Category Archives: Radio history

1957 VHF Receiver

It was a simpler time sixty years ago, and this electronics hobbyist and aviation enthusiast was able to walk out onto the tarmac with her suspicious electronic device, as shown on the cover of Popular Electronics, July 1957.

She is listening to aircraft traffic with a simple VHF receiver, and the plans are shown in the magazine. The set was a crystal set using a 1N82 diode, with one CK722 transistor for audio amplification and tuned 90-145 MHz. In addition to being useful for listening to aircraft, the magazine said that it could be used to zero in with bloodhound accuracy in a hidden transmitter hunt.

In testing the set at a local airport, the tower could be heard several hundred feet away and approaching planes could also be heard.

Wanted by Uncle Sam: 2000 Amateur Wireless Operators

A hundred years ago, Uncle Sam was looking for amateur wireless operators, and the ARRL was doing everything within its power to make sure the need was met. The July 1917 issue of QST came complete with the application blank necessary for young hams to sign up:

It was explained that applicants were to take the filled in enrollment form to their nearest Navy Recruiting Office. (If they didn’t know where it was, ARRL HQ could provide the address.) At the recruiting station, the officer there was to certify the applicant’s physical condition. Then, the applicant would return the form to ARRL HQ, which would send it to the proper headquarters. “They will notify you when and where to report.”

The accompanying article explained that 2000 wireless operators were needed by the Naval Reserve. “At the outset all will probably agree that this is a call of humanity and before it is over every one of us will have to play his part. To play your part and do your bit,–does not mean you must shoulder a gun. Your part if you are a radio operator is to serve in that capacity. Your duty is to enroll today. Uncle Sam must have wireless operators. You must not fail him in this hour of need.”

The article explained that enlistment was for the duration of the war, and that reservists would be able to ask for discharge during times of peace. It stressed that enlistment would give one of the finest educational courses in the country, comparable to a college education.

Two schools were in operation by the Navy. Harvard University had turned over to the Navy Pierce Hall, in which at present 150 radio electricians were being trained. A smaller school was in operation at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. And as enlisted man, the recruit would have the opportunity to enter the Naval Academy by examination. Pay ranged between $32.60 and $72.00 per month, plus uniform and subsistence.

An accompanying editorial, probably written by Hiram Percy Maxim, admonished “hurry up and enroll.” The Old Man notes that the “engineering course given is unquestionably one of the finest things offered in this country in the way of a practical training in electrical engineering.”

After mentioning the pay, the Old Man opines that “any amateur radio operator who does not take advantage of it ought to have his head examined.”

The editorial concludes by admonishing young men to think it over, “and make Mother and Father read this editorial.”

Archie Banks, 9AGD, Radio Amateur & Beekeeper

A hundred years ago, American amateur radio operators were off the air for the duration of the war. All stations, both receiving and transmitting, had to be dismantled, and antennas lowered to the ground. But the July 1917 issue of Electrical Experimenter detailed the activities of 24 year old Archie Banks of rural Delmar, Iowa. Banks lived on a farm about a mile out of town, and when he was sixteen, he developed an interest in electricity. He had the house wired with electric lights powered by batteries, and within two years, he was dabbling in wireless. He reported that his first set didn’t work well, and he could only communicate the one mile to Delmar.

But his second station was considerably more successful. He was licensed as 9AGD, and among other things was able to reliably copy the twice daily news and weather reports sent by the stations at the Illinois State Agricultural College in Springfield, and the Iowa State Agricultural College at Ames.

Rather than keep these important bulletins to himself, Banks took it upon himself to share the information with neighbors. Initially, he shared the information with anyone who desired to phone him, and the service was popular. Area farmers had access to immediate weather reports, rather than having to wait for the daily nespaper to be delivered by the R.F.D. carrier.

But Banks decided to carry it a step further, as shown by the sign here. In addition to his labor on the family farm, Banks had a side business consisting of about a hundred hives which he used to raise honey. The honey was advertised by a roadside sign. He added this sign, encouraging passers by to stop and read the news and weather reports. Initially, the sign was placed as a public service. But Banks soon noticed that those stopping to read the weather would be in a good position to buy some honey.

Banks had his beekeeping-wireless enterprise in operation as early as 1913. In that year, he had a paper read at the state bee convention, published in the Report of the State Bee Inspector, an essay entitled, “The Art of Selling Honey From a Producer’s and Retailer’s Point of View.” This paper reveals that the wireless was but one advertising mechanism he employed. He recommended advertising which included a few recipes. “This will make the housewife anxious to try them out just the same as one is to try a new car.” He recommended giving out samples, since they “create an appetite for more and the neighbor or friend will probably purchase a case or more the next time he sees you.”

His main sign (not shown in the Electrical Experimenter article” was eight feet by two feet and “hung across the road,” which was a main highway. It read, in large red letters, “Eat Honey,” with the phrase “for sale here by the section or wagon load” in large black letters. He states that he also had “a large signboard on which is printed the weather report which I receive daily by wireless. Passerby stopping to read this report get a view of the honey sign also–thus killing two birds with one stone.”

Banks is also described in an article in this 1917 issue of The Country Gentleman.

According to this link, Banks was born in 1892, the son of B.D. Banks and Hannah E. Banks. According to this 2016 obituary of his son Harlan Banks, he later married Edna Bowman and had multiple children. At some point, he moved to California, since the son’s obituary shows him graduating from high school in Santa Barbara.

According to this site, in 1925, Banks was one of five hams in Santa Barbara when an earthquake struck the town on June 29, 1925. The city was completely cut off from the outside world, prompting the hams to patch together a CW station to send out an SOS. Help was summoned when an operator aboard a Standard Oil Tanker heard the SoS and summoned help. This photo, appearing in a Russian language book, shows Banks operating from Santa Barbara after the earthquake.

According to the Social Security Death Index, Banks died in October 1984 in Santa Barbara. According to his gravestone, he served in the U.S. Navy both World War I and World War II.

Banks is listed as 9AGD in the 1916 callbook with an address of R.F.D. 2, Delmar, Iowa. He doesn’t appear to have a listing, either in California or Iowa, in the 1922 call book.

Interestingly, I think I found the location of Banks’ 1917 honey sign, which would be this Google street view. According to the Electrical Experimenter article, Banks’ station was about one mile from Delmar and eight miles from Maquoketa. This farm house is about that distance from the two towns, and seems to match the house shown in the article, assuming the magazine photo below was taken from the rear of the house. The location is on Iowa Highway 136, just west of US Highway 61.

1942 One Tube “Beginner’s Special” Receiver

Seventy-five years ago this month, the July 1942 issue of Popular Mechanics carried the plans for this simple one-tube regenerative receiver. The set was designed with wartime parts shortages in mind, and most parts were non-critical, and could be found in most junk boxes.

Future issues of the magazine would carry improvements, and most parts would be reused. In addition, the suggested breadboard layout was such that there would be room for more advanced designs to be built on the same board.

The set used a single 1Q5GT tube. It used one flashlight battery to run the filament, with four in series to provide the 6 volts B+. A battery eliminator was promised for the next issue.

Coils were wound on the cardboard tubes salvaged from D cell flashlight batteries. The article called for an external antenna and ground. Tuning was accomplished by setting regeneration to maximum, and then tuning until a squeal was heard. At that point, you would turn down the regeneration control just enough to listen to the station.

1937 Weather Balloon

Shown here from 80 years ago this month is a weather balloon from the cover of the July 1937 issue of Shortwave and Television magazine.

The accompanying article explains the operation. The transmitter consisted of two type 30 tubes operating push-pull, as shown in this schematic. The system was developed under the direction of National Bureau of Standards physicist Dr. L.F. Curtiss, who chose the type 30 tube due to their low cost, since there was no guarantee that the set would be recovered, and also due to their low filament drain.

The 45 volt B battery was specially designed and built by Eveready, and represented the lightest weight B battery ever built.

When the hydrogen balloon was launched, it began transmitting pressure, temperature, and humidity. Keying was done by an electric motor. While the article didn’t provide details, it appears that the length of each signal encoded the data. On the ground, a superregenerative receiver hooked to a strip recorder was used, allowing the duration of each pulse to be measured accurately. A vertical dipole was used for reception of the signals, which were on exactly 55 MHz.

Not surprisingly, the airborne signals could be received over a long distance, despite the low power. The article noted that signals had been received over a hundred miles, and from altitudes as high as 127,000 feet (24 miles). When the balloon reached maximum altitude, it burst, with the transmitter descending on a small parachute. The article noted that the parachute was mostly to prevent damage to persons or objects on the ground, recovery of the transmitter apparently being a secondary concern. Dr. Curtiss noted that it was his hope that the transmitters would soon be made so cheaply that it would no longer be worthwhile to attempt recovery.

1957 Boys’ Life Hallicrafters Ad

Sixty years ago this month, the June 1957 issue of Boys’ Life carried this Hallicrafters ad, highlighting the excitement available on the shortwave bands.

The comic book style ad featured a young hero with the unlikely name of Billy Hallicrafters. Billy and his friend Tim have been out boating and were securing their boat after a quick storm blew up. Billy agrees that the storm is a bad one, and invites Timmy to come tune the marine frequencies on his Hallicrafters S-85.

An amazed Tim asks whether it’s really possible to listen to the fleet talking, and Billy assures him that it is. In addition to the exciting traffic from ships, he tells Tim that he can tune in police, fire, amateurs, planes, and foreign stations.

They get to Billy’s receiver, where on an international emergency frequency they hear a desperate distress call from a ship run aground on a reef and sinking. The ship tries in vain to raise the Coast Guard, but to no avail.

Our hero Billy quickly gets on the phone to the Coast Guard and gives the ship’s position. The Coast Guard tells him that they didn’t pick up the SOS, but had a cutter and plane in the area. Twenty minutes later, the Coast Guard has rescued the ship, which included an injured man.

In the next scene, Billy and Tim are down at the dock talking to the grateful Coast Guard officer, who tells them that this proves that shortwave listening is both exciting and fun.

An ambulance is seen waiting to take the injured man to the hospital, and it turns out that Billy had taken it upon himself to have the ambulance standing by.

Tim adds that he’s going to get his own Hallicrafters shortwave set.

Billy’s S-85 is revealed to have a list price of $119.95. For the more budget conscious Scout thinking of listening for distress calls, the ad also showed the venerable S-38D with a list price of $49.95.

GE Model 260, 1947

Seventy years ago today, The June 22, 1947, issue of Life magazine carried this ad for the General Electric model 260 portable. Shown in the ad is Monica Lewis, billed as a “popular star of radio and Signature Records.”

The set is touted as being self-charging, meaning that the 2 volt lead acid battery was constantly floating. When the set was run from 120 volts, the battery served as an effective filter capacitor. It had pushbutton tuning for the broadcast band, and also covered five shortwave bands, allowing it to “bring in U.S. and foreign stations galore.” It had “rugged military construction, and die-cast aluminum case that’s light as can be.”

The set’s tube lineup consisted of three 1LN5’S, 1LC6, and 1LH4. The internal battery powered a vibrator power supply, and when plugged in, the battery was charged while in the circuit, with a 3Q5GT serving as rectifier.

I actually owned one of these for a time. By the time I owned it, the battery was long gone and unobtainium. Without the battery in the circuit, the set did have a very pronounced 60 cycle hum. It pulled in a few strong local stations, but shortwave was no longer an option.

Monica Lewis, who was 25 when this ad came out, went on to become the singing voice of “Miss Chiquita Banana,” a cartoon television commercial character. She made her way to the big screen, where she appeared in movies such as Airport ’77 and Earthquake. She died in 2015 at the age of 93.

Update 01/25:

I received the following e-mail and photos from DK2LA, which should be helpful for anyone trying to recreate the built-in antenna. You can click on the images for larger versions.

I have this above ( and a 250) set as well and also without the external loop antenna which plugs into the side. By looking at photos and guessing the number of turns, I made up a loop as shown in the photograph. It actually works, but not on all bands. So my question to you is: Have you managed to get detailed information on this particular GE260 loop at all?

If yes, I will be very grateful to receive any further data or photos which you may have obtained in the meantime. Otherwise you might want to use my loop construction as a trial.

I used fairly thick silvered copper wire. The loop measures 285mm across the outside horizontal and 140mm across the outside vertical. 3 turns and the centre tap is about 1 turn off the bottom pin. Don’t know how “right” it is, but maybe enlarging the sides to fit more tightly into the cabinet insides (as the original loop fits fairly close to the inside cabinet edges) would make it work better.

You can see a video of the model 260 (along with a similar model that covered only the broadcast band) here:

And you can see and hear Miss Chiquita Banana here:

1947 One Tube Mailable Radio

We previously featured a 1940 crystal set that could be mailed as a post card. And today, we up the ante to this mailable one-tube radio from the June 1947 issue of Popular Science. This one won’t go as a post card, but at just a quarter of an inch thick, it is small enough to mail in a 6 by 9 inch manila envelope.

The set used a subminiature 2E32 pentode tube. In addition to the radio, you would need a 22-1/2 volt B battery, as well as a penlight cell to light the filament.

The flat coil is wound on a 4 inch cardboard disk. The 92 turns are tapped at various points. By connecting to different taps, and by adjusting the trimmer capacitor, the set would tune most of the broadcast band. Even though the set did not use regeneration, it was said to be able to pull in strong local stations with high impedance headphones (also not included inside the envelope).

1937 Admiral 955-8K Chairside

Shown here from 80 years ago this month is the Admiral model 955-8K chairside radio, as it appeared in the June 1937 issue of Radio Retailing.

The three band set featured automatic tuning, and in addition to the standard broadcast band, covered police and international shortwave bands. The walnut cabinet stood 24 inches high and featured an 8 inch electrodynamic speaker.

The semicircular front featured a built-in ashtray. The eight tube lineup consisted of 6A7, 6D6, 75, 80, and two each of 76 and 42.

The accompanying ad billed this and the rest of Admiral’s lineup as “America’s smartest radios for 1938.”

1942 Rochester, MN, Flood

This photo of a flooded KROC, Rochester, MN, appeared in Broadcasting magazine 75 years ago today, June 15, 1942.

The picture was apparently taken on June 4, 1942, during a localized flash flood along the Cascade creek which caused one death. Between June 3-5, the Rochester airport had recorded 3.26″ of rain, with 2.33″ of that falling within a single day. The creek basin had apparently received even higher rainfall.

The magazine noted that the station staff had to ignore the biggest news story of the year as it literally flooded right into the station’s doors. Due to wartime restrictions on weather reports, the announcer on duty had to ignore the waters rising around him, despite his strong desire to tell listeners about it as the water slowly climbed to waist depth.

“Just as the tubes began to sizzle,” they cut power and waited calmly for three hours until being rescued. While they waited, they were said to amuse themselves by warding off the rabbits, field mice, gophers, frogs, and pheasants that had sought sanctuary on the tiny island.

Damage was estimated at $1500, and the station was back on the air in less than 12 hours.

OneTubeRadio.com

Radio – Emergency Preparedness – Scouting – Law – Politics