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Blogs by Jeanne G. Miller
An old elevator ride. 2/1/2008 12:45:33 PM
Memories can be fun to explore. I remember riding in elevators at a time when there was an operator. The person sat sharply dressed in a starched and freshly pressed uniform. When everyone was in, the operator would close the door and then an iron gate. Then, with the other hand, would turn a crank for the elevator to rise to the next floor or turn the crank the other way to go down. There was always an emotional sensation for me in my stomach as the elevator came to a stop. Getting on this ride was like putting my safety needs into the hands of someone else as well as in a mechanical object. The operator was always friendly and seemed to take the fear of the unknown away.
When it was just the two of us, I would be given the opportunity to drive the elevator. what fun. I could stop between floors I I wanted. I could go alittle faster and stop more quickly and have my stomach sink to my feet. It was a thill. espically at the old hotel where my grandparents lived. James was the operation there and he was always willing to let me have fun.
Elevators have now lost their charm. They are automatic and assend and decend with out much to do. I miss the old charm.
