It all started one afternoon. I picked up my cell phone, ready to play one of the few games I have, when everything went bonkers.
My screen switched out of the regular view I was used to and started showing all kinds of advertisements. These just started popping up. One screen said not to shut my phone off. One pop-up said my cell phone had a virus. It recommended I click on it to fix the problem.
I did not click on anything suspicious. I had heard recent news reports about scammers taking all a person’s personal information and using it to steal money.
This odd happening really freaked me out. I might not have a lot, but I sure didn’t want any thief taking what I have.
My phone was set face down on my nightstand that night. I had not listened to any of the pop-up screens and turned the phone off.
Thinking about this problem kept me tossing and turning all night. In the morning, I drove into Seymour with my cell phone and stopped in at our local Cellcom dealer. With my fingers crossed, I asked for help.
The manager was on duty, and she said she would try to help me. Together, we went through my phone apps. After about 45 minutes, she solved the problem. It turned out an Arrows game app had told me that I needed to update my game. When I followed those instructions, my phone went haywire.
It took extra maneuvering to remove the app, but when it was completely gone, I had my cell phone back to normal. Thank you, Mandy at Seymour’s Cellcom.
Back when the biggest phone problem was a busy party line
Because of this kerfuffle with my cell phone, I started to remember my history with phones.
When I was a kid, our phone was attached to the wall by a short cord. When using it for any length of time, you had to pull up a chair.
We were also on a party line. One of the old neighbors liked to talk on the phone to her friends. She would often monopolize the party line—we also thought that she listened to our private conversations. We were told never to share anything really important, just in case she had picked up when she heard another phone call coming in—we all had a particular number of rings.
Anyway, one time, Dad really needed the telephone, but he didn’t want to interrupt the neighbor’s call. After about ten minutes, Dad asked me to lift our receiver to see if the line was still busy. It was. Even though Dad was frustrated, he never broke into her calls. Finally, I guess she got tired of talking, and the phone was free for Dad to use. He was on and off of it in a few minutes. It was a blessing to the neighborhood when AT&T converted all of us to private lines.
At this time, we lived about 30 miles away from my Grandma Jo in Chicago. To get her on the telephone, you had to dial 0 for the long-distance operator. I was a very shy kid and hated to talk to the strange operator. On special occasions, I would pick up the heavy receiver and dial 0. “Number, please?” the woman on the other end asked. My reply was “Bishop 7-2730.” I also remember our phone number: 469-2253.
When a person was out of the house, the phone might ring, but no one was there to answer it. They would have to call back to relay their message. This was way before answering machines.
I really missed my cell phone when it was on the blink. I’m here to tell you to be suspicious of any updates to your apps. I’ve been advised to go directly to my app store to make updates from there.
Susan Manzke, Sunnybook Farm, N8646 Miller Rd, Seymour, WI 54165; sunnybook@aol.com; susanmanzke@gmail.com; www.susanmanzke.net/blog.
This article originally appeared on Wisconsin State Farmer: Pop-up scare on smartphone reminded me how much times have changed
Reporting by Susan Manzke, Correspondent / Wisconsin State Farmer
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By Susan Manzke, Correspondent | USA TODAY Network
