Back during the Depression, we had some privacy; that is, until technology began to let loose. Our first telephone was a “party line” that had seven other neighbors hooked to the same line. When our phone rang, neighbors could listen in. Nosey Rosy, down the road, always picked up and listened to our calls, and had plenty text material to use as gossip at church on Sundays. Since then, my privacy slowly, but surely vanished. What little I have now is stored in Prism.
— Contact Terry Cummins at TLCTLC@AOL.com