Remember back, or imagine, a time before the Internet,
before email. Incredibly, correspondence was conducted by paper. Documents for
loans, credit card applications, legal proceedings or apartment leases were submitted
in person or by U.S. Mail. Life proceeded at a snail’s pace. And then the fax
(facsimile) was mass-produced and the speed of conducting business changed
overnight.
In my work I deal with a variety of suppliers. Periodically
throughout the year we sign and exchange necessary documents so that we can
continue to do business. It is the rare company at this point that is unable to
scan and email the forms I need. When asked for my fax number, I encourage them
to use email instead. The fax is essentially obsolete, just a few decades after
it gained mainstream acceptance.
I remember my first fax. I was working in California at a
computer services company with offices in several locations across the country.
We were notified that an important document was being sent from our Boston office. Get ready to receive a fax!
The machine I was trained on resembled something out of the
archives of Alexander Graham Bell, the one that produced the audio, “Mary had a
little lamb.” Pictured below is a system
similar to the one I used in 1986. I think it had been around for a while. It communicated through acoustic couplers
via a 4800 baud modem. Those of you who recall dialing into AOL in the 1990s
are familiar with the electronic whir and chirp of a “handshake” connection
being established through a phone line. I heard my first modem siren song in
1972 at the University of Illinois’s computer lab. I remember dialing a 1200
baud connection from our home phone just to see if it would work (it did). That
was the year Steve Jobs dropped out of college in Portland, Oregon.
The fax machine I first used had an elongated shiny metal
drum. We carefully wrapped a piece of rather expensive heat-sensitive paper
around the drum in preparation for an incoming document. We had one chance at
receiving the transmission. Screwing up the fax meant having to call the sender
to request a re-send. Not cool.
When our machine was ready, we called the Boston office and
told them to begin transmitting. Then magic happened. We heard the screeching
phone signal through our system. The two machines agreed to talk, and then a
thin metal armature began a journey across the slowly rotating metal drum.
Variances in temperature were transferred from the armature to the thermally
sensitive paper, etching out a rather poor quality representation of the
original document. The paper had a slightly oily coating, and touching it
anywhere on the surface smudged it immediately due to skin heat. It curled upon
removal from the drum, making it even harder to handle.
I dreaded the instances when I was required to use the fax,
even though I thought it was pretty fascinating. The opportunity for human
error (mine) was far too great. And having come full circle, I still dread
receiving faxes. I’m unsure where the receiving multifunction device is
located. I have to look up the number, and worse still, it requires that I get
out of my chair and walk down the hall. Just send me an email please. I’ll pick
it up on my iPhone.