There is a delightful story about a special friend a man named Paul made when he was quite young. Paul’s father had one of the first telephones in Seattle. He was too small to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when his mother talked to it. Then Paul discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person – her name was “Information, Please” and there was nothing she did not know.
Paul’s first personal experience with this genie-in the-bottle came one day while his mother was out. Amusing himself at the tool bench in the basement, Paul whacked his finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn’t seem any reason to cry because there was no one home to give sympathy. He walked around the house sucking his throbbing finger, finally the idea hit him - The telephone! Dragging the kitchen stool to the phone he climbed up, unhooked the receiver and held it to his ear. “Information, Please,” A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into Paul’s ear.
