A Little Elbow Grease Makes All The Difference

The Remington Standard No. 12 is not an especially collectable typewriter. You can find them all over the place and this one (BZ73012) is from 1926. As you can see it was also pretty dirty. 

The styling is not exactly modern. The decals have a very non-1920s look to them, but Remington stuck with this design for many years. In fact, it was in production for nearly a decade. Keeping the styling of a product for 10 years is a little odd, especially for our modern consumer society. I digress. Interestingly, some 12s still featured the right-hand return, but this version featured a left-handed return.

There was dirt caked everywhere. 

The platen is rubbish. I need to either get it recovered or try Richard's shrink-tubing trick.

Is that a bug? It wouldn't be the first I ever found in a typewriter. After looking at the layers of dirt I was willing to spray it down on the side of the house. The weather was warm and the sun was out, so I had little fears of the thing rusting too badly. It was also easy to see that it had been kept in a damp environment at some point. There was surface rust in some places, but nothing too bad.

Spraying out a typewrter with the hose takes some guts. I've done it before with good success, however, I always have done it on a sunny and warm day. If it's too cloudy things might not dry as you intended. 

Normally, I cover up the keytops, but I wasn't able to tell if these key tops were cloisonné or maybe enamel. They don't have little circles of celluloid covering the letters and I felt confident that there would be no damage from the water. I tested out on one before I committed to the endeavor and it seemed to be pretty water-resistant. 

You can see the pre-existing rust. It is also clear to see that everything is much cleaner. I also had a much better time getting the segments to move properly.

I had taken all the body panels off earlier and started the process of polishing them with Meguiar's cleaner and polish. They were very grimy and it took a while, but the black gloss paint started to shine through.

I think that the final result is stunning.

There is a very old scratch near the screw at the bottom of the type bar scoop. It's old enough to have rusted. Some amateur was probably trying to fix something and mid reinstall the screwdriver slipped and scratched the body panel.

There is one small scuff on the back right that I could not get out. It's small and barely noticable. Strangely, there is a very fancy number two written on the bump-out under the 'e' in Remington. Something like that might have been for inventory control, but it is some sort of enamel paint; shiny and hard. 

Even though it was dirty this 12 was a solid machine to start with. Dirty standards tend to clean up nicely, but if the paint is oxidized you are out of luck. Polishing will make it look better, but it will never look as nice as a good paint job that has been preserved nicely. I can never tell empirically if the paint is good ahead of time. I usually get a gut feeling. 90% of the time my gut is right-on, but there have been times when I was spectacularly wrong.

And remember that a little elbow grease makes all the difference. 

I will leave this brag post with a closeup of my favorite detail of the 12; the margin release.

No Magic Margin for You!

The drab grey exterior is not exactly charming. It's pretty institutional, but from Remington's advertising department it was nothing short of revolutionary.

This particular model is the Super-Riter. Being the grown-up version of the entire Remington line it had all the gadgets you would expect from a typewriter of this caliber; full tabulator, touch select, snappy response, and even a type bar un-jammer. There is one thing missing. The margin set is not automatic. You must reach behind the paper table and use the margin set tabs. Not a terrible inconvenience, but certainly not one you would expect to see in a full-featured desktop typewriter. I looked around at American machines from the 50s and found that the automatic set margin was pretty common.

Obviously, there's Royal:

and Smith-Corona:

Underwood was a little different with their font-set marginal stops, so they don't count.

This begs the question; Why do Royal and Smith-Corona typewriters have fancy margin sets while the Remington is left out in the cold. Well, the answer has a little to do with a lawsuit.

It was October 3, 1947 when Royal filed suit in the District Court of Connecticut. Royal claimed that Remington Rand violated Royal's patent with the creation of the KMC or Keyboard Margin Control. This feature was prevalent on Remington desktop typewriters before the 1950s. Like Royal's Magic Margin it was a novel way to set margins on a typewriter. Unlike Royal's Magic Margin the KMG was on the body of the typewriter to the right.

Under the hood, both MM and KMC used an actuated arm to press a spring loaded marginal stop. If you are familiar with MM, then the KCM would make total sense. The KMC procedure was very similar to Royal's. Interestingly enough, the entire lawsuit centered around a patent created not by Hart, but a man named William Woodfine. William Woodfine is the grandfather of the Magic Margin.

Woodfine was a Canadian living in Verdun near Montreal when he applied for a U.S. patent for a "Margin Regulator for Typewriters." He wanted to improve margin system so "that rearwarly disposed margin stops may be caused to assume position in correspondence with a selected setting of the carriage through... forwardly projecting control keys." The patent was filed on November 1st, 1932 and issued on July 4, 1933. 

The most interesting part of the whole case against Remington was the revelation that Royal had purchased the Woodfile patent ten years before Smith's judgement. That would be around 1937-1938. The Hart Magic Margin patent was filed in 1938. It seems that Royal stumbled on this novel method for setting a margin and, before they issued their own improvement patent, wanted to secure the rights to Woodfine. 

Remington Rand appealed the ruling and the case came before Learned Hand. Hand was a well-known and well-respected judge and legal philosopher. In his time on the bench he heard many cases including several free speech appeals during World War I. Hand was particularly interested in patent law.

L. Hand's eyebrows frequently wrote their own opinions.

Hand affirmed Smith's earlier judgment in 1948. One of the most interesting outcomes of this case was the number of times that Hand is quoted from the Royal opinion.

Ultimately, Royal's ownership of this patent was upheld and we can see the repercussions of this in Remington's typewriter technology. Nowhere in the 1950s will you see an automatic margin on a Remington. 

The Woodfine patent was also brought up in another margin lawsuit with SCM in the 1960s. I have not looked too closely at the particulars, but I imagine that the outcome was similar. 

Even with all the legal harangue, Remington still made a very high quality typewriter that was used by large sectors of the U.S. Government.

I have another Remington desktop. It's nice as well.

I guess that if you take the body panels off, you can "unroll" the whole typewriter to work on it. I'll have to give that a try.

So, if you happen to see one of these typers out in the wild, give one a try. Even without the fancy margin set you'll still enjoy it.

CTP Data: Year Three

It's been a while since I posted any sort of stats or survey results, but here are some new numbers fresh from my classes today. After I get a few more data points I might do a comparison between the first year of the CTP and this year. It might be an interesting trend. Regardless, please enjoy these typewritten statistics.

History Comes Alive

The Royal "Radio Mill" in my private collection is one of the more interesting typewriters I own. The typeface (10 pitch all-caps) is very easy to read. Considering its purpose, that makes sense. I've been using it recently to make lists for our Sunday shopping. It is a fairly mundane task and I am sure that there have been far more important things that a 10 pitch radio-mill Royal would have done in its life.

Here is one such thing:

This is a naval dispatch is dated 7 DEC 1941; a date that will live in infamy. I found it while browsing the National Archives web page. This particular dispatch was sent to Sqantum Naval Air Station outside of Boston.

What caught my eye wasn't the historical import of the document, but the typeface used to type this dispatch. When I saw it it looked very familiar. I had and idea, so I went to the office and typed this out on my Royal:

My ribbon is a little drier and the original form might be a carbonless carbon, but the similarities are there. What clinched it for me was the number "4." It is very distinctive as you can see in this earlier post:

 When you see something like this it really makes history come alive.

A Silent Tower

I started working on cleaning up a typewriter that has sat neglected for a while. It's this Sears Tower.

Many of you know it as a Skyriter and it is one in every aspect except name. This particular machine is missing the decorative paper arm cover. It is a common piece to find missing. 

I was looking out the sliding glass door at the butte behind our home. (There's another one in front of our house called Deem Hill.) The sky was a pale blue. A haze covered the finer delineations of the rock face. Falcons and eagles circled overhead slowly catching thermals rising and then falling. The hilly country of the Sonoran desert has a stark beauty. It takes time to learn to appreciate it, but the beauty is there to find.

I started to think about the name Tower. It's an odd name to give a typewriter. It makes me think of the towers of Silence that played a significant role in the funerary rights of the Zoroastrians. 

Was this little Tower left to decay out of sight? Will the carrion artists pluck key tops and repurpose them as horrible rings and necklaces? Who will sweep your brittle remains into the ossuary?

I happen to have another Tower from Ton S. This Tower is Presidential, the one above is a Chieftain.

A Chieftan of what? It's fitting that not too far from my home is an amazing museum: The Deer Valley Rock Art Center. At this off-the-beaten-path museum you can see petroglyphs dating back 7,000 years.  Could they be neolithic blog posts? Is this an heir to the kingdom of the Hohokam?

A rock and an idea. It could be the ultimate in distraction-free writing. 

Back to this typewriter. As with most 1950s Smith-Coronae, the sound-deadening material smells very bad. It has a must that can only be eliminated by removal. I was able to remove the offending odor and get to work on the dirty mechanism. It's not a big job, but it might take a few days.

Hermes Ambassador in the Wild

Today was the first day that a student wanted to use the copper-painted Hermes Ambassador. I fitted it out with a nice green ribbon from Baco and let a young lady in my first hour have a go at this freshly customized typewriter.

The response?

"I love this typewriter."

I couldn't agree more.

A Brother-ly Post

After reading a post by Will Davis about a very mysterious Webster, I decided to look at the CTP collection. When I really started looking there were actually quite a few. Many are rebrands, but two are the real-deal.

Typing Pictures

During journals the other day, I grabbed a few pictures of busy typing hands.

The Typewriters Are A Hit and Oh, Brother!

Due to some scheduling difficulties, we were finally able to use the typewriters on Friday. Our Journal topics for Fridays are "freewrites" so it was perfect opportunity to have them used. They could take all the time they needed to get comfortable with the typewriter. I front-loaded instruction on Thursday with a small presentation all bout the CTP and some of the data behind using the typewriters. The Thursday presentation primed them for the excitement on Friday.

The sound of 20 typewriters tapping away is really very familiar. For three years my work day has been filled with the whack of type bars against papers and platens. I have grown so accustomed to the sound that the absence is more deafening than the presence.

Of all the classes who have used typewriters, this group was the most enthusiastic. They really loved giving it a chance. This group of kids really paid attention to the into diagram and had very little trouble getting started. You know something is a success when it's time to switch activities and their is an audible groan of disapproval. I think that over the course of the school year the typewriter love will increase.

I mention 20 typewriters because I have decided to keep 20 in constant rotation; moving out typewriters that become damaged or a little worn out. I have enough of a back stock that I can be a few months behind on repairs and still have 20 completely working typewriters. As always Royals make up a large portion of what students use, but there seem to be more and more Brothers moving through the ranks.

Brother typewriters have proven to be incredibly rugged and dependable. The harsh view I held of the Performer has been worn smooth by nearly three years of dependable service. I am nearly amazed at how student-proof they are. While the pile of Olivettis gets larger and larger, the brothers keep on working. In the course of repairing the few minor problems that so many of Brother's parts are completely interchangeable. Screws tend to be a uniform size. They are easy to work on because components (like the escapement) are easily accessible. The bottom line is that they can survive in my classroom and that is no easy feat.

I am slowly becoming a convert. They tend to grow on you. That brings me to one of the newest typewriters to make an appearance in the classroom. Ton S. spoke about this Brother in his blog. I got an email saying that he would like to send it on to my classroom rather than keep it. I was more than happy to take it off his hands. I had a couple of Smith-Coronae that needed to be retired for repairs. That funny little clasp they use for linking the segments tends to fail under heavy use. It's one of the perennial problems with 1950s Silents and their Galaxy siblings. Ton was a gentlemen of the first order and paid to have this shipped over to me. It arrived packed incredibly well, but the carriage was freewheeling just as Ton had described in his post. The fix did not hold.

Photo by I Dream Lo-Tech

The carriage would just spring all the way over to the marginal stop. It was freewheeling in the worst way. I cracked the case open to get a closer look. Just as Ton had described, there was a hairline fracture on one end of the escapement paddle (is that what they are called?). You know, its the thing that swings into place to stop the carriage from advancing more than one space.

I could see that the crack had caused the little prong of metal to be bent back so it was not engaging with the escapement wheel teeth. I looked at it closer and as soon as I touched it the whole enchilada fell apart. It was being held on by a thread. Clearly the trip over hill and dale proved to be too much for Ton's repair. The paddle was held in place by a pivoting screw and it was very easy to remove the part and have a closer look. I was able to save the little piece that fell off.

I looked at the piece and (initially) I thought that I would try to make a new piece out of some scraps I had around here, but I noticed that there was a vertical post attached to the underside. This little bit is part of the carriage release linkage. Pressing the carriage release button presses on this post and swings the paddle out of the way of the escapement wheel. Obviously, I wouldn't be able to manufacture a piece easily so I looked to fixing the piece I had.

Glue wouldn't be strong enough unless I had a very strong and powerful glue. Something like…J.B. Weld might do the trick. I looked at the piece and saw that the break was clean. There were no gaps when the two parts were put together. I would need to make sure that the J.B. Weld bridged the break to add to the strength. Also, the piece was fairly smooth. Sanding it well to create a key would be very important.

I took out my rotary tool and used an emery bit to roughen up all the sides that would touch the epoxy. I mixed up a small amount and glued the pieces together. I was totally prepared to have this not work at all, so with apprehension I let it sit until the epoxy cured. This was what emerged 24 hours later.

I reinstalled the piece in the typewriter and it works like a charm. Time will tell how well the epoxy will hold, but the package says it is rated strong at 3,000 PSI (That is tensile strength.) with shear strength of 1000 PSI. The proof is in the pudding. It works.

The joint is the weakest part and I assume that it will only be a matter of time before it fails. This, however, will buy me time until I find a suitable replacement.

P.S. Ton, you are awesome!

Pulleys

So, Where's the Classroom?

So if this blog's sub-heading is "Classroom Typewriter Project" I am sure you are noticing a lack of classrooms and projects. Typewriters? Plenty of those, but very few classrooms and projects.

Well, I am happy to say that the final spool has been wound and the ribbons are set to go back into the machines. It looks like Tuesday will be the introduction to the project with a presentation for my classes and the first typed documents will be coming out of the machines shortly after that.

There are a few new typers to be added to the list. These were donated by Ton S. and Bill M. Right now, I would like to give Bill M. the "Typewriter Packer of the Year Award" for his beautiful attention to details and twist ties. Here are some photos:

Ton's' second donation is still in a case at home. I am going to be taking it to school on Tuesday. If I remember, I'll post a copy of my presentation for everyone to see. 

I also desperately need to update the donors list and the machines currently in rotation. So, in reality, there are quite a few projects. 

Typogram From Richard

Richard's Typogram to me. It is filled with typey goodness!

The Super Mega Capacitor of Death



You can see the extent of the electrical complexity of this typewriter. The massive motor is on the other side. The vertical piece of  plastic to the right is the power switch which is actuated by a lever assembly at the front of the machine. Three parts make this typewriter electric; a switch, a capacitor, and a motor.

Fully charged, I assume that it would hold a nice little jolt. Who needs coffee when you have this?

Promising Typewriter Book

Uppercase Magazine (completely new to me) is working on a new book about the graphic history of the typewriter. This project promises to be very interesting. Janine Vangool, the architect of this project has put together a small video detailing the hows and whys.

The interesting thing about this book is that it is a completely graphic look at the world of the typewriter. Based on what the video describes a significant part of the book is dedicated to ephemera and advertising. For people who are at the intersection of the typewriter-graphic arts Venn diagram, this promises to be an interesting book.
The project is being funded by Kickstarter and it looks like there are miles to go before the printer, but it is over half-funded. It will be interesting to see how this book turns out. Click on this sentence to be taken to Uppercase's page about the book.
On a final note, Janine is looking for interesting examples of typewriter ephemera. From what I can understand she would like to work with you to scan the material. I know that the Typosphere has more than its fair-share of interesting materials.

Peeling Back the Layers

An Olivetti Lexicon 80E gives up its secrets slowly.

When I bought it I knew the draw band had been disconnected. The band did not look broken or frayed and I assumed that it had just come loose from the pulley. Tracing the path of the band past a few rollers and guides I was able to find where it connected, but was thwarted by the case. From what I could see there were two screws holding on the whole of the body.

 I loosened the screws but the body was pinned by the carriage. I took a gamble and figures that the carriage on this machine was removable. It seemed a likely possibility. What repairman would want to disassemble and entire carriage and sub-assembly just to get to a ribbon vibrator? I looked around and settled on two screws. After removing them, the carriage, escapement, and other components lifted out easily. The whole operation is very reminiscent of what you would see on the Olympia SG-1.

After that I was able to remove the body panel (there were two additional screws) and gain access to the draw band pulley. The real mystery is how the darn thing is connected. I intend to work on the pulley today and with any luck I might be able to fire it up. I haven't even plugged it in because I really want to get in there and look around. Also, there is a very large capacitor that gives me the heebie-jeebies. I would not want to meet with it fully energized.

I have yet found a serial number on the body, but I did find this hand-scrawled number on the carriage. 2876? What could it mean? Perhaps 2876 pounds; the weight of this typewriter.

La Macchina da Scrivere Pesante*

I plan on doing a much larger post about this typewriter, but I did want to post a quick picture of my newest acquisition. It needs some work and a good wash. I haven't even plugged it in to see what state the motor is in. Regardless, I am fairly certain that these heavy (as in 65 lb.) typewriters are unusual.

* The quality of this translation rests solely in the hands of the very clever boffins at Google. If you know better, please let me know.