The pages are yellow, but they aren’t the Yellow Pages. This little pamphlet is the entire telephone book, Broken Arrow, 1930. It’s small enough to read the entire thing. And I’ve done it.
Twice.
People ask all the time, “What used to be in this building?” I only knew for certain who was here just before the bookshelves were moved in. In fact, if you visit Main Street on Google Earth, you’ll still see the Francy Law Firm lettering on the black awning. (They need to update our Rose District!)
In 1930, our location was home to J. L. Greene Mercantile Company. You could reach Mr. Greene at his store by dialing 329. That isn’t the prefix or area code. That’s the whole phone number. 329.
The “operator” era, when a live person spoke to anyone who lifted the handset from the phone cradle, had ended for Broken Arrow – but apparently only recently. Page two of the little phone book describes in detail the methods and actions required to place a call.
“Remove the receiver from the receiver hook,” it says. “Place it to your ear and listen for the ‘DIAL TONE.’ When heard, proceed.”
Those homes equipped with a telephone in an outlying area still had to rely on a phone operator. “Dial number ‘8,’ instructs the General Information Section on how to call rural subscribers. “The rural operator will answer you by saying ‘OPERATOR.’ Give her the rural number desired and your call will be completed.”
Not a word about voice mail.
When Mr. Greene died suddenly in 1947, Greene Mercantile became a Broken Arrow footnote and the building was given over to other purposes. A couple of customers have told me that a fellow named Sy ran a recreational hall in the location sometime after that, with billiard tables and such.
Another visitor to the shop told me she had been born upstairs, next door. I certainly wasn’t in a position to doubt her story, but the old phone book has verified that two doctors maintained a “surgery” above what is now Glamour Gowns & More.
Dr. W. Mark Cooper kept his office at 124-A Main (above the gown shop, dial 5026), and could have walked to work from his home at 226 East Dallas (dial 215). Dr. Onis Franklin, a Tennessee native, lived down the block from Dr. Cooper, and the two shared the “surgery” upstairs at Main and Commercial. No doubt the good Doctor Franklin was in attendance at the birth of the woman sharing her story with me.
Barnsdall Refining resided where the little park is now at Main and Broadway. You could pick up your nails and such at Akers Hardware, 116 S. Main, dial 5046. Next door was OK Seed and Feed Store at 114, now home to Southern Magnolia. Oklahoma Natural Gas and Public Service Company kept offices mid-block, where 1907 Boutique and Star Jewelers are now located.
It’s surprising to see how much competition there was in such close proximity. Several lumber companies, mercantiles, general stores, and druggists were within a few doors of each other. Broken Arrow, small as it was at the time, had at least three funeral homes (all with display advertising) and all three operated ambulance services. Instead of 911, you’d dial 224 (Broken Arrow Funeral Home), 271 (Barth Funeral Home), or 211 (Kennedy Funeral Service).
Mr. Barth also had a mercantile on Main Street, to tide him over during the public’s healthy times.
I used to be a member of a car club and I’m pretty sure our membership directory was about the same thickness as the Oklahoma Telephone Company’s 1930 Broken Arrow phone book.
It’s no stretch when I admit to you that I’ve enjoyed reading this little historical artifact a lot more than any other telephone directory I’ve ever owned. Makes me want to pop down to McKee Cafe (223 S Main, dial 342) for a tall tasty sarsaparilla with a dash of cherry.
Come visit! (or dial 918. Plus 258. And don’t forget the 3301!)
McHuston
Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!