Eighty years ago, this Indiana radio worker is “tropicalizing” radio equipment. The chassis has just had a lacquer applied, and it is now passing through an infrared drying oven. The photo was taken at the Farnsworth Television and Radio Corp. in Marion, Indiana, and appeared on the cover of Radio News, January 1946.
If you were listening to the radio 100 years ago tonight, October 30, 1925, in Indianapolis, you would be able to tune in to the Claypool Trio, composed of Alma Miller Lentz on the violin, Carolyn Turner at the piano, and Consuelo Couchman Rettig on cello. The program was heard on WFBM (now WNDE), and this photo appeared in the Indianapolis Times, October 29, 1925.
Shown above is the radio service shop of Charles Hurt of Elkhart, Indiana, in 1940, shown here in the August 1940 issue of Service magazine. He had been in business for a number of years without really making a living, and realized that he had to make some changes. He figured out that to be profitable, he had to make a profit on every single transaction, and he established a bookkeeping system to make sure that happened.
He also realized that there was fierce competition in his area, any one of which were able to press their advantages and force him out of business. The answer was to expand his service area and do it efficiently. Therefore, he purchased the trailer shown here, made it his shop, and adopted the slogan “service at your door.”
Hurt is also shown in this illustration in the December 1940 issue of National Radio News, which notes that the arrangement was also advantageous to the customer, as they avoided charges for pickup and delivery. This item also reveals that for AC power, the trailer was equipped with a dynamotor and storage battery.
As John F. Kennedy famously said, we do some things not because they are easy, but because they are hard. We previously documented the hard way to start a library. And we recently discovered the hard way to decorate a baseball.
My family recently visited the world’s largest ball of paint, near Anderson, Indiana. (No, I didn’t coordinate the color of my shirt–that was just a happy coincidence.) At the core of this massive ball of paint is a baseball, that Mike Carmichael and his family began painting in 1977. Over the years, over 25,000 layers of paint cover the ball, which now weighs in at over 4,000 pounds, as attested to by the scale from which it now hangs. As the ball grew, Carmichael constructed a building to house it, and showed us the steel beam frame from which it hangs.
The ball is open to the public, and Carmichael is eager to show it off. In fact, visitors are often invited to add a coat of paint. We arrived at a time when the ball was wet from an earlier coat of paint that morning, so we weren’t able to contribute this time. He suggests that visitors contact him in advance, to ensure an opportunity to paint. He can be contacted through the ball’s official website.
Carmichael is a veteran and, not surprisingly, a house painter by trade.
Admission is free, although free-will donations are welcome. It’s open to the public 7 days a week from 9:00 to 5:00. We became aware of the existence of the ball of paint due to seeing hundreds of smiling sun lawn ornaments on lawns throughout the region. All of them were created by Carmichael, who explained that he began making them in 2020 during COVID as a way to bring a bit of joy to the community. They are also for sale. Of course, we purchased one, which will soon be on display at OneTubeRadio.com world headquarters.
This Zenith ad ran a hundred years ago today in the October 26, 1922, issue of the Richmond (Ind.) Palladium and Sun-Telegram. It asks the reader what they’re going to do that night, and speculates that they might play an uninteresting game of cards, sit in an uninteresting conversation, or spend the night in some time-killing chore or lukewarm hobby.
But real, diversified entertainment was at hand, in the form of radio! To find out more, all you had to do was call the Weisbrod’s music store, the town’s Zenith dealer, and set up an appointment to come into the store and see what their sets could pull in.
(Click on the ad to see a full size version.)
A hundred years ago, if you were a kid in South Bend, Indiana, and you wanted to get in on the excitement of radio, then this deal was for you.
All you had to do was sell twelve new subscriptions to the South Bend News-Times (just 20 cents a week for a minimum of 13 weeks), and you would earn yourself a radio receiving machine, absolutely free. This ad ran in the paper’s June 1, 1922, edition.
Pembroke Arcade. Image, historicindianapolis.com.
A hundred years ago today, the January 9, 1922, issue of the Indiana Daily Times carried this feature describing a radio store, Hoosier Radio Company of Indianapolis.
RADIO CREATES NOVEL BUSINESS
Wireless Telephone and Telegraph Open New Field.
Radio telegraphy, which a few years ago was regarded by the general public as only for real experts when operated on a big scale, for youngsters to amuse themselves with on a small scale, now has come to assume an important place in the life of the community, and the radio telephone Is In far more general use than the average person realizes.
This new science, developed along lines all its own, has resulted in the growth of an entirely new business, the supply business for radio equipment, according to L. H. Smith, president of the Hoosier Radio Company, 108 Pembroke Arcade.
“When radio work was Just becoming popular users of equipment found it difficult in the extreme to buy supplies. Supplies of this character were handled by only a few shops as a sideline, the clerks knew very little about them and the technical nature of the equipment made it almost impossible for anyone not enthusiastic about radio work to deal
intelligently with the trade,” Mr. Smith said.“This led me to establish a store handling nothing but supplies for radio telephone and radio telegraph equipment. My patronage comes from about every part of Indianapolis and Includes persons of all ages from the enthusiastic school boy to the business man, who is interested in radio work. I believe that at present there are more than 1,000 persons actively interested in radio work in this city and the number is steadily Increasing.
“There has been a genera! misunderstanding In the public mind as to the expense of a radio plant. Contrary to the general belief it is not at all prohibitory. A receiving set with a range of 4OO to 500 miles under favorable conditions may be purchased for $15, and no great amount of study is necessary to use these machines.
“Radio telephony is growing more popular every day, a popularity that is increased by the concerts sent out nightly by the Commonwealth-Edison Company of Chicago. These concerts are given by the Chicago Grand Opera Company and are heard in this city and all over the country. Dally concerts are sent out by the Westinghouse Company at Pittsburgh at the same time, and by simply tuning the instrument the owner of a wireless telephone plant has his choice of the music to which he desires to listen.”
The building in which this shop was located, shown above, the Pembroke Arcade, was located in downtown Indianapolis and built in 1895. It was what we would call today a shopping mall–an enclosed building with a large number of stores inside. It was torn down in 1943.
This item appeared a hundred years ago this month in the December 1921 issue of Talking Machine World. The Indiana State Board of Education determined that music was an important part of education. Accordingly, in its report card for schools, one criterion for scoring was that each elementary school in the state should equip every room with a talking machine and “ten good records.”
We don’t know for sure, but we’re guessing that this record would qualify as one of those ten good ones. Recorded in 1921, it’s entitled “Popular songs of yesterday” and is a medley of “Hail! Hail! The gang’s all here!” “The bowery,” “Sidewalks of New York,” ” Summertime,” and “Yip! I adde! I aye.”
You can listen by clicking the link below or by visiting the Library of Congress National Jukebox.
Fifty years ago today, the Emergency Broadcast System (EBS) sent out a warning that the nation was under attack. Thankfully, it turns out it wasn’t. A test was scheduled for that Saturday morning, but an operator at the Cheyenne Mountain complex put in the wrong tape. Instead of the tape announcing that it was only a test, he ran the tape for a real attack. It contained the code word “hatefulness” to authenticate the message.
At radio stations around the country, DJ’s ripped open the envelope next to the teletype machine containing the authenticating code. And sure enough, that was the correct code word for that day. Stations were supposed to cease normal operations and begin broadcasting information about the attack. But that information was never forthcoming.
Since a test had been scheduled, many stations suspected that there was an error, but it wasn’t confirmed officially for 40 minutes. The most famous recording from that day comes from WOWO in Ft. Wayne, Indiana, which you can hear in this video, where announcer Bob Sievers interrupted the Partridge Family with the news:
You can also listen to the event from WCCO Minneapolis at RadioTapes.com.
When this unnamed Hoosier took his girl fishing 80 years ago, we can’t help but believe that she was impressed by her date. Not only did he wear a tie for the occasion, but he demonstrated his ingenuity. He discovered that a steel fishing pole provided good reception when used as an antenna for his car. While the article doesn’t say, we have no doubt that he easily pulled in most of the Chicago stations in South Bend, Indiana, about 90 miles away. But when the couple arrived at the fishing hole, he removed the antenna and used it for its customary purpose as a fishing pole.
The photo appeared in the September 1940 issue of Popular Science, which doesn’t identify the couple, other than to note that he was a South Bend radio and fishing fan. We have no doubt that they had a fish dinner that night.
