“Number, Please?”—The Story of Gull Lake’s Telephone Office
- Gull Lake Events
- 13 hours ago
- 3 min read
Before smartphones and speed dial, Gull Lake’s telephone system relied on crank phones, switchboards, and the steady hands of local operators who knew every voice in town. What we take for granted today was once a luxury—and a lifeline.
The First Telephone Office
The earliest remembered telephone office sat at the corner of Rutland and Main. It was open from 8 a.m. to 10 p.m., and operators like Lena Hubbard and Verna Draper Cairney connected every call by hand.
By 1916, rural lines began linking farms to town, and the office moved next to Morrow’s Furniture Store and Mortuary—a pairing only a small town could make work.
Growing Demand, Growing Town
As the community expanded, so did its need for reliable communication.
The office shifted again to Main Street. The exact building has changed over the years—the structure once known as Mac’s Barber Shop and later Vanessa’s no longer exists—but the location would be near where Prairie Green Cannabis operates today.
During this period, the superintendent, Mr. Moore from Moose Jaw, oversaw operations as the system grew more complex.
A Purpose‑Built Office on Rutland Avenue
Around 1928–29, Gull Lake built a dedicated telephone office on Rutland Avenue, now home to the Senior Citizens’ Centre.
The building included:
a switchboard room
telephone booths
a counter for paying accounts
the chief operator’s desk
living quarters for the chief operator
Mary Bradley was the first to hold that role. With the new building came a major change: 24‑hour service. The coveted night shift ran from 10 p.m. to 8 a.m., five days a week—quiet, steady, and preferred by many operators.
Life Behind the Switchboard
Operators weren’t just connecting calls. They were the town’s communication hub.
They:
rang firemen during emergencies
announced meetings, concerts, and barn fires over rural lines
relayed messages to homes without telephones
walked across town to deliver urgent long‑distance messages for a quarter
helped test lines with telephone technicians
recognized callers by voice—and sometimes by nickname
(For example, when the hotel pay phone rang and someone asked for “Sweetie Pie,” operators usually knew exactly which number to ring. That was the charm of party‑line culture.)
It was personal, human, and deeply local.
The Famous Varnish Incident
One operator recalled a memorable mishap: while the chief operator was on vacation, a well‑meaning colleague varnished the switchboard to make it shine.
When the varnish dried, the drops stuck—meaning operators couldn’t see which line was ringing. They had to press their ears to the board to find the faint buzz of an incoming call.
It took wire brushes, varsol, and a lot of patience to restore service. The superintendent wasn’t impressed, but the story became part of local legend.
Modernization Arrives
By 1955, the living quarters were phased out, and the building was remodeled to focus entirely on telephone operations. The staff grew to 12–14 operators, all trained and scheduled by the chief operator.
Then came the biggest shift of all.
In 1961, SaskTel built a new equipment building and began installing dial telephones. By May 1962, Gull Lake officially became a dial community. The switchboard went silent, and operators were no longer required. Many transferred; others moved on.
It was the end of an era—efficient, yes, but never as personal.
A Legacy of Voices
For decades, Gull Lake’s operators were more than employees. They were neighbours, problem-solvers, and the unseen hands connecting a growing community. Their work carried the town through emergencies, celebrations, and everyday life.
Though technology has moved on, the voices and dedication of Gull Lake’s operators remain part of the town’s enduring legacy.
Gull Lake Events
Historical details sourced from Gull Lake Memories: A History of the Town of Gull Lake.