Everything I know about patchbays, I learned from my mother.
No, seriously. She was a Bell System operator in my home town in the mid '50s, when they still had few enough phones (under 250) in that exchange to do all the switching with manual boards. Ahh, coffee-grinder phones: you'd grind it to pulse the "incoming line" alert on the boards, and whoever patched to your line first got to route your call for you, *in person*. If they liked you, they'd even announce you to the receiving party after ringing them. This really happened: it is not just a fictional old-movie affectation.
I remember when they upgraded to the newfangled step-by-step relay frames (sacrelige! *dial* phones!) in the early 60s, and everybody got 4-digit phone numbers, and they scrapped the boards. I went out on the rack floor in the brandy-new switchroom in the brandy-new exchange, and the roar of all those relays stepping was *amazing*, even drowning out the big diesel generator that provided the +48v battery voltage (and you thought that phantom power was a *recent* development...).
I wish I could have sampled that sound: the sound of a rippin' step-by-step relay telephone exchange. It'd fit perfectly in a tune I'm currently working on, about how bizarre it is that people are just letters on a screen these days. And only 1 in 100,000 listeners (and fewer every day, as the old phone people die off) would have any freakin' clue what that noise was. No smiley.
Maybe I should find out if there are any step-by-step exchanges in service anymore, and do a little location recording, no?
It's fun to call my ol' mammy up and talk to her these days. Even 45 years later, she's still the "Voice with a Smile" when she answers an incoming line. Wonder if anybody still employed at AT&T even remembers _that_ part of the original mission statement.
WECO-spec longframe patchbays *never fail*. And now you know part of the reason why.