George Baker and the Typewriter Business

George Baker started out in typewriters in 1932 and stuck with the business - his war service aside - until retirement in 2006.  My father and I were lucky to interview Mr. Baker on the final day his business was open, as he was having a total clearance sale.  We ended up with a few items that he knew we'd appreciate - one being his treasured Royal Line Book.  But the stories and memories were the important part of the day.

The story really begins with George Baker's father, who had already taken one run at typewriters years before, servicing local machines as an independent mechanic.  That adventure had ended badly when the elder Baker's partner suddenly absconded to Canada with all of the machines; Baker started over by doing something else.

After a series of factory and foundry jobs, the elder Baker decided to have another run at typewriters because he knew he could do it; asking his son, George, to come along in the venture gave him both an extra pair of hands and an apprentice.  George was right out of high school and given the job market at the peak of the Great Depression, agreed to join with his father.  

The Bakers began by approaching businesses in town and asking if they had maintenance or repair contracts for their typewriters; they also offered to refurbish machines that were overly worn out.  The Bakers soon had customers and decided to rent part of a home in Elyria for $15 a month in order to operate their business out of it. The Bakers carried typewriters by hand in those early days from businesses to their rented space for work. "I remember sitting on the porch of that house many days and nights," George Baker told us, "scrubbing many small parts with a brush, some gasoline, and my bare hands."  

Baker explained to us how meticulously his father taught him all aspects of the business, which of course turned out to be as much about people as it did machines.  Paramount was selling the customers on the service they would receive, and then building relationships that would last.  "He taught me how to deal with customers as people, and people as customers" Baker quipped.  

The father and son duo did well - perhaps, better than even they had suspected.  They decided to take the next step, and looked for a typewriter manufacturer who would allow them to obtain a dealer license in Elyria.  There was a bit of fear that the Cleveland dealers might object, but they did not; the result finally in 1934 was that the Bakers launched a dealership with Royal Typewriter Company. 

The timing could not have been better.   Royal, according to Baker's own words, "had just changed their number 10 machine to the segment shift which was much lighter and easier than before."  Although they didn't know it at the time, this was the final puzzle piece that would allow Royal to overtake Underwood as the #1 selling standard typewriter in the United States. 

According to Baker, the segment shift 10 did a lot to sell itself, although you had to bring one along with you on sales calls.  "You could sell the Royal as opposed to an Underwood with the heavier carriage shift if you just let the secretary or typist try it out and you would say 'see how easy that is' and that look on her face with the boss watching would usually do the trick," he told us - somewhat proudly.

(Aside:  Baker is one of two long time Ohio dealers who have told us separately that in their experience the Royal No. 10 is the finest standard typewriter ever made anywhere and was unbeatable in office durability as well as ease of adjustment and repair.)

Baker continued on comparison sales.  "Now, the L. C. Smith already had the basket shift from way back, but at that time they still hadn't started using the segment yet - still had separate type bar bearings.  So, you could take a Smith that was kind of worn out and type on it erratically and if you knew how to do it, you could get it to print all over the place ... and then you type off a page on the Royal you're demonstrating, and everything's in line and of course the boss just goes right for that."  With this, Baker did slyly remark to us as I recall that it was important to figure out who in the office actually had the most influence on what typewriters to buy - it could be a senior secretary and not the office manager, for example.  However they did it, using their acumen or whether it was just the attributes of the new Royal, the Baker Typewriter Company began to take off.

Baker at one point paused and thoughtfully said to us "then there was Woodstock.  They were always around, somehow, but they never seemed to be a factor in anything."  He then went right on talking about sales.    

Baker Typewriter moved several times after than until obtaining a proper storefront in 1940.  When war broke out, the younger Baker didn't get drafted and initially didn't enlist, he told us.  Offhand remarks and looks began among the townspeople and Baker's father told him that he'd better enlist right away if he wanted to really make it in the business coming home after the war.  That's just what George did; originally he was billeted to an office machine job (he'd let them know what he could do with typewriters) but Baker changed over completely to armor.  That's right- tanks.  In fact, George Baker the typewriter man became a decorated veteran serving in the famous 749th Tank Battalion, serving everywhere in Europe from Normandy to the Ardennes Forest and the Battle of the Bulge.  The 749th also drove in on the very final assault into Nazi Germany, right to the end.  Baker did in fact return home a hero.

Rapid changes happened again for George, as he took over the typewriter business from his father upon returning - and then, his father passed away soon after.  The business was doing so well that George began to become somewhat of a local business magnate; he invested in the Baker Building in 1955 and moved his business into it in 1966; the building is seen in the photo opening this article.  

Another change occurred for Baker in 1966.  Baker told us that he had become increasingly displeased not with Royal's standard machines, but with the portables both domestic and imported which seemed to be continuously dropping in quality and which he felt just weren't competitive.  Baker made the decision to change affiliations to Olympia; he's seen above with an Olympia keyboard chart from that time period.  Change or no, Baker Typewriter had become the biggest dealer in Lorain County, and also held a number of large school contracts for office and typing education machines.  

Baker continued on through the years of electric and then electronic machines, of course having to branch out into other kinds of office equipment to keep going.  Business steadily declined however, and in 2006 Baker finally decided to retire.

George Baker preferred to recall the good old days instead of the decline.  "I remember carrying two typewriters in each hand, with my hands and fingers just so (he showed us) and I could get them from offices to the shop and back that way.  Later of course I could only carry one on each arm, and later of course less!" he joked.  He also recalled how his father had taught him the true art of sales.  "My father taught me never to oversell the machine, or services, but to deal with the customer honestly and squarely.  When the customer asked a question like 'how much is it then for the one with the wide carriage' or some other such thing you had just described, you just stopped talking right there because the sale was already made."  

For many years, George Baker's life was simply full of typewriters and the office business.  While we've found many men who worked in the trade and treated it as just another job, it was clear to us as we finally shook hands and said goodbye (late enough in the evening that Baker's wife was almost late for an appointment) that Baker really loved the business - every minute of it, and every aspect of it - and indeed liked remembering the good times as the best of goodbyes.

Another classic article from willdavis dot org.  Originally published 2006; full rewrite 2024.

 

A New Look at the Barr Typewriter

Will Davis / June 2024

Preface:  I first published my comprehensive article on the Barr and its variants almost 20 years ago.  Since then, it's held up pretty well - but two things have caused me to revise and republish it.  First, the site it was published on is essentially defunct and closed.  Second, I've been able to acquire many more research resources since then and I can much more accurately delineate changes in the history, both to the machine and to corporate entities.  I hope you enjoy this near-total revision and rewrite which includes many illustrations from the original piece.  

Background.  John H. Barr, already a well known mechanical engineer generally and, specifically, in the typewriter field, left Remington Typewriter in 1923 to launch a firm of his own.  Barr joined forces with Morse Chain Company in Ithaca, New York and the Barr-Morse Corporation was formed in that year.  Barr had been involved with a number of significant machines for the Remington (Union) sphere including the large Smith Premier 10 full keyboard visible and the original Remington portable. 

Barr applied for patents covering a wholly different concept of typewriter design and manufacture in 1925; this machine would be built to the size and cost of the largest portables then on the market or planned but was to be designed so as to be made from stampings of sheet stock and extruded wire as much as possible, in order to simplify assembly and repair.  This was in sharp contrast to the complicated and expensive-to-build Remington portables of the day.  Further, the machine would incorporate segment shift for the first time in a large four bank portable.  

Market Introduction.  We can now, through the availability of advertising, be certain that the Barr Typewriter was introduced to the market in the last quarter of 1927.  The following advertisement appeared in the Typewriter Trade Journal in October, 1927; advertisements in New York papers appeared soon after.

"The Correspondence Machine for Office and Home' and the clever slogan "Small Enough to Carry Off, Sturdy Enough to Carry On" directly imply the intent of the makers that the Barr Typewriter was suitable for serious use.  

Early Model.  When introduced to the market, only one model - the Barr Typewriter - was available.  Richard Polt let us on to the fact years ago that a repair manual in his collection (which is now online) told of numerous, but small, changes in the machines at serial number 2000; we also have here a typewriter trade-in listing from 1930 that mentions Barr portables' trade value with a differentiation between pre-serial-2000 and post-serial-2000 machines.  Price of the machine as introduced was given as $65 but some were offered at an "introductory price" of $45.  

Above, Barr Typewriter serial 1258 from the Chuck Dilts / Rich Cincotta collection.  Very few machines from prior to the design revisions at serial number 2000 exist today, and from an operability standpoint there is no difference in the machines before and after the break.

From the Herman and Connie Price collection comes this wonderful green Barr, serial 2099.

From my collection is this red Barr, serial 2521.  This machine is complete and operable and has its original brown carrying case.  

Barr Typewriter - Description.  The Barr incorporates a full-size keyboard with shift keys both sides, and a shift lock only on the right; the lock is depressed by itself only to achieve a locked shift.  The lock is released by the right-side shift key.  This typewriter incorporates what Barr referred to as "perpendicular key action" which later in the industry would be more generally known as "parallel key action," in which the key top remains parallel to the tabletop when depressed.  Similar key action (although with totally different mechanism) appeared on the Smith Premier standards as well as others before the Barr and appeared on the large portable L.C. Smith & Corona that would hit the market a few years later.  This key motion is thought by many to make a machine easy to use for a wider range of typists of varied strength and speed.  Shift on this typewriter, affecting the segment, is rapid, light and positive.  The machine has a solid feel and is capable of considerable speed.

One unusual feature on these machines is the "Paragraph and Indent Device" applied to the rear of the carriage; this takes the place of a conventional tabulator and incorporates the margin stops as well as tabulator or indent stops. 

Above, detail from the patent granted to Walter Barnard for the paragraph indent and tabulator device applied to Barr typewriters.  Below is the device as seen on Barr Typewriter serial 2521.

Operation of the device is simple; normally it simply operates as the margin rack, and the outer stops serve as the margin stops.  The different inner stops come into play when the lever seen at the top left of the photos is operated; in conjunction with the margin release, the carriage motion will be arrested at each intermediate stop on the rack. Margin release operates normally via a key to the left of the keyboard proper.  While clever and simple, this device was probably not competitive.

This illustration from material in the Dilts/Cincotta collection proves that a wide carriage Barr was available; this had ten tabulator stops and included the same device as seen above on s/n 2521.  Price of this wide carriage version was $80.

February 1929 advertisement shows the unusual "Typelyte" (also seen as "Type Lite") attachment, none of which is known to be in any collection with a Barr Typewriter.

In April 1929 it was announced that Morse Chain had been bought out by Borg-Warner; some of the side or smaller businesses that Morse was engaged in were not purchased by the outside firm but instead were sold directly either to Frank L. Morse himself or designated persons as a part of the whole package deal.  Barr-Morse Corporation was not included in the sale to Borg-Warner and came under the control of Frank Morse and John Barr; our best information tells us that production was continued as-is in the Morse factory complex on top of South Hill in Ithaca, New York.

Split into Two Models.  Somewhere between serial numbers 4133 and 8871, and in all probability in early 1930, the company decided to split production into two different models. In any case, the split occurred prior to July 1930. The original model effectively continued as the Barr Universal, while a stripped down model was launched as the Barr Special.  A facsimile letter in the collection of Peter Weil tells us that in July 1930 the retail price of the Barr Special was $50 while the dealer cost for the machine was $30.  Similarly, the Barr Universal retailed at $65 while dealer cost was $39.

Available data - which is incomplete - seems to show that for a time the Universal may have retained the Barnard-designed paragraph device on the rear of the carriage, but soon enough a conventional tabulator operated by a key on the keyboard was designed and included.  

This green Barr Special comes to us from the Herman and Connie Price collection and is serial number P17857.  It is unusual in that the paint is crinkle finish.  The Special lacked the ribbon selector, variable line spacer and left-hand carriage release that the Universal had and also had no tabulator of any sort.

From the photo library and collection of the late Tilman Elster we have this illustration of a later Barr Special, serial number C3P548.  Look carefully and you will notice that the shift lock key has moved down to above the right-side shift key, from its former position abreast the third row of keys.  This is because the machine had been redesigned slightly by this point to incorporate a key operated tabulator in the Universal version, which of course is omitted on the Special.  See next photo for clarification.

Barr Universal serial number B4U926 comes to us also from the Tilman Elster collection; the tabulator key is visible above the shift lock on the right side of the keyboard, as is the ribbon selector switch on the top cover.  

Production in Canada.  Unfortunately, an error has crept into the popular history of the Barr - it is written in places that production in the US ended in 1934 and was sent to Canada.  In fact, the origin of this error appears to be the catalog that was written in 1965 to accompany the Carl P. Dietz collection of typewriters (now housed at the Milwaukee Public Museum).  This is not the case; the facts are, briefly, as follows.

In 1933 Canadian press reported that architects in Montreal had been contracted to find a site for and design a $175,000 factory for the US based Barr-Morse Corporation in order to start production in Canada and for export to the British Empire from there.  This did not occur; what did happen seems to be that space was rented in the Montreal factory of Northern Electric Company.  A Canadian corporation, titled Barr-Morse Company Ltd. was incorporated in Montreal in July 1933 with a capitalization of $50,000 to launch the Canadian effort.  However, there is simply no indication at all that production was moved to Canada or, in other words, ended in the US.  There MAY have been a lull in production or a slowdown due to the general economy, but as we will shortly see, production in Canada was a parallel, not a move. 

Close inspection of the front frame of Tilman Elster's Barr Special, serial F1P591 will reveal the name "Barr Morse Company Ltd" and the fact that this machine was made in Canada.  These are very hard to find today.  

Barr Typewriter Corporation, NY NY and Weedsport, NY.  The intervening years between 1934 and 1937 do not yield much news of the Barr; it seems clear today that the machine never really took off, with the effort remaining alive but "at the back of the pack" as could be said of Woodstock Typewriter Company in the field of standard typewriters.  Barr himself sold out his interest in the company somewhere between '34 and '36, and the company was bought out by interests from New York in April 1937. 

A report in the Ithaca Journal, printed on May 11, 1937, detailed the fact that the new Barr Typewriter Corporation had purchased "the existing parts of the former Barr Typewriter," and rented from Morse the plant space used formerly by Barr-Morse in order to complete the assembly of machines in the process of being made.  Contracts were also put out for fabrication of parts needed to complete these typewriters.  A brief effort was made to find a place to relocate in Ithaca, but the move to Weedsport New York was shortly announced.  Offices for the new firm were established remotely, at 33 East 33rd Street in New York City.

(Aside:  It is from the above report coming out of Ithaca in 1937 that we can be convinced that production of the typewriters was not in whole moved to Canada in 1934.)

I was fortunate to contact Ezio Leonardi years ago, whose father, Salvatore Leonardi, took part in operating the factory for Barr in Weedsport.  Leonardi had been associated with the first effort in Ithaca and he and several other men moved along with the operation to Weedsport.  Leonardi in fact owned his own plating equipment and leased it to the new corporation.  According to Ezio Leonardi, the elder Leonardi had related that production of the typewriters ended either in 1939 or 1940.  

This remarkable 1939 letter shared to us from the Don and Carolyn Hoke Collection details the apparent fact that the new company continued with two models - a Model 21 that had ribbon selector, and a Model 40 that was single color.  Note also that the old slogan of the company has been replaced with "You can use a Barr wherever you are."  Mechanics will want to pay attention to the remark about the hardening of the type bars near their base as regards adjustments.

Weedsport machines shown.

From the late Tilman Elster's collection we see Barr (model 21) serial number 40339.  This is a very high serial number; Weedsport machines, no matter what label they carry, run roughly from serial number 37000 to serial numbers in the 40000 range.  This is the equivalent of the old Universal model.  Note the change to black keytops, found on most or all Weedsport-manufactured Barr-designed machines.

A truly rare variant is this "Standard Model Mercury" portable, actually again a Weedsport built Barr with serial 40155 and also from the collection of Tilman Elster.  It's not known to this writer just who was behind this labeling, but Royal was marketing a version of its portable as the Mercury at this time as well - which may explain why few of these exist.

From my collection comes this Macy's Portable No. 1, serial number 39840.  This labeling variant is probably the most commonly found Weedsport Barr.  This machine is fully operable, and I have typed on it extensively.  It is one of the most pleasant machines in my collection for use.  As with all Barr machines, it incorporates a snappy, accelerating type-bar action and it responds well to a firm, fast typing technique.  

The back of my machine, serial 39840 clearly displays the name of the final corporation and the place of manufacture.  Remember, this is a Macy's Portable No. 1 and yet it still clearly states on the rear the original manufacturer.  

Variations.  Most Barr-Morse machines are in smooth paint and have white keytops, and most Weedsport machines are in crinkle finish paint and have black keytops.  However, documented factory exceptions to all of these are known.  In addition, there are at least a few machines made after the model split in 1930 which do not state on the machines themselves the model.  For example, one machine is known that is clearly the stripped Barr Special with no ribbon switch, but the machine carries "Barr Typewriter" labeling as had the single-model machines prior.  

Advertising Materials.  We will conclude our new look at the Barr with some illustrations of advertising materials that appeared on the original article from 2005 and additions to it through 2008.

Barr Special folder, Dilts/Cincotta collection.

Early Barr Typewriter flyer detail, Dilts/Cincotta collection. 

Ink blotter, Barr Typewriter, Peter Weil collection.

This article is a complete revision from my original Portable Typewriter Reference Site linked from willdavis.org and should be considered a replacement.  I hope you've enjoyed it!

Annie L. and the Annell

 

The Annell typewriter (perhaps, properly written as Annell') has remained an enigma for collectors of antique machines for many years.  Serial numbers of surviving machines tell us that not more than about a thousand of these were built; advertisements tell us that the machine was only on the market for about a year, meaning that sales must have been incredibly slow.  

Physical examination of Will's Annell years ago (available in detail on our YouTube channel) revealed that the Annell is in fact a new frame, top deck and carriage assembly into which were inserted Woodstock Typewriter Company components that match up with known models No. 3, No. 4 and even No. 5.  Oddly, the trade papers of the day stated that the Annell was "the Woodstock No. 4" (paraphrase) sold by mail order but the important thing to note here is that the No. 4 was off the market for years before the Annell appeared. 

A new and startling discovery has been made; the Annell Typewriter Company's incorporating Chairman was none other than Richard W. Sears II, then Chairman of the Woodstock Typewriter Company.  As to the name of the machine;

Thus, "Annell" was a spoken contraction of "Annie L."  The firm was incorporated out of a bank in Chicago, although its headquarters were later moved to Ohio Street in Chicago.  The above cut of text comes from the 1922 edition of Business Equipment Topics; evidence of incorporation comes from Moody's and other sources published at the time.

We continue to research machines that we've covered before in order to determine how the thousands of documents uploaded to the net daily might help us; what's still totally unclear is why Woodstock would attempt this mail-order-only effort with a machine priced essentially the same as the normal Woodstock.  The desire to clear out a backlog of No. 3 and No. 4 parts seems a tempting assumption, but in point of fact the date of release of the Annell makes that seem a stretch.  Unscrupulous though it would have been it seems far more likely that the Annell actually contained traded-in No. 3 and No. 4 parts placed in a new frame so as to legally constitute a "brand new machine," but the details presently available are insufficient for proof.  

Collectors and researchers are sure to continue to find the Annell fascinating, and hopefully once in a while we'll now refer to this machine as the "Annie L"!

Quite an Investment

I bought the post card you see below recently, and looking at it for a few moments got me thinking.

What we're seeing here is a pre-World War One view of the Entry Department of the headquarters of Sears, Roebuck and Company in Chicago.  This is where order blanks filled out by customers are transcribed using typewriters onto forms that go to the merchandise departments' pickers.  

Now, what's interesting here is really two things:  First, we can see that all the typewriters in view are Olivers.  That's probably not surprising given the qualities of the Oliver - visible, indestructible.  Second, there could be as many as four hundred of them in just this room alone.  That's a LOT of typewriters.

Not too many years later, we'd have a view in any of the Sears working rooms more like that below.

This second view comes from the front page of a Harris Visible Typewriters trade catalog, and it shows a room full of Harris Visible No. 4 machines in the early variant; some nearer us have carriage attachments.  Look at the caption, though - "..nearly one thousand are in constant service throughout our plant."  That's a WHOLE LOT of typewriters ..  and, frankly, a pretty enormous investment in machinery.  In fact, Sears stated in this trade catalog that it had entirely re-equipped using the Harris and that it had sold off all other makes formerly used in its offices.  (Sears sold them direct by mail, as "used.")

De Witt C. Harris (shown above for the first time and which photo comes from Harris letterhead in my collection) and his brother Benjamin Harris were District Sales Managers for Remington Typewriter Company when in 1908 they decided to take up an offer from Sears, Roebuck to design a typewriter ostensibly for sale through its catalog.  As with the Burnett, Sears would buy the entire output of the factory (at least initially.)  

In November 1912, after several years of development, the Harris was put into production in the form seen below, with solid keytops like those on an Oliver and other contemporary makes, and at that time Sears began to replace the typewriters in its various offices and plants with the Harris as rapidly as possible.

Harris Visible No. 4, serial 13680, Will Davis collection.  This typewriter is in bad shape, but it retains its original solid (one piece) keytops.  There is evidence to suggest that Harris and later Rex were rebuilding their machines, and so a number of very early machines were refitted with ring style keytops later.  Note that an operator of an Oliver would have little trouble changing right over to a Harris Visible - both were three bank, double shift visible typewriters.

Here's what got me thinking about that post card I first showed.  At the time that these Olivers were purchased, they were still solidly $100 typewriters; this was years before Oliver got rid of its big branch offices and went to mail order at roughly half price.  On the other hand, the Harris Visible initially retailed at $39.80, although within a short time it had to be increased to $44.50 as the earlier price was too low (the Harris concern in fact was forced to reorganize).

So if we make an assumption that roughly 1000 Olivers (or any other big make) were replaced by 1000 Harris Visibles, we arrive at an interesting conclusion:  Sears, Roebuck and Company saved itself a vast amount of money in changing over to the Harris.  The cost of 1000 Olivers at retail at that time would, naturally, have been $100,000; the cost of 1000 Harris Visibles would have been $39800 to $44500 .. that is, IF the Harris machines were obtained by Sears for its own use at a retail price.  It's likely they were not, initially at least; the cost would thus have been lower if true.  So, Sears Roebuck cut its machinery investment down to roughly 40% of what it would have been had it reequipped with name brand $100 machines.

In today's money, $100,000 (in 1912) would be $2.6 MILLION.   And, $44500 would be about $1.2 million.  The actual savings to the company, which quite simply had to have that many typewriters in operation in order to do its work, was absolutely tremendous.  Which brings up a question:  Did Sears actually intend this when it opened up its offer for typewriters?  Did the company realize that a potentially large saving was possible if it not only sold, but used, a "cut rate" yet high quality machine in its own offices?  

It's impossible to say for sure because we have nothing to tell us either way.  However, it's also impossible to imagine that SOMEONE at Sears didn't grasp the magnitude of investment in machinery that Sears had just in typewriters alone, and it's not a stretch to at least consider the possibility that cutting its own costs was something Sears wanted to do all along as far as its own offices were concerned.  And again - we don't know this, but it sure is enough money to make you think twice about the real possibility that savings for itself was in Sears' play book all along.

But in reality, it's just a post card and these are just musings.  

Early (left) and main production (right) Harris Visible No. 4 machines.  Davis Bros. collection.

OCT 8 2019 WILL DAVIS

Sometimes You Forget - Commodore 2000

While looking around in the vault for Consul machines to show in the previous post I happened into the ABC - Cole Steel area and spotted two similar cases.  One of them I knew right off, but the other one, which was identical except for being a different color, was not familiar.  Yet another machine I'd forgotten about?  Yes.

The one whose exterior I recognized is shown first.  This is the Sears Chevron of the late 60's and it's one of the machines Sears brought in as a mid-priced machine.  This all-steel-bodied and well made typewriter was made by MESSA in Portugal, and derives from the ABC series made originally in Germany until 1966.  In Sears model parlance, this is a Sears 5298.  But what was in the other case?

Here's the answer:  A Commodore 2000, which I almost immediately remembered after opening up the gray case lid.  I quickly tried to remember how long I'd had it, but..  nothing.  Notable on the front left corner of the machine though was the sticker seen below.

This machine was not made in Portugal; it was made in Germany!  That makes it pretty unusual, since this design didn't last long there.  I was immediately glad to have one of the newer style machines made in Germany to compliment the Sears Chevron.

The earliest of the ABC line of typewriters had the general appearance of the "Hammertone Green" machine seen above, relabeled for sale by Cole Steel Office Machines in the United States.  This design was apparently expensive enough to make that the original maker in Germany redesigned the key lever / type bar portion of the machine while leaving most of the rest intact; the resulting redesign is seen above as the Commodore 2000 and, when moved to Portugal, the Sears Chevron. The redesign converts the front end of the machine to the modern 'four dowel' method of key lever mounting, with the ribbon bail driven off the top of the cranks formed by the key levers. 

The redesign apparently did not kill off the original basic design however, which was shifted to a plastic body and sold at a lower price.  This Sears 5297 actually has a significantly higher serial number than the Chevron / 5298 seen earlier, and of course was also made in Portugal.  To be clear, the machine seen here retains the same key lever mechanism as the original ABC (Cole Steel).  It's possible the company was simply using up stocks of parts to construct this late model. 

Anyway, the Commodore 2000 is one of the more unusual machines Jack Tramiel's Commodore Business Machines brought into Canada in the days before it became well-known as a computer manufacturer.  In this case the machines were made in Germany (by the original maker of the ABC line, Koch's Adlernahmaschinenwerke, Bielefeld) unlike the Consul-derived machines which arrived in pieces and which Commodore itself assembled.

These two - the Chevron and the 2000, whose fit and finish are identically good - are much better typewriters than their flattish appearance might let on.  While they're not as sturdy as larger more upright models they're everything that the contemporary Princess machine is in terms of quality and almost are in terms of typing feel.  They're solid and unlikely to get out of order; this variation is a definite improvement on the earlier ABC style with the early, different key lever mechanism.

I was reminded that this isn't the only old-style Commodore machine I had; there was also a Patria family machine somewhere down there to be found.  I eventually found it. 

This is a Spanish-made machine, with labeling applied for Commodore (part of which has long ago broken off; I got it this way.)  These Patria family machines were more often seen as the Amaya overseas and, in a later plastic bodied variant, the Florida here in the United States.  As with the German made machine this machine was wholly manufactured by its OEM originator and shipped complete to Commodore for distribution.  

Commodore registered its name for use on typewriters in 1964, although it stated in that filing that the first use of the name in commerce occurred in September 1959.  According to Tramiel's obituary in The Guardian, he formed the first version of Commodore in 1952 using a $25,000 GI loan; this was a shop in the Bronx, New York (actually the result of the buyout of a local shop, Singer Typewriter).  Tramiel moved and opened Commodore International Ltd. (later, Commodore Business Machines) in Toronto, Canada in 1955, according to the obit, "to import and sell typewriters."  According to Tramiel himself, there wasn't profit to be had solely in typewriter repair, but there was considerable profit in importing foreign made typewriters and selling them.  Soon, Tramiel found himself with a license to construct the Czech Consul typewriters and a big contract from Sears, Roebuck (Simpson's-Sears) in Canada.  Tramiel is quoted in that interview as saying that the actual application of the name Commodore to its typewriters didn't occur until 1958.

While it's the Consul machines that get mentioned most often by Tramiel in interviews, it's clear that the company was bringing in other makes to sell directly.  The company even brought in Remington standard machines which I've seen, carrying the same semi-script Commodore label.  As to the Commodore 2000, that model wasn't in production very long before manufacturing was shifted to Portugal, making it a solidly mid-60's machine.  

It's always nice to head into your collection and discover something you'd forgotten about, especially when it triggers another look at a history you'd written once before (the first Commodore pages appeared on my original site well over a decade ago).  Since downsizing considerably over the last several years I haven't had much opportunity for that to happen, but it still can today.  

Consuls Continue

When looking back at having had typewriter-related pages on the internet for 18 years this month I'm reminded of the early days of going out to second hand shops, antique stores and antique malls, consignment shops, garage sales and flea markets looking for typewriters.  One brand that we had in bunches here in Ohio that seems harder to find elsewhere is the Czech-made Consul.  These sold quite well here; perhaps it's not as big a mystery why as one might think, considering the very wide Czech-origin immigrant background we have here.  (They've provided us not just with great typewriters to collect, but great food as well!)

First off we see a machine labeled President - a name surely applied to give the machine better appeal here in the states - and which is dated to 1958 by the case label sometimes but not always found stuck either in the center of the lid or centered on the base under the typewriter.  This early series of Consul portables was a straight development from the Zeta portable, which probably explains the ZP prefix that the serial numbers of such machines have.  This example is serial ZP-111888. 

These segment-shifted machines were pretty well made, but these early ones just are not as tight and refined as major makes their size from their day.  Still, they're good machines and it's pretty clear that just like Japan would do with automobiles the Czech firm of Zbrojovka Brno, who made the Consul machines, was taking feedback and improving design and assembly all the time.

The machine above is of the same lineage, but is missing its front label.  It's a safe bet that the machine at one time said "Consul" on the front as we'll see on others later but there's also the chance it had some American-sounding name for sale here.  This example is serial ZP-121555, is dated to 1959 by its case label and actually came with tools and its instruction book. The machine also had its rubber carriage knob caps that serve as the carriage immobilization - one can be seen on the left of the machine in the case base.  Interestingly, neither the cover illustration nor the interior diagram in this machine's manual matches this typewriter.  We'll briefly see those below. 

Here we see two illustrations found on the instruction book for ZP-121555 from 1959.  The upper illustration is close to the machine but has two fewer character keys, while the interior diagram illustration is the more deluxe model with rounded lines.  Clearly, the product lineup was in a state of change and development. 

What's known officially as the Consul 1511 comes next in our stroll through the Consuls.

Consul 1511 serial ZP-157225 is seen here; this machine has a case label dating it to 1959.  This design has a lever-set tabulator and automatic margin setting like many Royals and others.  Compared to the previous machines, these are deluxe models and are good running machines.

Consul 1511 serial ZP-164862 (label date also 1959) is not different from the previous machine. Note that the "Consul" name label on both of these deluxe models is chromed.

This machine is a Consul Silent, with serial number ZP-185678.  There's no case label, but this machine might be from 1960.  There's nothing special or different about this machine to make it any quieter than any other; the model name is thus probably simple marketing.  What is unusual is that this is the only machine I've got in the old, square body style that has smooth enamel paint on it, which is a sort of strange beige.  The others are all crinkled. 

These models above were all found locally; the local supply also yielded a much later Consul portable, seen below.

The Consul 221.1 seen here is an excellent typewriter, and any real typist encountering one of these in any kind of good shape should buy it.  These are solid, well made and pretty fast.  This machine is serial number 0 221 115301.

The portables seen above - sometimes thought of or referred to as "upright" or "desk model" portables - were not the only portables ZB manufactured.  The company also introduced an extremely widely sold and successful line of flat portables, some of which we'll see below.

This is a Consul 1531, the earliest of the flat Consul portables which was introduced around 1959 or 1960.  This machine is serial 031133364.  The "031" on the front of the serial refers to the model.  

A similar machine stripped of its mask components reveals the simplicity of the flat Consul machines.  Key levers are mounted on four dowels that themselves are held in a 'dowel plate' at the front of the machine, and act simply as cranks pulling the intermediate link (a wire) and then the type bar itself.  Simple stampings make up the frame.  This basic construction feature was shifted over to more and more by manufacturers around the world in an attempt to get manufacturing costs down. All Silver-Seiko flat machines, all Nakajima manual machines, the Olivetti Lettera 32 and all derivatives thereof use a form of this design of key lever mounting - as do a number of others.

A variety of machines was developed from the flat 1531 including those seen here, which we'll briefly take a look at individually.  

Consul model 232, serial 5 232 291108

Consul model 232, serial 5 232 298786

Consul model 233, serial 3 233 009437

The Consul 1531 was directly replaced, it appears, by the 232, but the 233 was added later.  This machine, as we can see, had a different body, two more keys, a lever set tabulator and different keytops.  However, the mechanical concept of the machine was essentially the same. 

Above we see a relabeled Consul 233.  This machine carries the name "Baldwin," and is serial number 6 233 040454.  It's suspected but not confirmed that this machine was sold by Bundy Typewriter in Philadelphia, who was known to sell and service both the Czech Consul line and the Bulgarian-made Maritsa line.  

Concerning the flat machines and identification - it seems that the single digit out in front of the serial is a year reference; the next three digits are the model number, followed then by a serial.  This holds true for other subvariants of the flat line, not shown here.  

On the rear of the Consul 233 we can see the distinctive Zbrojovka Brno emblem - a capital Z in the center of a rifled gun barrel.  This is because the firm was originally an arms manufacturer; it got involved with making Remington machines before the Second World War under license.  However, the segment shifted big portables and flat portables seen on this page were developed independent of Remington and are unlike any of that company's designs.  In fact, it seems likely that the Czech large portable was the first segment-shifted big portable to be sold in numbers that was made in Europe.

Zbrojovka Brno sold the rights and tooling for typewriters to a company known as RVHP in 1977 at the time when nationalized industry was privatized; that company lasted making Consul machines until about 1988.  My records show that a new firm, REMAGG, relaunched Consul production in 1992 but, as might be expected, that company quit typewriters (and office equipment) in 1998.

So much for our little walk down Consul memory lane.  You used to be able to find lots of these here in Ohio - I passed on quite a number back in the old days.  I could have had double or more of these, but I left them for the next person.  Who knows where they all went ... but for sure, there are many more out there, somewhere, waiting to appear from attics, basements and barns.  Even today!

ZP-121555 and ZP-111888