Category Archives: Television History

Transatlantic TV DX: 1958

1958SepRadioElecYesterday, we showed a regenerative preamplifier from 1968, designed by Hartland B. Smith, W8VVD, currently licensed as W8QX.  We promised that we would bring you another article by this prolific writer which appeared ten years earlier, in the September 1958 issue of Radio Electronics.

Smith begins the 1958 article by pointing out that he had been a licensed ham for 18 years and had his share of exciting DX contacts, but that he could “honestly say that none of these gave me quite as much a thrill as when I first saw an indentifiable transmission directly from London on the screen of my own TV set.”

And as shown by these pictures, that’s exactly what he did. The winter of 1957-58 was at the peak of the greatest solar maximum in recorded history, meaning that the maximum usable frequency (MUF) was frequently going above 40 MHz. This opened the possibility of pulling in Transatlantic TV signals, which is exactly what Smith set out to do.

Receiving the audio of British and French television signals was a relatively simple matter. The London and Belfast stations were on 41.50 MHz, and Caen, France, was on 41.25 MHz. Armed with nothing more than a prewar FM receiver, he was easily able to hear the audio. (Indeed, it wasn’t uncommon for American hams to listen to British TV audio on their six meter receivers.)

But being able to watch the video posed a much greater challenge. European TV used both different frequencies and different standards from American TV, so an American TV could not be used without some modification. So Smith set out to make the modifications. He focused on trying to pull in the powerful London station, which transmitted on 45 MHz with 200 kilowatts. The French station’s video was on 52.4 MHz, which was likely to be above the MUF even if the audio were booming in.

The first relatively modest challenge was the frequency, which was lower than that tuned by American sets. This was accomplished with a simple converter consisting of a single 12AT7 tube. With an oscillator frequency of either 33 or 123 MHz, this would bring the British signal to American channel 5, which was unused in his area. The antenna consisted of a two-element beam in the attic for video, with a folded dipole for the audio receiver.

Lisajous pattern on scope showing equal frequencies. Wikipedia image.

Tuning in the signal was one thing, but getting a visible picture required that the set be modified internally. The first issue was the horizontal sweep frequency, which was 15,750 Hz in the American set, but 10,125 Hz on the British signal. He did this by using an audio oscillator to produce the required 10,125 Hz signal, and feeding this and the horizontal oscillator into a scope. He then adjusted the horizontal and added components until the frequencies matched, as shown by a circular lisajous pattern on the scope.

The British vertical frequency of 50 Hz was deemed close enough to the American 60 Hz to not require any modification.

The final problem was that the video carrier in Britain was opposite of that used in the U.S. To correct this, he modified the video detector by reversing the cathode and plate.

With the modifications made, it was just a matter of listening on 41 MHz and waiting for the audio of the European signals to appear. This meant that the band was open, and it was time to turn on the video receiver.

This was a fairly elaborate process. The first step was to turn on the converter, and adjust the converter frequency until the “familiar out-of-sync zig-zag lines denoting a video carrier” appeared on the screen. (Anyone who watched TV in the 1970’s or earlier knows exactly what he means. If you’re too young to remember, click here for an example.)  At that point, the vertical hold would stop the picture from moving vertically, and then the horizontal hold control was adjusted (which might require some internal adjustment to make sure the control was in range). As he put it, “TV dx tuning is an art that is a little hard to describe on paper. It is best learned by experiment.”

He pointed out that picture quality would never be perfect. For one thing, there would almost always be multipath interference, since signals through the ionosphere might travel numerous paths. He noted that the ghosting problem might sometimes be acute. During one televised tennis match, he reported seeing at least 30 players batting 15 balls back and forth. But occasionally, the ionosphere would settle down momentarily, resulting in the identifiable images shown here.



1948 TV Census

1948AugTeleviserHere’s a snapshot of the state of television 70 years ago this month, Agusut 1948, from that month’s edition of Televiser magazine.  New York was still the nation’s hotspot when it came to the new medium, with just over half of the nation’s sets in the New York metropolitan area.

Minneapolis-St. Paul now boasted 5600 sets, 3900 in private homes, with the remaining 1700 in public places.

According to the magazine, over 64,000 sets were rolling off the assembly lines each month.  By comparing with the previous year’s numbers, it was clear that TV was growing fast.  In September 1947, the same survey had shown just over 93,000 sets, with well over half in the New York area.  Minneapolis and Milwaukee hadn’t appeared in the 1947 survey, but were now growing TV markets.



1938 TV Images

1938June20LifeEighty years ago today, the June 20, 1938 issue of Life magazine carried these images of a broadcast by WNBT New York.

The June 7 broadcast of s scene from the play Susan and God starring Gertrude Lawrence originated at Radio City, and these images were captured by the editors of Electronics magazine.  Life noted that the blurriness of the images was due to the fact that a still camera couldn’t capture a clear image of the moving picture, and the photography was further hampered by the small size of the TV screen.

1938June20Life2



Hugo Gernsback’s Vision of the Telephot, 1918

1918MayElecExpCoverShown here on the cover of Electrical Experimenter a hundred years ago this month, May 1918, is Hugo Gernsback‘s vision of Skype, or what he called “telephot, an apparatus attachable to our present telephone system so that when we speak to our distant friend, we may see his likeness not only as an immovable picture, but we will see his image exactly as we see our own image when looking into a mirror. In other words, the apparatus must faithfully follow every movement of our distant friend whether he is only five blocks away or one thousand miles. That such an invention is urgently required is needless to say. Everybody would wish to have such an instrument, and it is safe to say that such a device would revolutionize our present mode of living, just as much as the telephone revolutionized our former standard of living.”

Gernsback reported that inventors were working on the problem, but the main catch was what we would today call the bandwidth, since it had to be “possible to attach it to the present-day telephone lines,” which to him was a single wire and a ground return wire. “In most of the schemes offered by inventors heretofore, a plurality of wires was necessary; in some cases several thousand pairs of wires. No matter how well such an instrument might work, this alone would doom it to certain failure.”



1947 TV Census

1947SepOctTeleviserSeventy years ago, television was just getting off the ground, and the September-October 1947 issue of Televiser magazine gives this interesting snapshot of the number of televisions in existence at that time.

The magazine estimated that there were 93,151 sets in existence in the country.  At this point, most of the numbers were fairly exact, since the limited number of manufacturers allowed them to report the exact number manufactured.

One wildcard was the limited number of prewar sets still in use, but this was also relatively easy to estimate.

One wildcard was the number of homemade and kit sets in use.   Stations were hearing more and more reports of “stations becoming increasingly aware of unspecified numbers of home-built receivers” tuning in their signals. The magazine provided a “conservative” estimate of 10,000.

New York was still the hotbed of television, with 51,500 sets, over 40,000 of them in private homes.  An additional 4000 were installed in bars, with more than 7000 on the dealer’s shelf.

Philadelphia weighed in next with 11,000 sets in use.  Washington had 3000, and the TV phenomenon was just starting to move to Baltimore, with 10 sets in homes, with an additional 90 in the hands of dealers.

 



1957 Wireless TV Sound

1957OctPS1

Sixty years ago, domestic tranquility was restored in this household, as shown in this picture from the October 1957 issue of Popular Science.  Dad and Junior can watch the fight, while Mom and Little Sister work on the piano lessons.

This major breakthrough was accomplished after extensive testing by the editors of the magazine. Every TV owner had been waiting for the good news: “a simple way for each member of the family to turn the sound off or on, to suit himself, without annoying anyone else.”

The magic that made this possible was the inductive loop. Because the headset was wireless, “there’s no dangling cord to tether you to the console.” The headsets could be made in a couple of hours, and the magazine proposed three varieties.

1957OctPSLoopThe modification of the set and the installation of the loop was an almost trivial matter.  The magazine warned to unplug the set and let it sit for 15 minutes “for the tubes to cool off” (and hopefully for the electrolytics in the power supply to lose some of their charge).  Then, the lead to the speaker was snipped and hooked to the inductive loop, as shown here.  The magazine recommended adding the closed-circuit jack shown in the circuit here, so that the loop could be unplugged on those occasions when the speaker was desired.

The loop could be run under the carpet, as shown here, tucked away near the ceiling, or even placed in the joists in the basement below.  While reception was best when the headsets were at the same level as the loop, the magazine’s tests showed that any of these arrangements would work well.

1957OctPS2This loop formed the primary winding of a room-sized audio transformer.  The secondary windings would be in the individual headsets.  For the kids, the magazine recommended the spaceman style shown here, with the assurance that the kids would love them.

As revealed by the diagram below, these headsets were simplicity itself.  The coil was worn around the head, and hooked directly to the headphones.  The magazine suggested that Mom should be put in charge of suitably decorating the loop with colored tape.  No other electronics were necessary for these headphones for the kids.  The output of the coil was sufficient to drive the headphones.

1957OctPSHeadset

Mom and Dad warranted somewhat more discrete looking receivers, and these could be either of the models shown below.  Mom had a version similar to the kids’ version, but the loop was not worn.  It was apparently thought that she could set it in a convenient spot, and it was hooked directly to a small earphone.  The magazine noted that the earphone was so small that it could hardly be seen.  The only problem that might result would be forgetting to take it off before going to bed!

1957OctPSReceivers

Dad is seen using a slightly more complicated version, but still easily within the capabilities of anyone able to wire up a lamp cord.  It used a much smaller coil, amplified with the venerable CK722 transistor.  It was the size of the proverbial pack of cigarettes, and the two penlight batteries would keep it running for a thousand hours.

Those wishing to duplicate this idea today can save a great deal of coil winding time by using a telephone pickup coil instead of winding the coils for the individual receivers.  If a set of high-impedance headphones is available, it could be fed without any electronics.  The CK722 is more or less unobtainium, except at very high prices.  But any small audio amplifier could be put into service.  If you want to make your own, hundreds of circuits are available using the readily available 2N2222 transistor.

 

 



1947 Crosley Spectator

1947Crosley

Seventy years ago, television was finally becoming a reality. The war was over, stations were coming on the air, and the enlightened radio dealer was getting ready to move into television. Crosley, the pioneer in radio manufacturing and broadcasting, had also made the move to television.  The Crosley Spectator is shown here, from the August 1947 issue of Radio & Appliance Journal.

The set boasted an image size of 6-3/8″ by 8-1/2″, had 27 tubes and three rectifiers, and tuned all 13 channels, 44-216 MHz, including the elusive channel 1, which was never put to use.

Those 27 tubes consumed 380 watts, and the set weighed in at 85 pounds.

The ad assured the dealer that the Spectator in the shop window as its own salesman, and each set sold would become the talk of the neighborhood and draw in even more business.

You can see a nicely restored example of this set in operation at this video:



The Dark Side of Sunspot Cycle 19

1967AugRadioElecSixty years ago, solar activity was at an all-time high, and the sun was plastered with sunspots. This was good news for hams, who depend on this solar activity for ideal radio communications on the high frequency bands. But in addition to being literal dark spots, this was, figuratively a dark time for the hapless TV repairman in fringe areas, because it fell upon him to explain to his customers that their interference woes weren’t his fault, but were instead caused by blotches on the sun.

Fortunately, the TV repairman got some sympathetic advice from this article in the August 1957 issue of Radio Electronics.

It starts by noting that Sunspot Cycle 19 was about to reach a peak, which was good news for hams and shortwave listeners, for whom shortwave propagation would be better than at any other time in history.

But the average TV owner “probably does not care about receiving Havana, Cuba, or some other distant TV station over his favorite local channel,” which was a distinct possibility in fringe areas. The article noted that this would be particularly an issue for channels 2, 3, and 4.

The article counseled the serviceman on how to deal with these calls. And unfortunately, there was little that could be done, other than to “explain to the owner what is happeninng and that the condition will probably pass in a short while. Ask him to call the next day if the trouble is still there.”

The article suggested that a good way to educate the customer would be to draw a sketch of the earth and ionosphere as shown above. While reorienting the antenna might help in some cases, the best advice was to hope that the owner understood what was happening. If the customer understood, it would make him “less likely to call a service technician and thereby leave the technician more time to devote to true television troubles.”

 



1957 Underwater TV Camera

1957JuneRadioElecCover

Shown here on the cover of the June 1957 issue of Radio Electronics is a demonstration of an underwater TV camera, namely a special version of the Hancock Vicon IV made by HEC Corp., Redwood City, California. The camera was housed in a stainless steel cylinder with a small window on one end.

The camera itself was billed as extremely sensitive and not requiring additional lighting in most situations. The entrie camera weighed 95 pounds on land, but dropped to 12 pounds in the water. It came with a 500 foot cable, and could either be maneuvered by a diver or lowered by crane.

One valuable application was said to be in offshore oil drilling, or for inspections of canals, dams, irrigation canals, and ship hulls.

The original customer was the Department of the Interior, Fish and Wild Life Service, for underwater exploration of marine life. The Navy’s bureau of ships had also placed an order for hull inspection and salvage operations.

The camera, compatible with U.S. broadcast standards, came with a 500 foot cable leading to the associated controls and monitoring equipment.



1927 “Phonoscope”

1927JuneRadioNews

This cover illustration from the June 1927 issue of Radio News is more or less self-explanatory. But unfortunately, there’s little in the way of explanation given in the magazine, and I’m not aware of this form of video recording ever having been done in practice.

The early mechanical television signals were indeed, sent over the audio channel of AM broadcast stations, so it’s not far fetched to think that the audio could be recorded on a phonograph disk. I think the main problem would be the frequency response of the disk recording. As far as I know, the upper frequency limit for 78 RPM records, especially during that era, was around 5 kHz. I doubt if much video could be packed into 5 kHz bandwidth.

The magazine mentions, with no technical detail, only that John L. Baird was then working on the system, which he called “Phonoscope.”