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We strive to maintain impactful relationships with our readers. But one local family might have called our connection a little too close for comfort at times.
For nearly two decades, the Andersons’ home phone number caused them headaches and humor … because it was almost identical to ours at the Pleasanton Weekly office – the same digits, with two flipped.
“It was a goofy connection to the community and to the newspaper … and now it is no more,” Leah Anderson told me on Monday.
The family finally cut the cord on Jan. 27, as many have done in this cellphone-dominant world. But all the way until their line was disconnected, their outgoing voicemail message listed their correct number followed by the polite disclaimer, “If you are calling the Pleasanton Weekly newspaper, you have misdialed. So please hang up and dial 925-600-0840.”
When I learned about the link, I couldn’t help but ask to hear more about their story.
Leah and Mark Anderson moved from Cupertino to Pleasanton in 2006. Their house in the Fairlands area is almost on the complete opposite side of town from our current office on Sunol Boulevard.
“I picked it out off the list AT&T gave because with all of the zeroes in it, I thought it would be easy for my kids to remember,” Leah Anderson said of the number. “It was shortly after that that I started to notice our phone would ring a lot … We would get – and I’m not joking – two, three, sometimes four calls a day, and it was intense.”
Those mix of calls were what you might expect for a newspaper office, she told me. Someone’s paper wasn’t delivered, a subscriber was moving, they had a news tip or they were upset about something they read in the Weekly.
And of course hangups, strange voicemails and muffled speakers.
“It’s amazing how often people will dial the wrong number,” she said, noting that the family would usually answer the phone after the third consecutive call to let the person on the other end know this number wasn’t the Weekly’s. Some (likely embarrassed) callers would scoff to the Andersons, “I did not misdial.”
She remembered one time, “A woman called and left a five-minute rant … an impassioned argument against something (former editor) Jeb wrote. So I actually called her back and said you misdialed, and she was very grateful and apologized.”
Another Anderson anecdote was the time a prankster put up a sign on a fence around a historic building undergoing restoration in 2007, falsely claiming that Hooters was moving into downtown Pleasanton. The unlabeled phone number the “announcement” listed for inquiries? The Weekly’s.
She recalled the family getting a number of calls or voicemails that week, “Hi! I’d like to apply for the job at Hooters.”
“Now we have a phone number like Hooters?!” Anderson said looking back, with a laugh.
The inconvenience, though persistent, was minor in the Andersons’ eyes and they didn’t want to change the number or cancel service because of their kids.
“I’m one of those people who recognize the safety of having a landline,” Anderson added. “So I have been reluctant.”
The conversation changed in recent months though, just based on where the family – and the world around them – are now.
“When I started working again five years ago … I switched everything over to cellphones,” Anderson said.
She is a medical librarian with a long commute to the Stanford School of Medicine in Palo Alto. Husband Mark is a product security officer at a medical device company. The children are now young adults, with their son applying for grad schools and their twin daughters in college.
Maintaining a landline became less important for the family, and more expensive. Plus, by the end, the only people really calling that number were telemarketers, scammers and of course, those trying to phone the Weekly.
Anderson joked that she felt like our “honorary telephone assistant … redirecting people” over nearly 18 years. She admits that’s one thing she’ll miss, that relationship within the community she loves.
“It was a bittersweet moment,” she said of ending their landline. “It was a connection to the small-town newspaper, and it was a source of amusement for people who knew us.”
The Andersons probably held onto their home phone longer than most these days, but the timing of their final decision in recent months was intriguing in the grand scheme.
The future of landlines in California has been in the news in recent weeks.
AT&T has filed an application with the California Public Utilities Commission to withdraw its “eligible telecommunications carrier” designation and remove its “carrier of last resort” obligations as it pertains to telephone service for areas that cover millions of people across the state.
The CPUC is in the middle of its public forum cycle for AT&T’s proposal. The closest in-person sessions are in Ukiah (near my old stomping grounds), but there are two virtual sessions set for 2 p.m. and 6 p.m. March 19.
So far there are more than 3,100 public comments received and listed out on the CPUC website – the vast majority of which oppose the application.
People like Livermore resident Georgia Perry, who told the CPUC last Sunday evening that removing AT&T’s obligations would do a disservice to seniors and could harm people experiencing an emergency.
“Please please do not take away our landlines,” Perry wrote. “It’s a service we have had and the phone company should keep that service going and in good service. Not take the easy way out and not keep these lines in good service. Please do not let them take their service (of) our land lines away.”
We’ll see how it all works out. In the meantime, our line remains open. So if you have any questions for us at the Embarcadero Media Foundation, don’t hesitate to call our Pleasanton office. Just make sure you dial correctly…
Editor’s note: Jeremy Walsh is the editorial director for the Embarcadero Media Foundation’s East Bay Division. His “What a Week” column is a recurring feature in the Pleasanton Weekly.
