Oh, what fun this proved to be! I not only learned new things about old radios, but I had the opportunity to witness and help restore a discarded beauty to her former self. Perhaps the two most important lesson I learned: Nothing is junk- unless you fail to see its potential.  And, never sell  yourself short. (Uh, excuse the pun).  Never assume you can't; the only can't that stopped anyone - not trying.     As I eluded to in this month's quote on our home page, ""If we did all the things we are capable of, we would literally astound ourselves.  - Thomas Edison    Have fun.  Astound yourself.

     Thank you for all the interest in my project. I have enjoying sharing it with everyone. If anyone has a pet project they'd like to share with Russ' Old Radio Repair- we'd love to see it.

     Till next time- when, who knows what I'll be up to....Oh, by the way- the answer to the question, can you sand, finish, and re-sand a radio too many times? Is, apparently, no. ;)

Regards,

Sue

phlog's blog


ps. If you have read this--and like it--please remember to give : https://www.facebook.com/russoldradiorepair "BIG THUMBS  UP" on Facebook. We thank you.

UPDATE 12-16-2021
We now know the the Aetna model is 252P under Walgreens. It is a 4-tube  + ballast Tuned Radio Freq receiver from 1936. Most of the radios found in this cabinet are 550s, which is a superheterodyne rather than a TRF.  The super is relatively rare. The TRF is much more unusual.

Russ

     "Wonder what it is?"

     "What?"

     "The radio. I wonder who made it. It doesn't look like any Philco or Zenith or Atwater Kent or Emerson or..."

     "I get the idea."

     "You know what though?"

     "No, what though."

     "It sort of reminds me, of the Peter Pan radio."

     "Jackson Bell."

     "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

     "I don't."

     "Oh."

     "I'm gonna find out."

     "And, how are you going to do that? We've researched it; we couldn't find anything on it- just a schematic that resembled the chassis close enough we could fix it."

     "I'm going to ask people on Facebook. I betcha somebody will know."  So, that's what I did. I asked. By gosh, somebody did know. 

     "Russell, Russell," I went running to the shop as fast as I could. Excited, elated, on cloud 9, I nearly floated over the gravel path. "I...know...what...it...is!" I could hardly get the words out. "It's a 1936," I stopped to get a gulp of air, "...a 1936 Aetna Model 550. It's really rare and..." Pride erupted from every pore on my body. A smile the size of the piano lit up my face. I felt so great sharing the information, my ego could have inflated a hot air balloon.

     I waited. Russell took a look at the website that revealed--what I believed to be the key to solving the quandary--what radio we had. He looked carefully at the cabinet. "See! See! I told you!" He said nothing. He continued looking at the photos. I waited for his approval; for his confirmation that this fledging radio repair person had this one nailed.

     "That is not that radio."

     I felt my happiness balloon burst suddenly, as if poked by a sharp pin. "What!? How can you say that this isn't this radio?" I couldn't believe it. He must be able to see it, he's got his glasses on, I thought. "How can you say this," I pointed at the radio, "isn't that?" I motioned back to the website. Incredulous couldn't begin to express my dismay.

     "Simple." My mouth--and spirits--dropped as he continued. "I looked at the back of the  radio on the website. The Aetna 550 has two IF transformers. It's a superheterodyne." I picked my mouth up off the floor as he continued. "Yours is a TRF." 

     "Oh."

     "It's still a nice radio. It has the same cabinet as the 550, but it is a different model."

     "Hosers?"

     "No not hosers, it was made that way."

     Thus, this concluded this installment in the radio project. What did I learn? That things are not always what they seem to be. And, if in doubt, ask Russell.

Till next time, when we answer the question- is it possible to sand, refinish, sand, and refinish,. sand....a radio too many times?

Regards,

Sue

phlog's blog


Have you ever been fooled by the apparent appearance of a radio?

     Everything seemed usual around the R BAR S. The first day of spring had arrived. The meadowlark, perched on its favorite highest branch of the huge ponderosa pine, heralded the beginning of the spring equinox in song. A pair of eager bunnies played chase. The fragrant aroma of sweet hyacinths wafted by. Harbingers of new life abounded.

     But, yet another, unexpected example of new life sprung forth. Spilling out of the shop, a fussy sounding AM radio disrupted the peaceful solitude of our tree farm. That's interesting, I thought. Russ normally preferred the sound of the acorn woodpeckers chipping away at the old oaks and the ground squirrels chirping real or imaged dangers.

     I'd stopped by the shop to say hi. As we chatted, Russ kept glancing at the source of the AM signal. Wonder why he keeps looking over there?  I decided to take a look. OH, cool!! My radio project! It worked! I was thrilled beyond belief. I felt proud as a new parent.

     Here's a brief re-cap ( ;) ) of how we (Russ) got it working.

     I proved to be one of the "hosers". When I installed one of the new yellow caps, I put it in to close to one of the pins. Then, when I installed the tube, one of the pins touched it. This caused the filament to overheat and open. (Told yah I can break anything, without trying.)

     Second problem involved the filter capacitors. There were only three legs--the one installed used a common ground. It needed four legs because the ground needed to go to two different places. (Common mistake of novice repairers.) One to the chassis, the other to the power supply negative. By tying the negatives together to the chassis- a loud hum resulted. Russ installed two separate filter capicators, taking the voltage from 28v to 141v, thus reducing the hum and improving the performance. (He found it surprising that it worked at 28v.)

    The third major problem--among various other minor difficulties-- a 1/4 watt, 100 ohm resistor in the return leg of the power supply;  this caused a voltage drop; Russ took it out. 
 A 380 ohm filter choke  already existed in the return line, Whew!

     Needless to say "my" radio would not be working without Russ' assistance. Nor, will I get a job writing technical manuals anytime soon,

     I have now began the final step- the cabinet renovation. Here I am getting down to work.

Till next time....when you find out if I can successfully complete the conversion of "my" ugly duckling into a beautiful swan.

Regards,

Sue.

phlog's blog

      After standing and looking with distain at the radio for a few minutes, we’re onto the next task- filter caps. Filter caps are not a generic item. We searched through a manual, a huge set of big green books, and the Internet, before we found the correct filter caps. Russ determined the radio had one ballast, and four tubes. More math! (YEECH.) Micro-ferrets? Sounded like some kind of itty-bitty, little critter to me. Wrong again. Russ figured we needed one @ 24 (450 volts), and one @10 (450 volts). Oh yeah, polarized.

     Got those installed; had to use the solder sucker to clean out the thrus on a couple. (See, told you I’m learning the jargon.) 

     Final and last step (phew). Install a new line cord (the thing that plugs into the wall). Russ pulled the line cord in half.

   “Are you getting frustrated with me?” He didn’t answer, he merely proceeded.

    “One end goes to the on/off switch, the other to the ballast. Only on an AC/DC radio.”

      I (for real) put the tubes back in, and the tube shields back on. The moment of truth had arrived.  We were ready to plug it in. “Is this the point we could get electrocuted?”

     “Not really. It’s safe. Because if it were really messed up, it’ll blow the circuit breaker.” 

     Now he tells me. 

     He pushes the plug into the outlet. FLASH. “Hosed.” That was it.  Just goes to prove- 
 I don’t have to touch anything to break it; I can just look at it.

     Till next time…when we (Russ) tries to figure out what went wrong. Can we get it working? Find out next time. Till then...


Regards,

Sue
Phlog’s blog

     "I like it."

     "But Susie, it's just a piece of junk."

     "It's not a piece of junk, it's stylish and has pizazz." Here we go again. It's not at all unusual for Russ and I to not see eye-to-eye on a subject; it tended to happen more often than not. " Would you get it and fix it up for me?" I tried to sound convincing, but not pleading. This, I've learned is a difficult art to master. There is a very  fine line between the ask and the whine.

     "No."

     I didn't seem to be encountering a great deal of success. "Okay, fine. Then I'll buy it (at three dollars it seemed like a pretty  good deal to me) and I'll fix it up myself."

     Russ gave me "the look". I knew it well, I'd seen it many, many times before. Basically it asked, are you joking or crazy? In this case, neither. There is one thing that I find almost irresistible: a challenge.

      I grabbed my wallet--it would after all,  be an out-of-pocket expense for the business. With conviction, I handed over the three bucks.

     "Are you serious?"

     "Yes, I'm quite serious. I'm going to get this baby, not only working- but restore the cabinetry too, just like you would."  It might not be exactly like he'd do it,  but it would get done. How could I be so sure? Easy. I knew that once I starting working on it, Russ would be unable to resist helping me. I wouldn't do something correct, so I'd just wait for him to come over and show me how to do it.  No-brainer.

    As the day drew to a close, Russ had the radio apart, the cobwebs cleaned out, the tubes polished and the testing equipment set up for me; I tested the tubes. I'd say the project is going well. Oh, and the words of encouragement. Who were they from? None other than Ben Bailey! How about that? Gotta say, that made my day.

Till next time,

Regards,

Sue  ;)

phlog's blog

     Breadboard radios were among the first commercially produced radios. About as rudimentary as it gets; radio circuits were attached to wooden boards. Generally, the radios were plain-the most elaborate part of the early piece of electronics, might be the manufacturer's logo. Atwater Kent--one of the earliest companies to produce old radios--had an elegant, stylish emblem- but little more.  So, when I spotted this radio front on a recent trip to Idaho, I knew it had to be something special.

     I had never seen an early radio so beautifully enhanced; it dazzled with gilded roses and golden flourishes. Elegant, perhaps bordering on a bit gaudy, but I loved it!  It sat on a dusty shelf among a tangle of rejected old parts and pieces, looking like a prince in a pauper's home. Actually, It didn't even have a home; the wooden box where it once dwelled- gone.

     I hustled to find Russell, and share my treasure. I drug him back. He was not as impressed as I.          "It's not even complete," he said. He wasn't telling me anything, I didn't already know.

     "Maybe we can look around and find a cabinet. There's all kind of stuff everywhere." That much was true. We were standing in an old barn, surrounded by a lifetime of an avid radio collector's finds. His son, unfortunately, didn't share his father's passion. Everything had to go.

     Russ did find several things interesting about my beautiful find. "Interesting circuit. Only a single interstage transformer was used. The tube functions aren't in logical, functional order. Detector is on the far right in a vibration-isolated socket."

     Yeah," I agreed.

     About this time another young couple approached. "Oh, look at that radio," she swooned to her husband. Oh, no. Competition. I knew immediately she had her eyes on IT.

     Meanwhile, Russ--seemingly oblivious to the interlopers-- continued to access my find. "It's been equipped with six RCA Cunningham 201A tubes. Two have interesting historical service shop test info.  One is from Portland, OR...these shouldn't be removed.."

     "No way," I said, looking around and beginning to feel a bit of anxiety.

     "And look at this. One of the tubes has a foggy-looking silver getter- but it's not a bad tube," he said.

     "Heck no, that's not a bad tube. Let's get it. I just know we can find a box for it." I quickly swept it up into the safety of my arms, just as the young couple got within reaching distance.

     I held my treasure close to my chest as we continued to browse  through the ancient electronics. After awhile it began to get a bit heavy, but I wasn't about to put it down.

 Quite amazingly, Russ found a box for it- nearly a perfect fit. We loaded our precious finds into the truck. I locked the canopy. We settled our tab, and headed home- with just enough money left for gas.

Till next time, when I share today's excitement,

Regards,

Sue

Phlog's blog


Have you ever found an extra-special treasure that almost slipped away? Love to hear about it.

 
      If perfectionists were awarded medals, Russ would have stole the gold.

My hub's talent for fixing things is amazing. In the thirty-plus years we have been wed--I find it unbelievable that only on an extremely rare occasion have I ever been able to break something, he couldn't fix. This is outstanding for one simple reason: I can break almost anything. I don't even need to touch it, I can just look at it. Computers, toasters, microwaves, cars, boats, you name it. I can break it. No brag, just fact. With this knowledge, I'm sure you'll understand why I can recommend his work, If it's broke--if anyone can fix it--he can.

     This is particularly true in the field of electronics. He has dazzled me with his ability to "Breathe New Life Into Old Radios"  many times; that's what inspired our catch phrase. Rarely, does he deem any grande dame beyond hope. A bit of plastic surgery here, a rewound cap there. What sets him apart from nearly all others: He can not only fix the electronics of the old radios (every radio in the Old Radio Museum works because of his efforts); but he can renovate the cabinetry with the eye of an artist.

On this website, we have a Before and After page, It isn't a page that gets many hits, but I would highly recommend clicking on this link. (It's a slide show.)
http://www.russoldradiorepair.com/beforeafter.html
(It's noteworthy: Not only did Russ restore these old radios, he made every one work!)

So......there it is. I wanted everyone to know what an excellent job Russ does. (He wouldn't tell you; he's too shy.) But, I'm not! 

Hope you'll think of Russ' Old Radio Repair the next time you need/or want an old radio repaired, restored or perhaps would like to purchase one. There.

Till next time,

Regards (with a wink),

Best,

Sue
phlog's blog

ps. Too funny, When Russ discovered I blogged about him--told you he was shy-- he came up with an idea for a blog. Isn't that something? Soon to follow, I'll be blogging about an American Beauty--it truly is. Also, something made my day today.. more about that later.    Best, Sue

      Every time I walked by them, I felt bad. Had it been two years, maybe  three, that I'd dug up the irises; decided they were root-rotted, then tossed them onto the burn pile? At least that long. I recall my surprise the following spring when healthy green, blade-shaped stems sprung up from the soot and ashes. 
     The garden heap exists on a part of our tree farm far from any landscaping efforts. There were no well-groomed lawns or pampered perennials- only huge, old neglected oaks- surrounded by many years of shed leaves; and buckbrush starts  attempting to trump our land clearing efforts. It wasn't a place I went to- unless I wanted to discard the unwanted. 
      One fall, after digging the irises to divide them, I'd decided some of the rhizomes didn't look good,. They looked old- not worthy anymore. Perhaps they're infected with iris borers, I thought. I made the trek to the discard stack. Once there, I had given the rejected irises an grand heave-ho.

     How could the irises have survived the fires?  I'd  tucked the question in the back of my mind and there it stayed- until yesterday.

     Yesterday--although it rained heavily--I found myself toiling away at a newly conceived landscape project; it's purpose to enhance the entrance to the Old Radio Museum. (The Model A Club had scheduled a visit; I wanted to spiffy the grounds.) I had planted a few hardy primroses and heavenly-scented hyachinths, but the area still looked sparse. As I stood there, drenched in rain and knee-high in mud, I accessed the situation. I find gardening, like other outdoor activities, inspiring.  The answer--like the first daffodil up in the spring--came to me almost immediately. I knew what I needed to do.
     I grabbed the mud-encrusted shovel, and slogged through the wet ground to the burn pile. I dug around the dozen or so proud survivors, then extracted them from the fine black powder, careful not to injure their roots. The rhizomes appeared to be healthy; the pale roots exceeded a foot in length. 
     After planting the irises under the oaks, by the primroses and hyathcinths, I felt much better. I knew they belonged there. They had lived a long time and survived difficult circumstances; they deserved a good home. I picked up the barely recognizable trowel, shovel, black plastic plant pots, and threw them in the wheelbarrow.      
     When I looked up, as I lifted the flat-tired, conveyance's handles,  I saw the Old Radio Museum. I  knew why the antique pieces of electronics mattered--they, like the irises-- had earned, a special place in history. If not for their longevity, for their survival.

Has a revelation, such as this one, ever occurred to you? Love to hear about it.
Till next time.

 Regards,

Sue, phlog's blog