I never would have recalled it, dimly or otherwise, but recently a friend suggested, “Why don’t you write an Ampersandia about elevators and how they have changed?”

So, the mental wheels started turning and I remember describing my anti-elevator attitude. I didn’t even want to research any details about the inventor because his so-called wonderful invention made me feel sick.

In those days, elevators in department stores and any public buildings required elevator operators. Passengers entered the rather claustrophobic cubicle and the operator manipulated controls to go “up or down.”

During the ascent or descent my stomach was very unhappy with the motion and when we reached the next floor the entire cubicle shuddered and the operator could not seem to match the floor level to that of the building.

Always it involved a few tries of bouncing up and down, first a few inches above and then a few inches below until finally the operator would say in an expressionless tone, “Step up, please” or “Step down, please.” And we did.

Those “mechanical contraptions” to quote from my antagonistic essay, were never easily managed and my stomach suffered through the ups and downs with each jerk and jolt.

Elevator operators wore trim uniforms and that was one occupation that eventually accepted women. I remember thinking how boring, monotonous and stomach-upsetting that employment would be.

It always seemed to take several minutes for my stomach to regain its stationary position after leaving the elevator. Fortunately all buildings included stairs, a much more desirable alternative, but as the years galloped along, buildings grew taller and elevators became more efficient and less stomach-churning.

In fact they evolved into such automatic efficiency that the passengers are obligated to do the operating. In our modern push-button world, many things have changed and I grudgingly admit that the evolution of elevators has produced a smoother ride for the stomach.

But memory can never cancel that era of more primitive vertical transportation.

Eventually I was curious enough to research the elevator inventor. My encyclopedia volumes were published about 1950 but their information is still valid and pertinent if you don’t need details of anything in the last half-century. I know that computers are much less primitive but books are much more fun.

I learned that Elisha Graves Otis was born in Vermont in 1811 and about 40 years later he invented the ingenious machine called the elevator.

Lengthy explanation of how the elevator worked left me unable to comprehend all the terms, such as hoisting cables, pulleys, counterweight, direct traction, hydraulic lift, oil buffers and even water pressure.

The summary did mention that the modern elevators were now operated by electricity with the exception of some of the hydraulic versions for moving heavy freight.

No further chronicles summarized the achievements of Mr. Otis nor any rewards or honors he may have earned. It merely listed his death date as 1861.

Reaching back to my words of that approximately 75-years-ago essay, I can’t think why I chose that subject. It reflected my intense opposition to elevators in general because of my queasy stomach.