What We Did Before

Before public health departments and pest control companies, cities employed official rat catchers who prowled streets and sewers with terriers, traps, and bare hands. We're diving deep into this grimy, dangerous profession that kept medieval and Victorian cities from being overrun—exploring their ingenious techniques, their surprising celebrity status, and the one royal rat catcher whose collection of dead vermin made him famous across England.

Before sunrise every morning, two rival armies raced through American neighborhoods: icemen hauling 50-pound blocks and milkmen clinking glass bottles. They fought over routes, customers, and that precious real estate—your front porch—until refrigeration changed everything.

Before smartphones and electric buzzers, waking up on time required serious creativity—and sometimes other people. From professional human alarm clocks who tapped on windows with long poles to candles with nails that clanged into pans, we're counting down the most peculiar wake-up methods that got our ancestors out of bed.

While most American cities had switched to electric streetlights by the 1920s, a handful of gas lamps remained—and someone had to light them. Meet John O'Connor, Boston's last lamplighter, who climbed ladders with a wick and pole every evening for forty years, becoming a living relic in a world that had moved on without him.

Before wireless communication, two groups of skilled workers competed for the future of instant messaging: the lightning-fast telegraph girls who could tap out Morse code at 40 words per minute, and the smooth-talking switchboard operators who manually connected every phone call. We explore how these two professions clashed, coexisted, and ultimately faced obsolescence as automation changed everything.

Before your fridge kept things cold, an entire industry of ice harvesters, ice cutters, and icebox repairmen kept America from spoiling. We're counting down five jobs that melted away when refrigeration arrived—from the icemen who delivered 300-pound blocks at dawn to the sawdust packers who made sure your ice lasted through summer.

Before telegraphs connected the coasts, young riders on horseback carried mail 2,000 miles across the American frontier in just 10 days—a marvel of speed that seemed impossible. We trace the entire arc of the Pony Express, from its ambitious launch in April 1860 to its quiet shutdown in October 1861, revealing how this short-lived operation became one of the most romanticized chapters in American history.

It wasn't always a party!

What we used to have to endure!

What We Did Before best of episode!