There was a time when people dressed up to listen to the radio, and 85 years ago was one of those times, as demonstrated by this young woman on the cover of the June-July 1938 issue of National Radio News.
You would dress up, too, if the receiver you were listening to was the General Electric model F-96 Electric Touch Button Tuning Radio. The handsome nine tube set retailed for $110 (over $2300 in 2023 dollars). It featured sixteen pushbuttons, and tuned both broadcast and short wave, as well as pulling in police calls.
Many hams from the 1970s and later are familiar with variations on W1CER’s (later W1FB)Tuna Tin II, a transmitter which used a tuna can as its enclosure. But the 1950s had its own variation on the same theme, as shown here in the June 1953 issue of Radio News. A 117L7GT tube wouldn’t fit inside a tuna can, but it did fit into a coffee can, so that’s what was used.
This 80-meter transmitter was actually a club project by the Wantah Radio Club on Long Island, New York. It was designed to spur some activity as the club members built and used them. Once the rigs were built, they used them for local nets, and also used them for contests, such as for the most distant contact, and the highest number of states worked.
Half the tube was used as a Pierce oscillator, with the other half serving as rectifier. We’ve seen other transmitters using the same tube, and it’s a natural for a small one-tube QRP rig. This design put out about 3 watts, and the station on the other end was often surprised by the power used. The article warned that to save money, half of the line cord was attached to the chassis, making it potentially hot. Therefore, those making the set were cautioned to use care in plugging the cord in with the right polarity. They described a test circuit to see if it was plugged in the right way, but that circuit would trip a modern GFCI outlet.
The tuning circuit shown in the schematic below was “already mounted on a convenient subchassis from a BC-746 tuning unit available at surplus,” as if everyone knew what a BC-746 was. That appears to be an external antenna tuner, one portion of which was used here. If you can’t find a BC-746, the article gives alternatives for making your own.
The set was mounted on the coffee can lid, with the can itself then used as the enclosure. This was said to provide shielding to prevent TVI.
The author of the article was Jim Fahnestock, W2RQA. There can’t be that many Fahnestocks in the world, and since he was from New York, where the famed Fahnestock clip originated, we have to guess that he was related to the inventor of the clip and the namesake of the State Park.
Over the next few years, the TV antenna on top of houses would become a familiar sight, But 75 years ago, the concept was new, even for experienced radio technicians, who were just starting to realize that the way they would stay in business was by embracing television.
Therefore, the June-July 1948 issue of National Radio News, the publication sent to alumni of National Radio Institute, carried an extensive treatise on the subject of antennas for FM and TV. One concept that would soon become familiar, but was probably new to most readers, was “ghosts” caused by multipath interference. The cause is shown above, and the result is shown below.
Disclaimer: Don’t get fitness advice from random bloggers, talk to your doctor before starting any exercise program, and please don’t sue us if you get hurt exercising.
We previously wrote about Walter Camp’s Daily Dozen, an exercise regimen devised and promoted by Walter Camp, American football player and coach. When the U.S. Army discovered that many conscripts in World War I were badly out of shape, it turned to Camp to come up with an exercise program for sedentary city boys. He came up with the “Daily Dozen,” a series of twelve simple exercises that could be performed in about twenty minutes. Camp also recommended an hour of outdoor play, but the Daily Dozen were seen as a method of getting ready for the day. Camp had observed zoo animals who, like office workers, were unnaturally confined, and his exercises mimicked some of the stretches he had seen these animals instinctively perform.
I recently suffered a broken arm, and as a result, was sent to physical therapy to get the function back. They gave me exercises to do, and as an old out-of-shape sedentary person, I did get in the habit of exercising. When my physical therapy ended, I decided that I ought to take some small step to remain active. And since I had written about an exercise program, I figured that one was as good as any.
As we previously wrote, Camp produced a set of records with his exercises. While a band plays, Camp barks out his instructions, and you exercise along with the record player. Undoubtedly, Camp was standing next to the band as it played, shouting his commands into the cone of the recording equipment. So a few months ago, I decided to start doing the Daily Dozen. Human physiology hasn’t changed much in the last hundred years, and if Camp could make people more fit in 1922, there’s no reason why he can’t do the same thing today.
Even though the exercises are very simple, the 20 minute routine does seem to have a positive effect on my health. For one thing, it has gotten easier after a few months. At first, it wasn’t exactly hard, but it did seem like drudgery. But as time goes by, the routine goes quickly, and quite easy. I do feel more energetic after doing it. And more importantly, I’ve noticed that if I miss doing it for one day, I don’t really feel as well the next day. So it doesn’t do any harm, and it’s probably a benefit. I also try to take Camp’s advice and do some outdoor recreation every day.
If you want to give it a try, Camp’s 1922 record set is available on YouTube:
If you want to see the exercises being done, you can see them in this video. You can find a modern-day discussion and critique in this book at Amazon. You can also find Camp’s own book at this link at Google Books. You’ll notice that the exercises in the videos and books are somewhat different, as the plan changed a bit over the years. I’ve been following the plan from the 1922 record set.
If you’re looking for a modest exercise program to start getting yourself back into some semblance of physical fitness, then you can’t really go wrong with the Daily Dozen.
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This interesting ad appeared in Boys’ Life magazine eighty years ago this month, June 1943. It encouraged boys and girls to do their part toward the war effort by making themselves and their bicycles available to local retailers for deliveries, since they were “finding difficulty in getting grown men for delivery work.”
For kids who already had a bike, they could start offering their services. But if they didn’t have one, they could “go to their nearest Roadmaster Bicycle (Cleveland Welding Company) dealer and ask him to help you fill out an application to get a bicycle.”
The application was necessary because bicycles, like many wartime commodities were being rationed, and were available only to those in critical occupations. Specifically, they were not being made as children’s toys. But if the kids were willing to be the last mile of the wartime supply chain, then presumably they qualified.
The wartime models were bare bones, without many features. So the ad encouraged kids to invest their earnings in war bonds, and buy a post-war model as soon as they became available.
Eighty years ago this month, the June 1943 issue of Radio News showed the transmitter that was to become known as the “Gibson Girl.” The two downed airmen had nothing but hope, and their potential rescuer was beyond the horizon, with no way of knowing they were there.
But that was soon to change, and the men would have with them a hand-cranked transmitter capable of summoning help over long distances, thanks to an automated message sent on 500 kHz. Rescuers would be able to hear it for hundreds of miles, and zero in on their location through radio direction finding.
The antenna was to be made out of Belden wire, and they were justifiably proud of it.
The June 1963 issue of QST carried the plans for this five-transistor transceiver for 6 meters. The author, David Light, K4IQU, reported a QSO of 15 miles between two of the units, in hilly terrain, presumably on two peaks within sight of each other. He also reported being heard 30 miles away (but not a two-way QSO) with a well equipped station with a beam at the other end.
As shown by the emblem on the set, the goal of the unit was for use in local emergencies. But chances are, most of the use involved the secondary purpose, “having plenty of fun on 50 Mc.”
The superregenerative detector, the oscillator, and the RF amp were 2N1745 transistors. Two stages of audio amplification were used for both transmitter and receiver, and used 2N43A transistors. Power was supplied by a 9-volt battery.
For modern hams, the humble Baofeng handheld can be had for about $30, and almost certainly outperforms (on 2 meters and 70 cm) the humble little rig here. So yes, if all you have is a Baofeng, there’s no reason why you can’t work another Baofeng 15 miles away, or a well equipped station 30 miles away. There are much better radios, but if that’s what you got, there’s no reason why you can’t use it for having plenty of fun on 144 Mc.
Shown here 70 years ago is Mrs. Connie Hodgson of Syracuse, NY, one of six “intelligent adults” who pitted their multiplication skills against General Electric’s OARAC computer, shown behind her.
The computer was on its way to the U.S. Air Force, but before it left, it showed off its skills by competing against the human contestants in calculating 8,645,392,175 x 8,645,392,175, to get the right answer of 74,742,805,859,551,230,625.
Of course, someone armed with a slide rule would have been able to come up with the right answer of 7.474 x 10^19 almost as fast as OARAC
None of the human contestants got the right answer. Mrs. Hodgson came the closest, but she is pointing to the spot where she forgot to carry a 1, making her final answer be off by a trillion. And, as they say, a trillion here and a trillion there, and pretty soon you’re talking real money.
And OARAC was much faster, crunching the numbers in about 1/1000 second. The humans took between 4-1/2 and 8 minutes to get the wrong answer.
Bill Gates will be glad to know that the Windows calculator got the same answer as OARAC, and it seemed a little faster than 1/1000 second, although I wasn’t able to time it.
Eighty years ago, this west coast air raid warden was subject to call at any moment, but he might need to be somewhere in his house other than next to the telephone. His solution was to use something called an “electric sentry” to alert him.
As near as I can tell, an “electric sentry” was a one-way intercom, which used the house wiring to transmit the signal. The transmitter was plugged in near the telephone ringer. He could then carry the receiver to another room in the house, or even a neighbor’s house, with the assurance that he would hear the ringing phone.
Here, he appears to have the sentry receiver nearby while he repairs a radio. His daughter assists him by trying on his warden’s helmet. The transmitter is shown at right.
The plans for this one-tube loop set appeared 85 years ago this month in the May, 1938, issue of Radio Craft. While the tuning range is not specified, it appears to be for the broadcast band, and the set was said to give the beginner many hours of enjoyment both putting it together and using it.
According to the magazine, the set was able to pull in signals inside a steel framed building, with enough volume to rattle the headphones.
While it was not primarily intended for use as an interference finder, the directional characteristics of the loop antenna made it well suited for that purpose.
The same issue of the magazine also showed how to make the one-tube all wave receiver shown at the right. It also included instructions for adding an additional AF stage.
There was a time when people dressed up to listen to the radio, and 85 years ago was one of those times, as demonstrated by this young woman on the cover of the June-July 1938 issue of National Radio News.
