Phone boxes – a familiar ring
Sir, – I have great memories of a phone box on Parkgate Street in Dublin. It was the summer of 1968. I was 17 and had just completed an interview on Infirmary Road for selection as a cadet for the Army. I failed the interview. Terribly upset, I went to that phone box and rang my mother, in tears, to inform her about the result.
“Where are you?”, she asked. “In a phone box near the Heuston Bridge over the Liffey,” I answered. “You are not going to jump in, are you?”, she replied. Every time I passed that phone box, the memory of that conversation came to mind. I went on to pursue a career in architecture. – Yours, etc,
Sir, – When we were kids we occasionally (probably out of boredom) used to see how many of us could squeeze into a phone box. As I recall nine was a record.
Tell that to kids today and they wouldn’t believe a word of it, or they might ask what’s a phone box. – Yours, etc,