Ma Bell's Place
by Vic Sumner
Reprinted from "Crown Jewels of the Wire", December 1988, page 13
A COCK AND BULL STORY
Frank Holister, a trouble-shooter for the Blue Water Cooperative Telephone
Co., was working late. He had trouble up a pole on the Elsmore place, so he
checked in with him before climbing. Elsmore laughingly said, "Be sure to
watch out for our watch rooster."
As Paul Elsmore was known to pull a leg or two in his time, Frank just
laughed off the comment.
Since he, like many pole climbers, wore his hooks all day, he was ready for
the ascent when he arrived at the foot of the pole. Upon reaching for the pole
in the dark, his hand encountered the 2 x 4 Elsmore had nailed to the pole which
was used for his wife Sandy's clothes-line.
A second but far more alarming surprise awaited him. As he again reached for
the pole, his hand descended on an explosive ball of feathers.
Falling back in surprise he was covered with soft bodies and flapping wings.
He later recalled a squawking, the likes of which he had never heard before,
followed by a stabbing pain in his right leg.
The Elsmore's chicken flock had long ago found a safe haven from roving
coyotes atop the clothesline and our trouble-shooting friend had spooked them.
Big Red, the lord and master of this flock of hens, did what any rooster
would do. He attacked the intruder, Frank. And Frank did what any sensible
telephone man would do in this situation, he ran for his wagon.
The Elsmore family had, after hearing the ruckus, guessed what had happened.
They watched from the porch as Frank went charging by with his antagonist
flaying the shirt off his back. The last thing Frank heard as he whipped his
horse into a dead run was old man Elsmore bellowing. "Stick him with your
spurs, Frank, stick him with your spurs.
While the line crew under Foreman Sunny Meals was working on a right-of-way
on private property in Mansfield one day, a large and pugnacious bull caught
sight of the red shirt worn by Lineman James Caffrey, and charged through the
underbrush and sent Meals and Caffrey on the run.
Caffrey was wearing spurs and nimbly climbed a pole. Meals, being without
spurs, tried to hide behind the pole. When Caffrey reached the top, he removed his
spurs and tossed them to Meals, but by this time the bull was snorting and
pawing the ground about ten feet away, evidently startled at these human beings
who stick their feet into poles and climb.
With one eye on the bull, Meals adjusted the spurs with shaky hands. He
started to climb just in the nick of time, for the bull had decided that he was
wasting his time and began to charge the butt of the pole. He nearly shook Meals
off before the foreman reached the crossarm. Meals' escape infuriated the bull
all the more, and our reliable plant men say he was highly indignant as he
charged the pole a dozen or more times, nearly breaking it off.
Things were uncomfortable for the boys up there until Meals, a former big
league baseball player, took the insulators which Caffrey had untied, and after
several attempts scored a bull's eye on the bull's ribs. Surprised, chagrined,
the bull decided to take his base and retired, leaving the men much relieved.
John Brody was not a man to be trifled with. His line-gang was assigned to
build a line between Phillipsville and Handley's Mill and he intended building
in a straight line whenever possible. He didn't care much who didn't like it. And
so, upon reaching the boundary fence of farmer Harold Norman, he set his boys to
placing poles in a bee-line across Norman's fields. This brought a predictable
response from the farmer who was also a man who was known to assert himself when
the occasion called for it. This was one such occasion.
He promptly ordered a halt to the digging and suggested that the only part
of this line-gang he wanted to see was their coat tails as they went over his
fence. Brody promptly produced a "legal paper" which he claimed gave him authority to place his
poles wherever he chose and put the gang back to digging.
Norman's only response was a faint smile before he turned and headed for his
barn. Had Brody known the farmer better he would have been a trifle worried as
that smile was the one reserved for "getting even time."
It wasn't long 'til the linemen and their pugnacious boss heard the thunder of
hoof beats and spied a large, red bull charging in their direction. His intent
was all too clear, so leaving tools scattered the men began to run for the
fence.
Farmer Norman was heard to shout, "Show him your paper, dang it, show
him your paper."
Love,
MA
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