Dean Shalhoup

I picked up my phone the other day and did something I never thought I’d have the opportunity to do: I placed a call to a “hello girl,” and the “hello girl” said “hello?”

I know, I should have said, “hello,” but I believe I goofed and just said “hi” as I introduced myself.

If all that makes you wonder whether a little bit of the cheese has slipped off my proverbial cracker, I’m not surprised. But behind it all is a really neat snapshot in Nashua history, provided by my new favorite “hello girl,” Sylvia Hudon LaQuerre.

First, “hello girls,” for the uninitiated, was the collective nickname for telephone operators back when home and business telephones alike were heavy, consistently black devices devoid of those familiar circles of metal with numbers and letters and a bunch of index finger-size holes.

If you’re a longtime, or native, Nashuan of a certain age who remembers using such a device, it’s quite possible the voice you heard when you picked up your receiver was Sylvia’s.

From The Telegraph files Sylvia Hudon Laquerre is the telephone operator in this photo, which was taken in May 1954 during an open house at the telephone company on Factory Street. The photo appeared in last week's Sunday Telegraph, but her name wasn't known at the time. Sylvia contacted The Telegraph upon seeing her photo last week. (From The Telegraph files)

Now a spry-sounding 93, Sylvia, who considers the prospect of using today’s cell phones “so scary,” became a telephone operator a couple of years after graduating with honors in 1948 from the former St. Louis High School.

She called me in response to seeing her photo in last Sunday’s Telegraph, which didn’t include her name because we didn’t know it at the time.

Upon further review, I discovered in Nashua Telegraphs of the era references to an open house that the telephone company hosted at its headquarters between Factory and High streets.

Sylvia remembers the purpose of the open house was to invite local telephone users in to show them how to make and receive phone calls once Nashua converted to dial phone service.

Sylvia, as a supervisor, was one of several “hello girls” who first trained newer co-workers on the new technology, as well as on the process of “operator-assisted toll dailing,” which would become a significant part of their jobs once the changeover occurred.

A photo that ran in a May 1954 Nashua Telegraph shows Sylvia working with operator Cecile Murphy, while four other operators watch.

“In conjunction with the Nashua dial conversion,” the photo caption reads, “local operators are being trained in the new method of operator toll dialing – called ‘key pulsing.’ This method will greatly aid in speeding up the placement of toll calls,” the caption reads.

Work shifts at the telephone company varied, Sylvia remembers, but a certain number of “hello girls” were on duty around the clock, preventing Nashua from becoming another Mayberry, where calls could not be connected if Sarah, the town’s lone switchboard operator, was sleeping or otherwise occupied.

The busiest times for operators, Sylvia recalls, were Friday and Saturday nights – but not because Nashua’s would-be suitors were busy going through their little black books in hopes of scoring a date for the evening.

“It was mostly the taxis, people calling for rides from the beer joints,” she said. “I don’t know if you remember, but there were a lot of beer joints downtown back then.”

Well, I do remember some, but surely Sylvia knows of many others, being on the front lines of Nashua’s communications center.

How many times Sylvia said “number, please” over the course of a typical shift is anyone’s guess.

But she suddenly remembered one of the most important rules of being a telephone operator, the one that the bosses made sure was being followed.

“We always had to say, ‘thank you’ when we connected them,” she said, referring to the callers on the other end of the line.

As our conversation concluded, I was just about to thank Sylvia for taking the time to chat when that “hello girl” training kicked in.

“Thank you,” she blurted, beating me to the punch.

Dean Shalhoup’s column appears weekly in The Sunday Telegraph. He may be reached at 594-1256 or dshalhoup@nashuatelegraph.com.