone scientists, who had already set for themselves an even higher goal—world-wide service. The remark- able results of their research and experiments in radio telephony were disclosed the same year when they suc- ceeded in sending the voice by radio from Arlington, [10] º |--|-- - º º - - - - - - - Zºº Nº. * --Q- - N - --- -- º ºº: --- --- -º- - º -- - - - - - --- |- - - - - - Sºº--> --- - - --- - - -- º - - - - º - - - -- | - º | - ſ" --- º ºf º º/ º/ º/ -- - 7% º - - - - - jº “Through the ether I speed men's spoken messages from continent to continent, transforming the nations into members of a great, world-wide neighborhood . . .” [11] Va., to Paris and to Honolulu. The intervention of war only temporarily delayed the practical fruition of these years of research. On March 7, 1926–the fiftieth anniversary of the date on which Bell's first telephone patent was granted —two-way telephone conversation between the United States and England was given a public test and early in the following year, January 7, 1927, commercial tele- phone service between New York and London was in- augurated. This ocean-spanning service was soon ex- tended to include all of the United States, all of Cuba, and many cities in Canada and Mexico and all of Eng- land, Scotland and Wales. In 1928, service was extend- ed to Belgium, and other countries of Europe quickly “Another important contribution to the development of service between distant cities ...” [12] followed. Now American telephone users can talk over the transoceanic circuit to twenty-two European coun- tries and to Ceuta, Africa. Radio telephone ser- vice was opened between | the United States and South America in Ap- ril, 1930, the countries on that continent reached by the circuit being Ar- gentina, Chile and Uru- guay. In October, 1930, commercial radio tele- phone service from the United States to a fifth continent, Australia, by way of London, was in- augurated. -- - - So I have added to . . . keeps the scientist at h - f his laboratory bench . . .” the carrying power o my voice as I have grown up through childhood and youth to man's estate. But this problem of teaching me to add to the reach of my voice has not been the only one confronting those who have taken up the task Bell and his associates laid down. Every child must learn to live his life, not as an in- dividual, sufficient unto himself, but as a member of society. He must learn to live and to work with others. Hemustmasterthearts of co-operation and co-ordination. [13] -- - ... improvements . . . in other apparatus and equipment . . .” A somewhat similar lesson was set before me in my schoolroom in the little Bell laboratory in Boston. The moment these schoolmasters of mine, the pioneers of the telephone, had conceived the idea of telephone ser- vice, it became obvious that the chief aim of the tele- phone could never be simply that of providing commu- nication, for telephone service implied inter-commu- nication. At first, the telephones were leased in pairs, to afford, for example, communication between a man's office and his home, and nothing else. Each pair of these instruments was a little system unto itself, per- forming its limited function satisfactorily enough, but not providing telephone service in any real sense, for there was no means of interconnecting all these tele- phones so that conversation could be held from any one instrument to any one of the others. How to provide this service of intercommunication was the next problem to be solved in the telephone lab- oratory; the next lesson which I, as a growing child, had to master. My training in this direction began sim- ply, in primary-school fashion, for the first switchboard was a crude affair providing means of connecting only [14] five telephones. These instruments had been installed in five Boston banks and this elementary switchboard was a telephone exchange or central office only by day. At night the telephones were removed, telegraph instru- ments were replaced, and the wires were used as before as a telegraphic burglar alarm system. Crude though it was, this simple switching mecha- nism was sufficiently satisfactory to prove that a service of intercommunication could be given on a commercial basis, and a switchboard for this purpose was installed at New Haven, Conn., in 1878. This at first connected eight subscribers’ lines. It was an auspicious early step in the evolution of a mere idea into a great instrumentality providing uni- versal service for millions of American telephone users. The very heart of this universal service is the switch- a 2% WSs. - - “. . . that was later to become a nation-wide service . . . [15] board, and its history has been written, to no small de- gree, in the steady development from these crude affairs to intricate assemblages of mechanisms that make up the modern manually operated switchboard, and to the even more complicated equipment involved in making dial telephone connections. As I began to grow—as telephone facilities were ex- panded to meet the ever-increasing popular demand for telephone service—I was confronted with tempo- rary difficulties that were not unlike “growing pains.” The very fact that telephone facilities were increasing at such a rapid rate in itself created new problems which had to be solved. There was, for instance, the problem of the conges- tion of overhead wires in the larger cities, where heavy traffic necessitated the erection of pole lines carrying twenty or more crossarms. These towering poles with their weight of wires were unsightly and often danger- ous, and it soon became apparent that means must be found to put the wires underground. The scientists in the telephone laboratory, which had meantime grown in size and in personnel, attacked this problem. Once more I returned to my lessons—this time to learn how to make my way through the earth, amid a maze of gas and water pipes. My laboratory instructors patiently worked out my problems. Various forms of cable were tried, many of them with results that were far from satisfactory. Final- ly, a lead-covered cable, in which each wire was insu- lated from the others with a wrapping of paper, was tried and found far superior to all others. This is the [16] -- % | º º| .- || | - - -- --- º, lº - - - ----- --- --- --- - - - - Zºº III - - º - - . | A. - - | - . | º | | . ---- * . . . to learn how to make my way through the earth, amid a maze . . .” - = * **- [17] type of cable used today throughout America's nation-wide telephone network. Over ninety per cent of this net- work's total wire mile- age is now in cable and over sixty-five per cent. of it in underground cable. Great improvements have been made in ca- bles since their first use in the early 80's, one of the most striking of -- which has been a grad- ual increase in the num- “The very heart of this universal - service is the switchboard . . .” ber of wires per cable. The first cables con- tained not more than fifty pairs of wires, while many modern cables of the same size—slightly larger than a man's wrist—contain as many as 1,800 pairs of wires. This improvement has effected great economies, which have been of direct benefit to the American telephone user. These are but a few of the problems solved by the engineers and scientists who have been responsible for the technical phases of my education—the men who, in the laboratory and in the field, have evolved the mechanism and the methods that make possible mod- ern telephone service, as the subscriber knows it. [18] My technical education has included, indeed, the mastery of problems of which my earlier teachers never even dreamed. I have been taught, for example, to talk so loudly that with my assistance a public speaker may be heard perfectly by an assembled crowd of a hundred thousand people. I have learned how to send my word-bearing cour- iers thousands of miles without the use of wires. Through the ether I speed men's spoken messages from continent to continent, transforming the nations into members of a great world-wide neighborhood, and to far-off ships at sea. Through the same mysterious me- dium I send to the ears of millions the words of the great orator, the surging strains of a symphony orches- tra, the up-to-the-minute description of a stirring event or the tender cadences of a woman's voice as she sings a lullaby to tens of thousands of children. Subtract me, the telephone, from your radio set and the result is— silence. . . . many modern cables ... contain as many as 1,800 pairs of wires.” [19] The circuits of a nation-wide telephone system make available the best of programs, wherever they may or- iginate, to broadcasting stations linked into chains that stretch from coast to coast. Radio broadcasting is what it is today because of what I, the telephone, have been and am. From the laboratories which have wrought these miracles in speeding the spoken messages of men have come other marvels—by-products, as it were, of tele- phone research. Among these are the electrical stetho- scope, which amplifies the sounds of the heart and lungs so that physicians may more accurately diagnose diseases of these organs, and the artificial larynx, which makes speech possible for many who have lost the use of their vocal cords. It is particularly fitting, in view of the lifelong interest which the inventor of the telephone held in work for the deaf, that the laboratories which bear his name should have developed devices that are of inestimable value in furthering this great humanitarian enterprise. These include the audiometer, used in accurately measuring acuteness of hearing and as an invaluable aid in the study of cases of impaired hearing, and the audiphone, which enables the partially deaf to hear more clearly. “... the most service and the But through all these years, best, at the least cost...” while the scientist has been [20] - - - |II. --- -- ... communicating by branch wires with private dwellings, country houses, shops, manufactories . . .” struggling with technical problems, other men have been solving problems of a very different sort, but problems that have been in no sense less difficult. For [21] in order to perform the task set before me—in order to provide the nation-wide service which was the ideal of the early telephone pioneers and has been the incentive and the goal of all who have followed them—I had to learn much more than the mere technical lessons given me to master. I had, as it were, to take a course in busi- ncSS. I had to learn what kind of an organization could best provide nation-wide service; how to build a finan- cial foundation for such an organization that would be firm and stable and still be capable of meeting the needs of growth and expansion; how to effect economies that would assure a service within the financial reach of §§ gºlºgº EFEEE - - - - . . . to send my word-bearing couriers thou- sands of miles without the use of wires.” [22] all who had need of it. Here, too, my school- masters had to begin with elementary lessons. No widespread organi- zation such as that which exists today was created in the early days of the telephone. In the busi- ness development of the invention, as in its tech- nical development, those were the days of small beginnings, of lessons learned by the line and by the precept. But on the foundation the n laid, there has been built the organization which pro- vides modern America with a telephone service that ranks as the most widespread, the most efficient and the most economical in the world. One person in every hundred in the United States either works for or owns securities of the Bell System. One person in every hundred is helping by work or money to build and operate the wires, cables and switchboards which are used to give telephone service to the nation. The direction of the activities and growth of such an organization involves responsibilities to the millions of telephone users of America; to the more than 750,000 men and women whose investments in the telephone -- . . and to ships far off at sea.” [23] business have helped to make possible the service of to- day; to thousands upon thousands of telephone em- ployees. I–your telephone—embody the aims and purposes of this organization. I am at once a visible expression and a constant reminder of its definitely stated pledge to provide “the most telephone service and the best, at the least cost to the public.” I am a symbol, too, of the individual devotion to duty that is a tradition among telephone people. This lesson, in common with my technical and business lessons, I had to learn step by step, for sound traditions are not created in a day. I had to acquire a growing sense of the public's dependence on me. I had to become increas- ingly conscious of the responsibilities of providing a service which enters so intimately into the lives of those who use it. I had to come to believe that, since I could never know what telephone message might involve mat- ters of life and death, all messages must be treated as if they were of vital importance. I had to affirm a ser- vice creed—a deep conviction that neither storm nor flood nor fire nor any other emergency must stay the words of men on their way over the wires; that no sac- rifice is too great to make, in order to assure dependable service at all times. These lessons, too, I have learned. Gradually the telephone has been endowed with traditions in which all my men and women take loyal pride. Each step in telephone service has been marked by acts of supreme devotion, so that now what members of the Bell System family call the “Spirit of Service” seems instinctive. This devotion to duty is a very real and very vital force [24] ... neither storm nor flood nor fire nor any other emergency - must stay the words of men . to all my workers, and provides the real explanation of the growth and development of telephone service in America. This Spirit of Service, after all, is summed up in me —the telephone-thought. It is the incentive which keeps the scientist at his laboratory bench, hour after hour, day after day, throughout the years—until he solves some vitally important problem. It is that which gives vision to the executive and helps him to master the dif- ficulties that daily arise in the management of an or- ganization as vast as that which nation-wide telephone service requires. It provides the unwavering courage [25 which prompts a lineman to brave a winter blizzard in order that broken wires may be repaired, or which holds an operator at her post of duty when death by flood or fire stands grimly at her side. It is the ideal that makes the telephone what it is to you—a devoted public servant, a guardian in times of danger, a faithful friend. One other lesson I have had to learn—the lesson of ever looking forward to larger and larger opportuni- ties of service. Year by year my horizons have widened. I have grown with the nation and helped the nation to grow. My eyes have forever been on new goals to be attained, on new fields of usefulness. I have formed the habit of thinking in terms of greater and greater value to the public. But in the last analysis my present and my future de- pend upon you, the telephone user. I am your servant. My achievements of today and my goals of tomorrow are justified only through your co-operation, your use, your confidence. I am your telephone. [26 J - - ‘... that no sacrifice is too great to make . . . Text by Robertson T. BARRETT Illustrations by FRANKLIN Booth [27 J Printed in the U. S. A. |||||| | ----------- ||||| 3 9015 0.2094 2226