Hello?

I have told you before about my beloved high school. It looks like a castle and sits at the top of a hill. As a matter of fact it is known as The Castle On The Hill. The students were the Lords and Ladies of the castle.

I will not describe the school more than I need to here because I have done that before. And you can do a web search if you are really curious.

There were a lot of 'jobs' that needed to be done. Some did not require a full time employee and there was no money in the budget for them.

 Some offices accepted student volunteers to spend a free hour each day to assist the person in the office. They might run errands to the supply area to replenish for the office. Or maybe do some filing. Or maybe even help grade papers.

There were other jobs too.  All were voluntary and it was considered to be an honor to help the school.

A job that I had was switchboard operator. 

There were a lot of offices that used telephones. When a caller needed to speak to someone specific the operator connected them.

There was one phone number to call the school. The calls had to be routed to the correct phone.

You may have seen the switchboard in old movies. The is a board with holes in it mounted on the wall. On the table in front of the board was a series of connecting wires. Only the connectors were visible. 

The operator wore those old-fashioned headphones. When the phone rang the operator would pull up one of the connecting wires and plug it in to a receiving hole at the bottom of the board.

"Central High School. How may I direct your call?" That is how I would answer. 

Once in a while the caller would have question I could answer like what school were we playing against in football. Usually there was an adult in an office they wished to speak to. 

Then I would pull out the cable of the matching color, plug it into the hole belonging to that office. I pushed a little button in front of me to ring the phone in that office. 

When their call was ended the lights for their colored wire would go out. I would remove them from their holes and they would rewind into their places on the table. 

There were maybe 15 or 20 sets of wires. I seldom used them all. It was fun to be an operator for an hour each day.

Secrets

 I hate secrets. Not secrets about things like a surprise party or Christmas gifts. I am talking about secrets that can affect important things.

I was raised in a time when parents protected their children from anything bad. It is understandable. I tried to protect my children too. However some things need to be known.

When my children were small I wrote letters to grandparents letting them know. how the kids were doing. Most of the time the news was good... learning to walk, getting good grades in school, playing in little league, learning a new dance in dance class. Grandparents deserve to know all those things.

Not all the news was great. Sometimes the kids got the flu. Bones were broken. Cuts needed stitches. Tonsils needed removing. Grandparents deserve to know that.

My oldest son began to talk very early. I wrote to his grandmother and told her all the things he could say. When she came to visit she heard him and said, "My God Emma that kid can talk!"

My youngest son was still in diapers. We lived on a short street with no traffic so the children often played by the side of the road. My son kept bending over and biting into the road and eating the dirt. I thought it was funny until I noticed that his little legs were bowing. A visit to the doctor told us he had rickets. Vitamins fixed him right up.

Those are things grandparents deserve to know.

I had been married for a few months. I had the day off work so I went to visit my family. I visited with my parents for a while. Mom was sewing as we talked. 

I asked if my sister was upstairs. I would go up to see her. It was suddenly abnormally quiet. I asked again. Nothing. I asked more forcefully. and became worried. Still nothing. 

I aggressively planted my feet and aggressively told them I wanted to know where my sister was. Without looking up from her sewing my mother said, "You don't need to know."

I will admit that my sister was a wild child. A picture of her buried under the back porch flashed through my mind. 

Instead I firmly said," Oh yes I do need to know. She is my sister."

They relented and told me my sister was in a home for unwed mothers. No one was going to tell me! I think they thought I would not notice.

I thought my brothers and other sister knew. None of them knew until the precious little girl my sister gave up for adoption found us 20 years later. That is except for my children. I do not keep secrets from them.

Medical conditions are useful to know. Heart conditions, diabetes, cancer, epilepsy, eating disorders, and any other condition you can think of are important for many reasons. Family members need to be able to tell a doctor what things to watch for. Family members need to be able to understand what you need if there is a problem.

As I said I hate secrets. There are things family members have the right to know and a person has no right to make it a secret.