The drama student shown above appeared on the cover of the February 1948 issue of Radio News. The young thespian was an early adopter of magnetic recording technology, one of the many civilian technological advances that came from wartime industry. She used a wire recorder from Webster-Chicago Corp. to practice her diction and delivery.

Of course, home sound recording had been possible for some time, thanks to disc records such as the Recordio. But magnetic recording media had the great advantage of being reusable.

The magazine contained a number of features, and it does contain a very complete look at the state of the art in 1948. The two competing formats were wire and tape. Wire held a slight lead in fidelity, but tape was easier to work with, especially when it came to editing and splicing. Interestingly, the magnetic recording tape of the time was actually paper tape with a thin magnetic coating. Typical speed was 8 inches per second.

Among the features of the issue was a construction article for the tape recorder shown here. The project was said to be “well within the capabilities of anyone who has a working knowledge of electronic circuits and who has ordinary mechanical ability.” The mechanical ability was important, because all of the parts had to be made. A metalworking lathe was required, although the article noted that those without one could have the parts custom made at a local shop at low cost. As one of the mechanical diagrams shown at right shows, the construction did require some mechanical skill. Apparently, 75 years ago, that level of skill was ordinary.

The recording/playback and erase heads also had to be homemade, and consisted of a coil wound on a laminated core and placed in a shielded enclosure with just a small opening for the tape. The choice of material for the core was critical, and had to be permalloy. The type of material normally used for transformer cores would not work. The best solution was to buy a particular type of audio transformer, disassemble it, and use the lamination material for winding the heads.

Sixty years ago, the editors of Popular Mechanics did some testing of the latest toy offerings to see how they would hold up to rough use. The results appeared in the November 1962 issue.

One of the most intriguing toys they tested was the $40 Saranade doll from Westinghouse, shown above. But Saranade was much more than a doll. She was what one site called a “creepy Part 15 doll.” She came complete with her own record player (which played all speeds, 78 through 16 RPM). But it wasn’t just any record player. The player had a “DOLL – PHONO” switch. In the phono position, it played just like any other record player. But in the doll position, the speaker cut out, and the sound came out of a speaker strategically placed in the doll’s stomach.

The player had a one-tube amplifier inside, and when the switch was flipped, it became a transmitter on 180 kHz, in the Part 15 Lowfer band.  In fact, it’s the only commercial product that I can think of that took advantage of this band. The doll contained a receiver, apparently transistorized, tuned to this signal. The doll contained neither tuning nor volume control. Fine tuning was accomplished with a control on the record player.

As with other toys reviewed, both the doll and record player survived drop tests, and were pronounced by the editors to be suitable for rough service at the hands of kids. Other items reviewed were the megaphone and perfume kit shown below, as well as the General Electric model EF 150 5 transistor shortwave receiver kit, which retailed for $29.95.

A hundred years ago, phonograph dealers started to realize that radio was, indeed, going to be a thing. And if they wanted to remain profitable, they would have to start selling radios.

The August 1922 issue of Talking Machine World included a number of radio ads, of which this one was typical. The general theme was that if you wanted to stay in business, then you should start selling the other kind of talking machine, namely, the radio.

This one, from the Harpanola Company of Celina Ohio, itself a phonograph maker (and before that, furniture maker) was typical. The time to act was now, and you couldn’t wait for the horse to be stolen before locking the barn door. There were radio stores out there, but the ad admonished the phonograph dealer to “let the radio stores sell the experimenters and the boys.” The phonograph dealer would be the place to go for those who wanted a “drawing room” radio, in a well-finished cabinet. The company promised that it would “show you the way to introduce cabinet radios successfully. The profits and volume of sales are going to set new records in money-making.”