The last call at the Atkinson River Mining Company

Although Joan O’Donohoe was a small-framed, elderly woman, her presence could still be imposing, at least for anyone who wasn’t polite to her on the phone. As the switchboard operator at the Atkinson River Mining Company for the last 42 years, she’d taken plenty of phone calls.

The switchboard room looked like something out of the 1960’s primarily because it was. The switchboard wall, where the various calls were placed using sockets and plugs, had been removed in the early 1970s, and call forwarding could now be done from a desk phone, but the room still felt like a time capsule. Natural light came from only one small window behind Joan’s desk, and fluorescent lights created a gentle hum in the room. In its heyday, 4 women worked the phones at any time; now, only Joan remained.

Joan had managed calls from irate miners who had not received their pay, environmentalists who wanted to complain about pollution, executives from other companies, and everyone in between. She put through calls from media outlets and politicians and transferred more than one irate wife whose husband had not finished in time for an anniversary dinner as promised. Her soft, gentle voice soothed most, but if that didn’t work, the “mother” tone came on, and soon enough they were getting scolded like they were a naughty child, about to get the strap.

Joan had no formal education; she finished school at 14 and married Danny, the love of her life, the day after she turned 18. They had 3 children: Colleen, conceived before the hastily organized wedding; then Shane; and finally, Daniel. Danny was a miner, like so many other men in these parts.

On 22 September 1983, there was an accident at the mine; two miners were seriously injured, and Danny was killed. Joan was now a widow at 23, with 3 children to look after and no way to make a living. After the funeral, when Peter Rasmussen, the mine's General Manager, came to offer his condolences, he said, “If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

Joan responded in a heartbeat, “I need a job, Mr Rasmussen. Can you help me there?” He was taken aback by the presence of mind of a woman grieving the loss of her husband.  He took a few seconds to think, looked at the hangers-on who had accompanied him to the house, and replied, “I can, Mrs O’Donohoe, I’ll have Mrs Walker from HR reach out to you next week, we’d be very happy to have you work at the Atkinson River Mining Company”.

Joan started and learned the ropes quickly. She impressed everyone with her pleasant manner and her ability to find the bright side in any situation. She never came to work complaining; she greeted everyone with a smile, and even the most hardened miners hesitated to swear in her presence.

Colleen, Shane, and Daniel never went hungry, never missed a school event, and always had presents for their birthdays and under the tree at Christmas. When something happened that meant more calls would come in at night, Joan stayed back, rarely claiming overtime. She remained grateful for her job and the opportunity to provide for her family. She had paid for schooling, then college, and helped the kids on their way, the same way she would have hoped Danny would have.

 The mine had planned the telephone system upgrade for a while. In fact, they could have moved to VoIP two years ago, but they had put the project off until now. Joan had always said she wanted to retire at 65; the new phone system would mean her job would not be needed anymore, and the mine could justify paying her a redundancy as a way to give her an extra boost to her retirement.

So today, at 5 pm, Joan O’Donohoe would finish work at the switchboard for the Atkinson River Mining Company. She’d already had a morning tea, where current and former colleagues all came along to say goodbye to Joan. They brought presents, including a very generous flight voucher so she could visit Colleen, her husband, and their children, who now lived in London.

Joan had resisted an offer to finish at lunchtime, instead wanting to handle the last few calls that might come through that afternoon. A committed employee to the last.

It was 4:48 pm. Mavis Calloway from Human Resources had come down and was talking to Joan. She would help her pack up her last few things and make sure she got clocked off, in line with procedures.

The phone lit up. Mavis looked at Joan and said, “Last call?”

Joan nodded and answered the phone the same way she had for the last 42 years: “Atkinson River Mining Company, how may I assist you?”

A brief pause at the end of the line, and then, “Mrs Donohoe?” The man's voice was old and tired, but Joan recognized it. “Mr Rasmussen?” she inquired. It had been about 20 years since Peter Rasmussen had retired from the company, although he regularly sent postcards from his overseas travels. He was close to turning 99 now, but by all accounts, had kept his faculties relatively intact.

“Mrs O’Donohoe, I wanted to be the last call you took in your employment with the Atkinson River Mining Company”, he said. Joan could feel emotions welling inside her; tears began to fill her eyes as she realized this was her last working day in a job she’d taken amid tragedy.

Joan pulled herself together and, in a kind voice, said, “Thank you for helping me and my family, Mr Rasmussen, and thank you for calling me.” Joan assumed that was it, then Mr Rasmussen said, “Well, by my calculations, you’re still being paid for another 11 minutes, so let’s catch up”.

Joan and Mr Rasmussen talked for the rest of her time with the company he had led for many years, until 5:01 pm. He finished the call by saying, “Thank you for being the first voice that people heard when they called our company, and thank you for everything you have done”.

They ended the call, and Joan left work for the last time that day. The last switchboard operator for the Atkinson River Mining Company.