This is a curious little radio I bought only a few years ago, because I enjoyed the lines. I don’t remember what I paid for it, but it was probably in the $30-40 range. It was manufactured by the Hardware Merchandising Corporation, and I understand it’s based on a 1947 or 1948 Crosley Model 58TL or a 57TL (via this site). I haven’t cleaned it up, turned it on, or done anything to it other than put it on a shelf, so it has a future date with some Brasso and a tube tester.
This is the first radio I ever bought. I found it in a funky little thrift store, in the annex room of a church, across the street from my apartment in college. It was dirty, and it smelled like cigars when it warmed up, but it’s one of the loudest and strongest of the radios I have. I bought it for $30 because I liked the idea of listening to the Big Band station that still existed here in Baltimore while I worked, and for that, it didn’t let me down. I’ve seen other variations on the model in stores here and there (most of them more attractive than this) but I have a sentimental attachment to this old beast, even though I don’t like the lines, the detailing, or the knobs. This radio makes me think of Lil Jon, not because it’s full of crunk juice, but because it’s all gold up in the grill.
This is one of a series of radios I rescued from a long-forgotten store in Fells Point called John’s Antiques. At the time they had a cavernous second floor filled with piles of old merchandise, arranged in some kind of organized fashion to be liquidated. I found, in a back room, a pile of radios covered in dust, and arranged to buy the best of the lot with the money I had. As I recall, there were three versions of this model, and I bought two because they were $20/apiece. This one cleaned up very well and has an excellent tone—warm and rich. Even though it seems to be a common design and plentiful on the market, I like this model’s lines because they remind me of an Alco FB-1, a common diesel train engine of that time.
Here’s a link to the wiring diagram, scanned into PDF format by a very thorough fellow.
Gregg Easterbrook, in an article penned twenty years ago, points out the realities of the Columbia’s design purpose:
“While all five engines are screaming, there will be acoustic vibrations reaching 167 decibels, enough to kill an unprotected person. In orbit, the shuttle will drift through -250°F. vacuum, what engineers call the “cold soak.” It’s cold enough to embrittle and shatter most materials. During reentry, the ship’s skin goes from cold soak to 2,700°F., hot enough to transform many metals into Silly Putty… After reentry, it cascades through the air without power; finally thunking down onto the runway at 220 m.p.h… The shuttle’s design goal is to take this nightmare ride 100 times. “
Something to think about.
In looking through the news reports, it’s time to pause and reflect on how brave seven people were in pursuing their dreams. Godspeed.
Today I found a link on the mighty Metafilter about antique radios, which is a hobby I’ve kind of put aside while the house has been shaping up. There’s a pretty nice list of sets on this site, which looks to be someone’s personal collection, as well as a list of other sites and links to tube resellers (a must-have when dealing with 60-year-old radios), dial covers (which were made from cellulose plastic and frequently melted or glazed), and other parts. At some point I’m going to post a section on this site with my personal collection, which numbers currently at seventeen. (And I’ll light a candle for the Emerson Catalin radio I saw, and did not buy, six years ago in Fell’s Point.) There is no better way to listen to Prairie Home Companion or Big Band music than through an AM tube radio.