Ask Lemmy
A Fediverse community for open-ended, thought provoking questions
Please don't post about US Politics. If you need to do this, try [email protected]
Rules: (interactive)
1) Be nice and; have fun
Doxxing, trolling, sealioning, racism, and toxicity are not welcomed in AskLemmy. Remember what your mother said: if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. In addition, the site-wide Lemmy.world terms of service also apply here. Please familiarize yourself with them
2) All posts must end with a '?'
This is sort of like Jeopardy. Please phrase all post titles in the form of a proper question ending with ?
3) No spam
Please do not flood the community with nonsense. Actual suspected spammers will be banned on site. No astroturfing.
4) NSFW is okay, within reason
Just remember to tag posts with either a content warning or a [NSFW] tag. Overtly sexual posts are not allowed, please direct them to either [email protected] or [email protected].
NSFW comments should be restricted to posts tagged [NSFW].
5) This is not a support community.
It is not a place for 'how do I?', type questions.
If you have any questions regarding the site itself or would like to report a community, please direct them to Lemmy.world Support or email [email protected]. For other questions check our partnered communities list, or use the search function.
Reminder: The terms of service apply here too.
Partnered Communities:
Logo design credit goes to: tubbadu
view the rest of the comments
Yes.
It was in the mid 1970s, I was young, and my grandfather had just died about a week prior.
The telephone rang at my grandmother’s house, and it was always my job to race through the house like an idiot and be the first person to pick up the phone.
“Hello?” I said into the phone.
My grandmother and people who were there at the time, would always listen from wherever they were in the house to learn who was calling. My mother and my grandmother were just a few feet away from me.
“Jak?” It was my grandfather’s voice.
My blood ran cold.
“Pops?” I said into the receiver.
Everyone in the room stopped talking, and turned towards me.
“Jak, put your grand mother on the phone this is important”. My grandfather said to me on the phone.
I stood there with the phone pressed against my ear, not believing what I was hearing.
“Jak?” My grandfather’s voice said again.
My mother and grandmother could tell by the look on my face that I wasn’t kidding.
“Jak!?” Again, his voice, but a little further away.
“Pops?!” I said again.
“Jak?” I could tell by the way he was talking he couldn’t hear me. A second later, his voice faded, and there was a dial tone.
Probably a friend pranking you
I was 6 years old and I know my grandfather’s voice.
Holy crap dude that story made me get the chills