Shown here, as it appears today and as it appeared 75 years ago, is the corner of 6th and Francis St., St. Joseph, MO. Today, it’s the office of an insurance company, but 75 years ago, it was Lee’s Record & Radio Shop, profiled in the November 1946 issue of Radio Retailing.
The rent was high, but the street traffic was heavy, so the store took advantage of a big eye-catching display to lure customers into the store. According to Tillie Frankhauser, the manager, the store was spectacularly in the black. The corner was the second busiest in the city, and owner Lee Drowther took advantage of it. The store was self-service, with albums lined up on the shelf in eye-catching displays. There were two types of listening booths, a stand-up type for quick appraisal of a record, and leather trimmed enclosed booths for serious listening. Plans were in place to construct a mezzanine area for demonstration of radios.
A hundred years ago, the cost of a phonograph was becoming reasonable so that most Americans could afford one. But for the frugal handyman, there was another option, as shown here in the October 1921 issue of Popular Science.
Not only could the home craftsman make his own phonograph and save some money, but the homemade version would be superior to most commercial phonographs. The majority of the machines were hand-crank phonographs, but this one was electric, relying on a motor powered either by batteries or household current.
The platter was made of a piece of brass, with another strip of brass soldered to the edge. This was driven by the motor using a friction drive made of a typewriter eraser
like the one shown here. Surprisingly, you can still buy a manual typewriter, but this style of typewriter eraser is no longer made. Like everything, however, you can find them on eBay.
The magazine explains how to construct the pickup and tone arm, which consists of a brass tube and the lid from a jelly jar. The board at the rear not only supports the tone arm, but serves as a sounding board, presumably providing room-filling audio.
One issue that is not addressed by the article is how to regulate the speed, since the motor will need to be spinning at about the right number of revolutions per minute. The relative size of the eraser and platter will, of course, provide some gearing, and there would be some room for experimentation. And with a DC motor, the voltage could be used to get the speed right. But the motor is going to have to start out at approximately the right speed, so some experimentation would be necessary for which motor to use.
As long as the craftsman got the bugs worked out, the result would be a quality phonograph, albeit not as aesthetically pleasing as the one normally found in the parlor. Students looking for an interesting science fair project can follow the instructions provided by Mr. Wizard in the video below. All you need is a pencil, a pin, a piece of construction paper, some tape, and, of course, a record that you don’t mind suffering possible damage.
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The October 1941 issue of Popular Science showed how to put together this radio-phonograph stand. The phonograph was placed in a drawer, not just for aesthetics, but to improve its performance by muffling the needle scratch and motor noise.
The record player typically plugged in to the phono jack on the back of a radio, which was placed on top of the table. The bottom shelf could be used for record storage. The magazine noted that the the table could be built with a dollar’s worth of lumber, a sheet of plywood for the table top and drawer base, and white pine for the rest of the design.
As we’ve noted before, people used to dress up to listen to the radio or play records, as shown by this photograph on the cover of the October 1941 issue of National Radio News.
The woman operating this phonograph had a good reason to get dressed up, because the radio-phono was the RCA Victrola model V-225. The radio pulled in standard broadcast and two shortwave bands, and it had an automatic record changer.
But calling it an “automatic record changer” is a serious understatement. It was actually a miracle of engineering. Not only would it play the records automatically, but it would play both sides of each record, thanks to a dual tone arm with a needle on both the top and bottom. To play the “B” side, the motor would stop and then change direction. The system is explained in detail in the magazine:
The “Magic Brain,” RCA Victor’s new automatic record playing mechanism illustrated on the front cover of this issue, is magical in its uncanny, almost human operation. The mechanism, by use of a radical new Tandem Tone Arm, plays both sides of records without turning them over.
The turntable automatically moves aside to discard a record which has been played on both sides, and returns to position and finds the center hole of the next record to be played. This feature is unique in automatic record changing devices and is made possible by the use of two motors. one to drive the turntable and the other to operate the automatic mechanism. This also makes it possible to increase the capacity of the mechanism to fifteen 10-inch records or twelve 12-inch records.
As soon as the Tandem Tone Arm bas played both sides of a record, it swings free to permit the turntable assembly to tip over to the left, gently carrying the record into the padded pocket below the mechanism. While the turntable is in this position, the next record in the stack drops silently to the heavily felted motor board. The turntable then returns to its original position, raising the record from the motorboard enroute. While the record is held in position by the record support posts, the turntable spindle seeks out the center hole of the record to be played and finds it, positioning the record for playing. The turntable is no larger than the size of the record label, in order to permit the lower section of the Tandem Tone Arm to play the under side.
The Tandem Tone Arm is actually two complete Magic Tone Cell pick-ups set, one above the other. into a tune arm shaped somewhat like at tuning fork. Its action is completely automatic from the time it leaves the rest position at the touch of the starting button, until it returns to rest after the last record has been played. Since the vibrating parts of the unit weigh less than a postage stamp, no undesirable mechanical noise or needle chatter is created.
Among the many other features which are attracting much interest as the ‘Magic Brain” is demonstrated are the Magic Tone Cell (or pickup cartridge), the Flexible Toue Bridge and the Jewel-Lite Scanner. The Tone Bridge connects the sapphire Jewel-Lite Scanner (replacing the standard needle) to the Magic Tone Cell.
The new “Magic Brain” with its Tandem Tone Arm is incorporated in the 1942 RCA Victrola model V-225 combination three -baud receiver and automatic phonograph, which is the receiver pictured on the front cover.
You can see this remarkable changer in action at the following video:
If you were looking for an upscale phonograph a hundred years ago, you couldn’t go wrong by looking at the offerings on the eighth floor of Gimbel Brothers Department Store, as shown in this ad from the October 7, 1921, issue of the New York Evening World. The store was open until 9, or if you couldn’t make it, you could mail in the coupon.
Upright models started at $49.75, and the handsome console from Emerson sold for $119.
A hundred years ago, the Gibson Co., Inc., 917-919 G St. NW, Washington, was getting ready to open its enlarged phonograph shop, as announced in the Washington Evening Star, September 19, 1921. In celebration of the occasion, the store was to have on display the original phonograph invented by Thomas Edison in 1878, presumably the one shown here, now on display at the Thomas Edison National Historical Park in New Jersey.
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This ad appeared a hundred years ago today in a number of newspapers, including the September 13, 1921, edition of the North Platte (Nebraska) Semi-Weekly Tribune. The message boils down to the fact that you should trust the science and buy a phonograph, to refresh you when you’re tired, cheer you when you’re depressed, and calm you when you are nervous. This was the result of two years’ research by Dr. W.V. Bingham, the Director of the Department of Applied Psychology, Carnegie Institute of Technology.
By returning the coupon to the dealer, you would receive a 32-page book explaining this research in detail. In this case, the dealer was Dixon Music, 516 North Dewey, North Platte. And if you checked the box, you would get a phonograph in your home on approval for three days to let you see for yourself.
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A hundred years ago this month, the August 1921 issue of Talking Machine World carried this ad for the Cirola portable phonograph, from the Cirola Distributing Company, Inc., 204 Colonial Trust Bldg., Philadelphia. The set is quite portable, and weighed in at only 16 pounds. You can see one in action at this video:
We believe that the photo above conclusively establishes the existence of time travel. It appeared a hundred years ago this month in the July 1921 issue of Talking Machine World as an ad for Gennett Records from the Starr Piano Company of Richmond, Indiana.
The girl looks familiar, but you can’t quite place where you saw her. We’re here to help you out. She is Zoë Roth, “Disaster Girl” of internet meme fame. The photo at left was taken in 2004, but she’s obviously the same girl in the picture above, taken 83 years earlier.
A hundred years ago this month, the May 1922 issue of Talking Machine World carried this ad promoting the song “Nestle In Your Daddy’s Arms” from its publisher, Leo. Feist Inc., located in the Feist Building, New York City. Presumably, everyone knew where that was, since the ad didn’t bother giving the address. But for those of us not in the know, it was at 231 W. 40th Street.
The song is performed in this video on Columbia Records by Frank Crumit. If that name sounds familiar, it’s because we previously profiled his wife, Julia Sanderson, with whom he went on to have a popular radio program. He’s also famous for his thousands of ukulele recordings.
Music for band in 23 parts is available at this link, and sheet music for piano is available at this link, where it is revealed that the song was penned by Lou Herscher and Joe Burke. Burke went on to pen “Tiptoe through the Tulips” in 1929 and Rambling Rose in 1948. It’s unclear which
came first, but the sheet music also contains French lyrics, “Repose Mon Enfant sur mon Épaule” written by Jean Nelis.
