Seventy-five years ago today, the Sunday funnies of the Milwaukee Journal, Aug. 20, 1944, carried this ad for a familiar product with a slightly unfamiliar name.
Just to make sure everyone knew, Cheerios (then known as Cheerioats) didn’t require cooking, and they had a cute donut shape with a brown toast color that kids loved. They stayed crispy even in cream. The product had been introduced by General Mills in 1941, and the name was changed to Cheerios in 1945.
Fifty years ago this month, the August 1969 issue of Electronics World contained a good description of the communications system used by the Apollo space program. Even though the issue is dated August, it went to press prior to the Apollo 11 mission, so it was written in the future tense.
Each backpack contained an extra-vehicular communications system (EVCA) built by RCA. That consisted of a transceiver measuring 14 x 6 x 1.25 inches and weighing (on Earth, presumably) 6.5 pounds. Both backpack units contained two AM transmitters and two FM receivers, plus telemetry instruments. In another respect, the suits were not identical. One EVCA contained an FM transmitter, and the other contained an FM receiver. This allowed the astronaut equipped with the receiver to serve as a relay for voice and data from the other astronaut to the Lunar Module (LM).
The FM signal was transmitted on 279 MHz, and the AM signal was on either 259.7 or 296.8 MHz. From the LM, the signals were retransmitted to Earth on an S-band transmitter on 2282.5 MHz. The main antenna for this link was a 26 inch steerable dish on the LM, with about 20 dB gain. As a backup, an erectable antenna that opened like an umbrella was set up on a tripod. This antenna had 32 dB gain, measured 10 feet in diameter, and weighed 14 pounds.
Live TV from the moon came from a 7 pound camera manufactured by Westinghouse. Compared to US broadcast television, which used 525 lines and 30 frames per second, the camera transmitted 320 lines at 10 frames per second. The reduced video quality was to conserve both power and bandwidth. The signal from the lunar camera could operate on 500 kHz bandwidth, compared to 4.5 MHz for commerical TV. The conversion to make the signal available to broadcast networks was taken care of on Earth. The signal went back to earth on the S-band transmitter.
Navigation signals from Earth were on 2101.8 MHz, with data from both the LM and Command Module (CM) being transmitted on 2282.5 MHz.
Other contractors involved in supplying the gear were Collins Radio, which provided the S-band signal processor, Motorola for the S-band transceivers, Raytheon for the S-band power amp, and Dalmo-Victor for the S-band antenna. All gear was solid state, with the exception of an amplitron tube in the S-band amplifier.
Baysinger pulling in the lunar signals. Louisville Courier-Journal, via ARRL.
With the frequencies and details published, one might wonder whether earthbound listeners other than NASA tuned in to the astronauts’ signals from the moon. Almost certainly the Soviets were listening, but it turns out that one American ham was listening in, as detailed by this story at the ARRL website. Larry Baysinger, W4EJA, of Louisville, KY, was able to pull off the feat, thanks to an 8×12 foot corner horn antenna. He picked up the VHF signals (presumably the AM ones), and did not attempt to receive the S-band signals bound for Earth. He recorded 35 minutes, including the message from President Nixon.
In the early 1960s, the City of Minneapolis decided to engage in some urban renewal, which consisted of razing most of the Gateway district, also known as Skid Row. The area contained many hotels and boarding houses occupied largely by middle aged and older men who were or had been laborers.
One of the accommodations was the Pioneer Hotel, a “cage hotel,” meaning that the individual rooms were made of plywood, with chicken wire serving as the ceiling. Before the area was torn down, the City of Minneapolis decided to document conditions by taking photographs. In the process, the Pioneer Hotel became one of the most photographed flophouses in History.
The city photos include the one shown above, taken in 1960, from the collections of the Minnesota Historical Society. The room was small, but it was this gentleman’s home until the city tore it down. On the dresser is what appears to be the most valuable possession shown in the room, a radio. It’s shown zoomed in at the left. It is a Silvertone model 9280, manufactured for Sears in about 1949 or 1950.
The 5 tube portable (Two 1U4s, a 1R5, and a 3V4, plus selenium rectifier) ran on either AC or batteries. It appears to be plugged in to the single lamp socket near the window, and it’s unlikely that the owner spent much of his money on B batteries.
The ten year old set was probably a pretty good performer, as it contained one RF stage in addition to the normal superhet lineup. You can see the same model radio playing at the following video:
Seventy years ago, an aspiring young publisher could make up to 100 copies of important announcements, newsletters, or other documents, by way of the hectograph. The process is described here in the August 1949 issue of Boys’ Life magazine.
Back in the day, acquiring all of the needed parts was simple, as they were available at any office or school supply store. Unfortunately, they are not available in prepackaged form any longer, but at our website, we have have instructions for making yours at home, and the process is quite simple.
For those not familiar with the process, the hectograph was the simpler version of the mimeograph. The image is drawn or typed on paper using special hectograph ink. The ink can come from a special sheet of carbon paper or from markers, and both are still readily available. This image is then transferred to a gelatin surface, and from there it’s transferred to the sheet you want to print. The prefix “hecto” means 100, but in practice, you’ll probably get a bit fewer copies.
If you’re looking for an interesting science fair project, this one from the August 1939 issue of Popular Science is interesting, looks like you put a lot of work into it, but is really quite simple. It answers the scientific question, “does the temperature of an electrolyte solution affect the conductivity?” It turns out, as this experiment will show, that the answer is yes. As the temperature increases, so does the conductivity. (Or to put it another way, as the temperature goes up, the resistance goes down.)
The experiment, as shown above, is relatively simple. You should be able to find all of the required supplies locally (if you don’t already have them at home). If you want to order online, the links below are to Amazon.
The 1939 version of the experiment shows old fashioned dry cell batteries, but modern alkaline D cell batteries will work just fine. You can figure out some other way to attach the wires to the batteries, but life is a lot easier if you use a battery holder.
Any flashlight bulb will work, as long as it’s from a flashlight that normally uses 2 batteries. This one is suitable. Again, you can figure out some other way to connect the wires, but having a socket will make things easier. Finally, for the electric hookups, you will need some kind of wire, although almost any will work just fine.
The two electrodes going into the solution can be almost anything metallic. I would recommend using some large nails.
You’ll need a beaker and some lab hardware to support it while heating, although if you should be able to borrow that from your science teacher. If you’re doing the experiment in the school lab, you can use a bunsen burner. If you’re doing it elsewhere, you’ll need a heat source such as an alcohol burner.
The experiment calls for either salt water or sulfuric acid. You surely have salt at home. If you prefer to go with sulfuric acid, you can order that online, or ask for it in the hardware store, where it’s available as a drain cleaner.
The young man shown here is brushing up on the International Morse Code thanks to the simple code practice oscillator described in the August 1939 issue of Popular Science.
The one-tube unit, containing a 12A7, ran directly off the line cord, with a 300 ohm line cord resistor dropping the filament voltage. A power switch and pitch control on the front panel meant that he could start practicing at any time.
Shown here, in the August-September 1944 issue of National Radio News are Richard and Amy Feil of Dixie-Fixit Radio Hospital, Lima, Ohio. The shop was strictly service, and handled the radio maintenance for sixteen dealers, including department stores and auto dealers. The shop efficiently handled a large volume thanks to its systematic procedure. When sets came in, they weree given a ticket, and went onto a shelf in the order received. Next, the chassis was removed from the cabinet, and each was moved to the next shelf. When finished, they moved to a third shelf.
The sets were serviced strictly in the order received, and if the shelves were full, the shop was closed to new sets. Service was promised within 1-2 weeks.
The shop also had a three bay garage where auto sets were serviced.
If you had put together this minimalist little shortwave set when it was published in Popular Science in August 1939, you would have been able to use it to pull in the news of the beginning of World War II the next month.
The little set is simplicity itself. It uses a single 1E7G tube, a dual pentode. Half is used as regenerative detector, with the other half serving as audio amplifier. There are only three controls on the front panel: The tuning dial, regeneration control (with on-off switch built in) and another potentiometer for adjusting filament voltage. The voltage was a compromise, since the RF section needed slightly less voltage than the audio amplifier, but there was still plenty of volume left to drive the headphones and pull in the war news.
Shown here is Canadian Boy Scout Frank Lay, of the 67th Winnipeg (St. Aidan’s) Troop. He is featured on the cover of the August 1944 issue of Manitoba Calling, the monthly program guide of CKY Winnipeg, and sister station CKX in Brandon, Manitoba.
The entire issue of the magazine paid tribute to the value of Scout training for Citizenship. It noted that while scouting was designed as peace training, the organization had a fine record in its services to the war effort. At least 100,000 members of the Armed Forces had been Scouts. Indeed, of the 63 Victoria Crosses awarded to date, eight were won by former Scouts.
The magazine includes the reminiscences of W.F. “Bill” Seller, the manager of station CKX. The magazine calls him probably the veteran of all old Scouts in Canada, as he was a member of one of the earliest troops, in fact the first official troop formed in London. It noted that when Lord and Lady Baden-Powell visited Winnipeg in 1935, they met with Seller and exchanged reminiscenses of the early days of Scouting in England.
Here is the full text of Seller’s article:
Early Days in the Boy Scouts
By W. F. SELLER (Manager CKX)
Robert Baden-Powell at the first Scout encampment on Brownsea Island held in August 1907. Wikipedia image.
In August, 1907, two men, an orderly and 20 boys pitched tents and hoisted a Union Jack on Brownsea Island, near my home at Poole, Dorset, England. The leader of the party, General Baden-Powell with a friend (Major MacLaren), was making his first experiment in teaching English lads the scouting games he had learned himself as a boy and had used to such good advantage in South Africa, to test his idea of an organization for boys.
The twenty boys were gathered from several sources, from Eton and Harrow and from elementary schools; from the homes of the aristocracy and from the fisherman’s cottage. The troop was divided into four Patrols–each with a leader, Curlews – Ravens -Wolves -and Bulls. From morning till night they were busy learning to live in the open, to cook their own meals, to develop their powers of observation and above all to cultivate comradeship.
Canadian Scouts training for the Fireman’s badge, 1944.
Baden-Powell taught them how to follow trails, how to find a few grains of Indian corn in an acre of heather and how to hide and find messages in trees. Then, too, there were organized games and bathing and all the time these twenty boys were unconsciously acquiring habits of self control, fair play and manliness; in other words, the underlying principles of the Boy Scout Movement. The evenings were topped off with the group gathering round the campfire listening to thrilling stories, bird calls, lessons on stalking and singing, all led by “The Chief “.
By the end of two weeks Baden-Powell had proved that his scheme was sound to the core and he settled down to launch it upon the world. Its value was soon realized, the movement grew and Baden-Powell not only became a hero to but beloved by boys throughout the world.
1909 uniform, scouts.org.uk image.
For the first few weeks after getting our shorts, shirts, hats and shoes, etc., we used to carry the stuff up to the woods, change under the rhododendron bushes, practise our scouting and then in native’s dressing rooms change back again and amble off home.
After a while we decided that this would not do: if we were going to be Scouts we should be proud of the fact, and so we went one step farther and we changed into uniform in the shack and all marched in patrol formation to our scouting practises. For a time we had to take the public taunts of other boys whose ideas of sport were not always satisfied with wordy insults, but were backed up with sticks, stones and sometimes eggs!
Paying Their Way
1909 Crystal Palace Scout Rally. Wikipedia photo.
Soon, however, we had two patrols of ten each and we looked for a scoutmaster and rented accommodation in one of the schools. To pay the rent, we each donated a few coppers each week to the club funds. If one could afford six -pence o.k., if only a penny, again o.k. But often when rent day came around funds were inadequate, so instead of “scouting” on the Saturday afternoon, we would all go out and hunt up odd jobs, running errands, digging gardens, cutting lawns, etc. Everyone brought in whatever he had earned to the common funds and it worked. Came the day when we had three patrols and could officially qualify as a “troop “. We applied for a Charter and Troop Flag, which was presented to us at a special ceremony at Canford Manor by Lady Wimborne and so we became the first troop of Boy Scouts in the world, registered as the 1st Parkstone Troop, afterward Lady Baden Powell’s own. We attended the first scout rally which was held at the Crystal Palace, London. 15,000 I believe were present, and we were impressed by the size of the old Crystal Palace, when due to rain the march past was held entirely under glass. The following year we attended the rally at Windsor Castle and later one at Birmingham. This last, numbering close to 200,000, was made most interesting for us by the presence in our troop of a prince of the royal house of Ethiopia, dressed in his native costume, one of the sons of Haille Selassi. The lad, about 13, had stowed away on a liner leaving his country for Great Britain and had to remain in England until dignataries from Ethiopia could arrive and return with him in befitting splendour. He was sent to our home town and in despair the gentleman responsible for his care asked our troop to share the responsibility and many were the interesting episodes provided by this young man.
I believe the troop justified its membership in the great brotherhood of scoutdom. Our ambulance patrol was on duty at most public functions and a sports gathering including the first flying meet ever held. This was at Bournemouth, and during this meet the pioneer A. V. Rowe was killed in a vol-planing competition. [Louis] Bleriot, the first man to fly the English Channel, was there and we also saw [Hubert] Latham flying one of the first monoplanes, a crazy looking contraption with the appearance of an over -developed kite. We had the first King’s Scouts and the first Silver Wolf; won many district and national trophies, and had a good time doing it, with clean keen competition and the joy of contest rather than conquest being strongly stressed.
I could ramble on like all pioneers, to tell you of the time when camping, the troop saved a group of cottages from destruction by forest fire, the time a boat -load of us were nearly drowned but for the timely rescue of the Coast Guards, the course of home nursing undertaken by some of the boys, the concerts we ran, the bazaars we organized to rase our own funds.
“B.P.’s” Marriage
I could tell how we got news of Baden-Powell’s wedding at St. Peter’s Church, Parkstone, and were able to turn out in time to salute him and his bride.
We were very fortunate that Baden – Powell had selected our district for his experiment and that he chose a lady from our home town for his bride, for as a result, we enjoyed many informal visits and interesting evenings at our club rooms with the Chief himself. Many members of that first troop of Scouts are living in Canada and most of that same troop served in the first World War. We all carry pleasant memories of the wonderful experiences we had as Scouts and one of my prized possessions is the old Scout shirt resplendent with badges, all-round cords and service stars, together with the scarf and many pictures that are now historical but unfortunately not good enough for reproduction.
Shown here a hundred years ago this month, on the cover of the August 1919 issue of Radio Amateur News, is Alfred H. Grebe. The magazine contains an article by the radio pioneer about his experiments with mobile radio. He found that the radiotelephone set mounted in the car worked well, and that 150 meters gave the best results. The transmitter was of the latest design, and the receiver was a regenerative set with a variometer. While it was still at the experimental stage and no definitive measurements were made, he did note that both ship and land stations within a few hundred miles were heard. Even with shielding, the spark plugs of his car limited the range, and the interference from other cars could be heard for quite some distance.
Grebe was involved in the beginnings of WCBS radio, and when he died in 1935 at the age of 40, his obituary appeared in the New York Times.
