Category Archives: Minnesota History

1971 EBS False Alarm

MushroomCloudFifty 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.



1941 Minnesota Radio Stations

1941FebServiceAs we’ve previously written, on March 29, 1941, most broadcasting stations in the United States changed frequency, as the top of the dial moved from 1500 kHz to 1600.  This listing shows all stations in Minnesota at that time.  The first column shows their old frequency, and the last column shows the new frequency, many of which still look familiar today.

The listing appeared in the February 1941 issue of Service magazine.



St. Paul, MN, City Radio System, 1951

1951FebFMTV

St. Paul Police Sgt. Hans Peterson.

Shown above, 70 years ago, is Sgt. Hans Peterson of the St. Paul, MN, Police Department, at the console of the city’s mobile radio system. The system was described in detail in a two-part series appearing in the February and March, 1951, issues of FM-TV-Radio Communications magazine, authored by the city’s Commissioner of Public Safety, Robert F. Peterson.

Peterson notes that, as in most other cities, greatly increased demands had been placed upon the police department since the war, due to added services, as well as additional crime and juvenile delinquency. And with the development of long-range aircraft, the city found itself closer to Russia than the cities on the east coast, making civil defense a concern. “Obviously, more manpower is indicated, but in St. Paul our 40-hour week and limited budget make any substantial increase in personnel out of the question.” Therefore, the city turned to technology, in the form of a modern radio system, to increase efficiency of officers. The system also handled traffic for the city of West St. Paul and the Ramsey County Sheriff’s Department.

Morrison caption.

Engineer Bob Morrison standing beside police cruiser. Selective call light is visible above center of windshield.

The system consisted of equipping 53 police vehicles, as well as fire stations and vehicles, with dual-frequency radios with selective calling capability. All outgoing calls were handled on 159.09 MHz from a console at the Public Safety Building. A leased telephone line led to the transmitter and receiver atop the First National Bank Building. The transmitter room was, understandably, kept locked at all times, and also had a CO2 fire suppression system installed. The door and fire system had monitors that were linked back to the main control point, so that the dispatcher would be aware of any intrusion or fire.

Normally, all units operated on 159.09 MHz. But the mobile units were all equipped to transmit on a secondary frequency of 158.97 MHz, which was continually monitored by the dispatcher. This allowed mobile units to make emergency calls even during longer broadcasts from the dispatcher.

A key element of the system was the selective calling ability. The console shown above was equipped with dozens of switches, one for each mobile unit. One of these could be switched on to selectively call any car. Normally, officers in the squad would be listening to the radio at all times. But previously, if they had to get out of the car to perform their duties, they were out of service for further calls. For example, if an officer were out of his squad car investigating a traffic accident and a robbery occurred just around the corner, there would be no way to alert the officer.

Selective calling provided a solution. When an officer was out of his car, he could still be alerted by a light mounted above the windshield, or perhaps a horn. These were connected the the selective calling system. If the officer was needed, the dispatcher would flip the switch, the light would come on, and the officer would know there was a priority call.

A duplicate console was connected. Shown below, radio operator Art Tweet is shown at this console. The radio operator was responsible for system operation, but in rush hours, he could assist the dispatcher.

Radio Operator Art Tweet

Radio Operator Art Tweet

Tierney caption.

Police Chief Charles J. Tierney.

Mattocks Caption.

Fire Chief William H. Mattocks.

Peterson Caption.

Commissioner of Public Safety Robert F. Peterson.

Ginther Caption.

Superintendent of Radio L.A. Ginther.



1921 Alarm Clock Extension

1921JanPMclock

1921Jan4BdjiPioneerAs you can see from the ad at the left, an alarm clock was a non-trivial expense a hundred years ago. This store, the the Given Hardware Company, 316-318 Minnesota Avenue, Bemidji, Minnesota, had models ranging in price from $2.00 to $5.75. That doesn’t sound like a lot of money, but according to this inflation calculator, that works out to a range of $28.92 to $83.14 in today’s money. If you had a clock in one room and wanted to hear the alarm in another room, going out and buying a new one would constitute an unnecessary expense.

You can compare that price to some of the perfectly functional, extremely accurate clocks below, all of which are probably orders of magnitude better than the 1921 model:

In fact, you can probably get a perfectly suitable alarm clock at the closest dollar store. So if you need an alarm clock in another room, or need a louder alarm clock, it’s a simple matter of going to the store or going to Amazon and just buying one.

But a hundred years ago, it was a problem best solved by ingenuity, as shown by the self-explanatory idea shown above. This relied on the fact that the glass of most alarm clocks could be rotated, but would still hold its position. Therefore, a small hole was drilled in the glass and a machine screw was carefully inserted so that it would contact the hour hand, but not interfere with the minute hand. A small piece of spring brass wire was soldered to the hour hand to serve as a brush and make contact. The alarm could be set to any desired time simply by revolving the glass.

In case you’re wondering how much the doorbell cost, this 1918 Western Electric catalog showed them starting for about $1.30, and the dry cell battery was about 60 cents.

This idea appeared in the January, 1928, issue of Popular Science, and had been sent in to the magazine by one G.H. Rouse. The ad appeared in the Bemidji Daily Pioneer, January 4, 1921.



Ernest Sperling, 9BBF, W9BKX

1921Jan26NewUlmThis article appeared a hundred years ago today, in the January 26, 1921 issue of the New Ulm (MN) Review.

HEARS CONCERTS OVER WIRELESS

ERNST SPERLING LISTENS TO MUSIC PRODUCED IN MASSACHUSSETS

TONAL QUALITY AS GOOD AS IF RENDERED IN SAME ROOM HE SAYS

Listening to a high class phonograph concert being rendered in far off Massachusetts while comfortably seated your New Ulm home is one of the joys of life not accorded to all of our citizens, but one of our well-known young men enjoys this entertainment frequently, sometimes twice and three times a week. This young man is Ernst Sperling, son of Prof. and Mrs. J. E. Sperling, who has a modernly a completely equipped wireless telegraph apparatus installed the home of his parents on [21] South Jefferson street.

Special Apparatus Needed.

A special apparatus, known as the audion receiving set, is necessary to receive music by wireless. This apparatus is more sensitive and of a better grade than the regular wireless receiving instrument. There is very little electrical energy used in transmitting music waves by wireless, so that the detector must be unusually sensitive, or the other tones will not be clear. Another important factor in the transmission of music via wireless is the prevailing weather conditions. If the air is clear and quiet, with no perceptible wind, the music is much more audible and there is no rising or falling of the tone During a wind that is strong enough to sway the antenna the music sounds as if it were being played on a phonograph, the modultor of which is being changed constantly.

News Every Night.

Mr. Sperling spends a considerable part of his spare time evenings at his wireless instrument and receives many messages containing accounts of important happenings not only in this country but abroad also. One of the principal sources of this in formation is the big wireless station on Arlington Heights, near Washington, D. C., from which such messages are sent out every evening. He also receives messages from commercial stations every section of the United States, the most distant one being located in Alaska.

“Connect” With Europe.

Mr Sperling is at present working on a large receiving set, which, when completed, will enable him to get wireless messages direct from Europe, thus enlarging the scope of his wire less work. Quite a number of interested New Ulmites have visited the Sperling home to view the young man’s wireless apparatus and have him explain its workings.

Later in the year, the newspaper’s June 1, 1921, edition reported that young Mr. Sperling had agreed to supply farm market reports to the telephone company, which made them available to local farmers.

Sperling is listed in the 1922 callbook as being licensed as 9BBF (with his name spelled Ernest). His father, Prof. J.E. Sperling of Dr. Martin Luther College is listed in this yearbook as a Pastor Emeritus of the Joint Wisconsin Synod of the Lutheran Church.

In the 1937 callbook, Ernest is listed as one of two licensees, along with one Victor H. Schleuder, as licensee of W9BKX of 313 S. State St., New Ulm. He is listed in the 1940 census as living at 21 South Franklin.

 



Pulling In Blacked Out Games: 1970

1970NovPMcoverI don’t remember if I saw this particular magazine, the November 1970 issue of Popular Mechanics, but I did see magazines like it, and I was intrigued. I had absolutely no interest in sports, but I was interested in pulling in distant TV stations. We had it pretty good for television signals in Minneapolis-St. Paul. We had 5 VHF stations, and if you moved the loop antenna just right, you could pull in channel 17 on the elusive UHF dial. Our local newspaper and the local edition of TV Guide listed only these channels. In the paper, channels 2-11 were shown in a grid, with the schedule for channel 17 printed in small type in a corner of the page.

But occasionally, we would travel to surrounding areas, and when we did, if I could scrape together enough change, I bought a copy of TV Guide. The Minnesota edition listed all of the Twin Cities stations, but it was also chock full of listings of other stations. By and large, they were all the same programs. But some of my favorites were on at different times. I just needed a way to pull in these stations.

We never did it, because the rabbit ears worked just fine for our local channels. But I dreamed of putting up an outdoor antenna to pull in those elusive signals. Articles like this spurred my dreams.

This particular article was penned by prolific electronics writer Len Buckwalter. The target audience was sports fans. Games were “blacked out” in those days. Football was particularly affected by these “blackouts”. Today, sports is a television event. But then, the thinking was that if the game were on TV, attendance at the stadium would suffer. They figured that nobody over a hundred miles away would drive to see the game, so it was safe to put it on TV there. But unless the game was sold out, it wouldn’t be televised locally.

So if you were in the team’s city, if you wanted to watch the game, you had two choices. Either you could buy a ticket and see it in person, or you could watch it on a distant TV station. Some people drove to other cities to watch the game. It was cheaper to rent a hotel room and drive there, so that’s what some people did. But some people put up a big enough antenna so they could watch the game at home, and that’s what Buckwalter’s article told you how to do.

He explained a number of possibilities. If you already had an outdoor antenna, then what you needed was a rotor, so you could steer it toward the city where the game was playing. Of course, your picture might still be full of snow, so putting a pre-amp on the mast might do the trick.

1970NovPMantennaswitchParticularly avid sports fans could purchase a separate yagi antenna tuned to the channel carrying the game, and point that toward the out-of-town station. They could install a knife switch like the one shown here. On game day, they would switch on the yagi. On other days, you would switch back to the antenna receiving the local channels.

To demonstrate the art, the article carried screen shots showing a baseball game broadcast on Channel 8 in New Haven, CT., being pulled in by an antenna in New York City. With an outdoor antenna a pre-amp, the picture quality was actually better than a New York channel with an average antenna setup.



Armistice Day Blizzard: 80th Anniversary

Armistice Day Blizzard, Excelsior Blvd., West of Minneapolis. Minn. Historical Society photo, NOAA.

Armistice Day Blizzard, Excelsior Blvd., West of Minneapolis. Minn. Historical Society photo, NOAA.

Wednesday, Veterans’ Day or Armistice Day, is the 102nd anniversary of the end of World War I. But in Minnesota and the Upper Midwest, it is remembered as the 80th anniversary of the Armistice Day Blizzard of 1940, which was responsible for taking 145 lives. Here are two previous posts about that blizzard:

UN 75th Anniverssary

Photo, Minn. Historical Society, via Minn. Alumni Assn.

Photo, Minn. Historical Society, via Minn. Alumni Assn.

For better or worse, the United Nations came into existence on this day 75 years ago, October 24, 1945. The organization came about as the result of the conference in San Francisco that summer, while the war in the Pacific was still raging. Shown above is former Minnesota Governor Harold Stassen signing the charter as part of the U.S. delegation. At the time of his death in 2001, Stassen had been, for a number of years, the last living signatory of that document.



Hammarlund Receiver at WCCO-TV, 1970

1970SeptHamRadioShown here in this Hammarlund ad from the September 1970 issue of Ham Radio magazine is part of the equipment of WCCO-TV in Minneapolis, whoss transmitter was then located in the Foshay Tower. The station had a Hammarlund HQ-180-AX receiver mounted on the rack as part of its frequency measuring equipment. The receiver was used to tune in WWV to zero beat the station’s calibrator. Then, signals were received on the receiver and beat against that calibrator.

The receiver was also used to check the tuning of transmitter multiplier stages, to receive time checks from WWV, and as a backup Emergency Broadcasting System receiver.

Shown in the picture is transmitter engineer Stan Allison, and the letter to Hammarlund describing the setup is penned by transmitter supervisor Gerald King Ellison.



Rogers Bros. Razors, 1920

1920MayElecExpThese ads appeared a hundred years ago in the May 1920 issue of Electrical Experimenter.  The one that caught my eye was the ad for the Rogers Bros. safety razor, using Gillette blades, from the D.A.R. Sales Company of 2521 17th Avenue South, Minneapolis.

The 1920 Minneapolis City Directory shows no company by that name. However, the current building at that address, a small apartment building, was built in 1917.  In 1920, it was the residence of one Freeman T. Rogers, a clerk with Northwest Marble & Tile Co. Since he has the same surname as the razor, I assume he was the proprietor. Two other men, Arthur J. Nordstrom, employed as an estimator by Janney Semple Hill & Co., and David M Burns, a laborer, are also listed as residing at that address.

Rogers, born about 1895, is listed in the 1940 census, still living in South Minneapolis.  This would have made him about 25 years old at the time of his entrepreneurial venture into the home-based razor business.  I wonder if his bosses at the marble company knew if he was moonlighting.

For others looking for a business to get into, the battery charging business couldn’t be beat, as shown by the second ad.