Smokin’ Ball Bearing Action: L.C. Smith No. 8

Since I got back from a recent family vacation, I have been alternating working on the 1922 L.C. Smith No. 8 and the Century 10. I have been switching back and forth. When I run out of ideas on one, I move to the other.

Ball Bearings at All Frictional Points!

When I first brought the L.C. Smith home, there were several immobile keys – the basket was dusty, rusty and gummed-up. And there was a circa 1920 cigar cutter jammed between the universal bar and the line lock bail.

After cleaning with denatured alcohol, the typewriter began to type and type beautifully. I happily typed out a long letter and it loosened more and more with each printed line. It has a light, springy touch which I assume is due to the ball bearings in the typebars. It is a joy to type on. Robert Messenger has a great post on his L.C. Smith 8 typewriter that includes images of early advertisements which extol the virtues of the L.C. Smith’s “ball-bearings at all frictional points”. If I were a decent typist, I could go smokin’ fast on this one.

My L.C. Smith’s most major problem is rust, especially underneath the machine. I would love to dunk her in an Evapo-Rust bath, but unfortunately Evapo-Rust is not friendly to paint – it softens up the paint quite a bit. It also leaves a messy, sticky sort of residue. I use it only for parts that I can remove, soak, and polish up afterwards.

So here is all the fun I had with the L.C. Smith:

Shift lock not holding

Could it be that the Enormous Grotesque Foot is interfering with the motion of the shift lock? Why, yes. I removed the foot and the shift lock was able to move.

The machine needed three feet, and I cut some really classy looking feet out of cork and colored them with black Sharpie.

Original foot on left. Cork replacement foot being carved into shape.

Original foot on left. On right: cork replacement foot being carved into shape. Covered in Sharpie.

Thanks for the cork replacement foot idea, JustAnotherGuy.

Left carriage release not working

I compared right and left carriage release mechanisms and determined that a lever wasn’t in the right spot.

Wrong.

Right.

I loosened a screw, moved the lever to the correct spot, re-tightened the screw, and all was well.

Dirty platen

Yes, it was FILTHY. I typed a letter to a fellow typospherian and there was debris all over the page.

It is very easy to remove the platen from an LC Smith No. 8. It it held in place with a screw at each end in a knobbed plate and then pops right out. So easy – I wish they were all like this.

The platen is nice and soft and cleaned up beautifully with a little Soft Scrub. From the Craigslist pictures, I thought there were rips in the platen, but it was just crusts of rust.

Missing tab connectors

Functional tabs are little low on my list of priorities, but the missing tab linkages and sunken keys bugged me.

Missing tab linkage

Resulting in sunken tab keys

I cut some thin pieces of metal to size to temporarily replace the missing connectors. I need more rigid metal if I want to use the tabs, but these work for keeping the sunken keys up.

New tab connectors made from thin metal

Tab keys sunken no more

Outstanding Issues:

Malfunctioning line lock

This is still an issue I haven’t been able to resolve. I get to the end of a line and the typewriter allows me to continue typing, piling letters on top of letters at the end of the line. The line lock should engage at the end of the line, but doesn’t. The line lock bail is rusted into position and does not move at all. I am getting some Liquid Wrench today to see if I can free it.

Missing tab stops

The tab stops are nowhere to be seen (and I didn’t see them under the universal bar with the cigar cutter). I went to internet and asked about it. I am not the first person to run into this problem.

I love Knife141’s posts at Instructables: this guy Gets It Done. I have run across his very informative posts before:

Knife141 has a post called, “Making tab stops for an LC Smith Typewriter”. I have bookmarked this page so that if ever I get ambitious, I will make those tab stops.

The vertical alignment of the capital letters is a bit high

This typewriter is basket shift. The capital letters are printing a little high:

Thanks to Knife141, I believe that I need to make an adjustment to the nuts directly under the segment to bring it to the right height with shifting. I just don’t have the right size ~~crescent~~ open end wrenches, but Good Neighbor Brian has offered the use of his set. First off though, I need to get some Liquid Wrench because the nuts are very rusty.

Cleaning, touch up and waxing

I cleaned the exterior of the typewriter with soap/water and a little Soft Scrub. I was very careful around the decals – cleaning all around them.

I touched up the bare metal spots with a very thin layer of Testor’s black paint pen that I rubbed on. Sharpie was not a good match, but the paint pen was very close. On future projects, I’d like to experiment with India Ink (Encre de Chine) which was suggested by RobertG as it is less permanent and is an almost perfect match.

I bought some Renaissance wax polish and shined up the typewriter. I avoided the decals as I was worried that I might rub them off. I don’t know if this is a legitimate worry with the Renaissance wax, but I didn’t want to take the chance. I love those insane horsies so much.

1922 L.C. Smith No. 8

Serial number: 460128-8

: Cleaned up nicely

: Typebars still corroded looking

: Red and black!

: Replacement feet made with wine corks

: Squidward carriage return tentacle

: Horsies a-stompin’

: Missing tab stops

: Cigar cutter found in typewriter

: Serial number behind back space key

I’ve attached the cigar cutter with a ribbon to the typewriter for easy access. I believe that the “best practices” use of this machine involves cigar smoking, so I lit up a stogie and enjoyed an afternoon of typing en plein air.

The Sorta-Portable Century 10 Typewriter

A recent family vacation meant that I was parted from my typewriters for two weeks. I missed them a lot and thought about them every day.

I happily dove back into it upon my return. I alternate working on the L.C. Smith 8 and the Century 10. I’ll get stuck on one machine and move over to the other and switch back and forth.

I initially cleaned the Century 10 with a damp rag to get the dust off, and it immediately looked much better. It is such a petite little beast – a cute 17 lb package. Although it feels like it has a cast iron frame, it may actually be made of pressed steel like its cousin the Remington Junior.

The old grease formed a protective skin over the entire machine, shielding it from rust – a happy situation. In my limited experience, I’ve found solidified grease and heavy grime are much easier to deal with than rust and corrosion.

The sunken shift key

When the typewriter arrived, I noticed the shift key was sunken and nonfunctional. I followed the connection up and found a loose lever but I couldn’t figure out what it was supposed to attach to. I went to Typewriter Database and studied the Century 10 there and noted that the connector should be positioned vertically straight up and down. With this information, I found the spot to re-attach and all was well – the shift key works now. I love TWDB for the wealth of information in its images.

Shifting is old-timey high tech: a three bank keyboard with segment shift. The basket shifts down for uppercase letters and up for figures. It actually feels very light and snappy when typing and I can maintain a good pace. I can type a lot faster on the Century 10 than on my Oliver (I know that’s not saying much).

Loose spring

There was a loose spring directly underneath the machine – I re-attached it to a likely hook. I believe the spring helps the ribbon vibrator return to a resting position while typing.

Ribbon Spool Mysteries

Tolstoy once said “All happy ribbon feed mechanisms are alike; each unhappy ribbon feed mechanism is unhappy in its own way” or something along those lines. Since I gravitate toward the junkier end of the spectrum in my typewriter collecting, I have run into a fair number of unhappy ribbon feed mechanisms. In each case, I will eventually figure it out and think to myself, “Finally. Now I understand ribbon feed mechanisms!” Unfortunately, that’s never the final word. Every feed mechanism that I have had to deal with is different from the last.

I removed the old dried ribbon from the weirdly tilted ribbon spools – and then noticed the spools weren’t rotating properly. The ribbon feed direction is controlled by a switch on the left base of the machine. Once switched, the ribbon spool would rotate a few turns and then the ribbon driving gear would work its way out of the ribbon spool shaft pinion and all would stop.

There isn’t a whole lot of documentation on Old Weirdy. As a not-very-popular and briefly manufactured machine (1919-1924), it came and went and took its user, parts and repair manuals with it. Its closest cousin, the Remington Junior, has a rear-mounted ribbon spool system set up. I used a Remington Standard Model 12 diagram from the D. E. Fox Typewriter Repair Manual, 1950, TWDB Documents Library for reference as its ribbon feed is quite similar to the Century 10’s.

I had problems just getting the spools off the machine. I removed the top and front plates to get a better look.

You can see the LC Smith 8 lurking below the workbench, waiting its turn.

There is a metal piece in the center of the spool shaft called a Snap Catch that needs to be tilted to the side of the shaft to remove the ribbon spools.

Snap catch

Once off I noticed that the right and left spooling mechanisms were different. The right spool is marked “Right” and the left spool is marked “Removable”.* There is a drop weight on each spool shaft which is part of the feed reverse system. The drop weight flops freely on the right and is firmly attached on the left.

Right side, floppy metal drop weight

left side drop weight is firmly held in place.

Remington Standard Model 12, D.E. Fox Typewriter Repair Manual, 1950, page 112. TWDB Documents Library. I found this diagram of the Remington spool system very similar to the Century 10 mechanism.

Figure II in the diagram above shows how the ribbon reverse is triggered once the ribbon fills the left spool and runs out on the right causing the weight to drop.

I found was that if I manually held the floppy weight on the right, the ribbon spools rotate properly. I put a temporary bread tie to hold the floppy weight for testing and found that the ribbon feed works great. I *think* I understand this system now. Once a ribbon is on the machine, it will hold the drop weight against the core of the spool and allow for proper feed.

I am glad that I found the Remington 12 diagram in D.E. Fox. I love TWDB for the wealth of information in its documents archive.

Simulating a full spool with a bread tie.

*I am starting to get the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps my understanding of what is “right” and what is “left” is mistaken. My left and right spools may be reversed as the ribbon feed is still at times a little balky. I may be confused by whether I should be thinking in terms of my right and left side or the machine’s right and left side.

Noisy carriage return

Click click click click clickclickclickclickclick. Time for a Polt Silencer™? This is pretty bad, right? Not normal? I can’t see the escapement to get a feel for what’s going on without taking this thing apart more. I am hesitant to do that.

Bentley

The letter “I” had a bent typebar connector that caused it to collide with its neighbor. I can’t imagine how that would have happened except maybe a spear in the guts – but there it is.

I gently tapped from the right side with a thin pick to get the connector back into position – my smallest punch was too large for the small space. The connector popped back into position after a few gentle taps. It may have been an unorthodox way to approach the situation, but it straightened out nicely and the letter “I” and its neighbor key are now working.

All better.

Now that the Century 10 is fairly clean and I have given her a light coating of Renaissance Wax, I took some photos:

: Winding key for mainspring tension adjustment

: paper release lever head broken off

: missing the paper table *sigh*

: back feet missing

: And she types!

I regret that this Century 10 is missing the paper table with the large “Century” decal. I double checked with the eBay seller who said that the typewriter was part of building clean-out in an old part of St. Louis, MO and it did not have a paper table when they got it.

Google image searches for the American Writing Machine Co. Century 10 typewriter pull up a handful of results. What’s very curious is that one of those few hits is of a typewriter in Spain also missing its paper table. The Powerhouse Museum’s Remington Junior on Robert Messenger’s blog is also missing its paper table. Maybe these three typewriters can start a support group: Typewriters without Tables. Is there something about the way their paper tables were secured that made them so apt to go missing?

And here are a few seconds of me typing away happily on Old Weirdy:

Old Weirdy: Century 10

This new-to-me American Writing Machine Company Century 10 is an eBay impulse buy with free shipping. I had admired Scott K’s Remington J from afar and when I saw the J’s froggy-eyed cousin online, I jumped on it. Very out of character. I think that the solvents I have been recently using in typewriter clean-up have affected my self-restraint. The solvents may also be opening doors of perception that are better left closed.

1919 American Writing Machine Company Century 10
serial number: HS90097

So my petite 17 lb sorta-portable has arrived from eBay in one piece. The seller packed it beautifully. The typewriter even sort of types a little – a bit arthritic, but game.

Such an old weirdy – why are the ribbon spools tilted like the bulging eyes of Keroppi?

This is my oldest typewriter (my Oliver No. 9 is from 1921). Of note: the Century 10 Richard Polt mentions on his collection page has a serial number of HS90099 – he dates it from June of 1919 (that’s pretty specific). It sounds like my Century 10 (serial number HS90097) was two ahead of his on the assembly line on that June day in 1919.

The typewriter is missing the paper table which would have had a huge Century 10 decal, but overall she seems pretty much intact with all her weirdy parts. Fortunately there is very little rust, just a thick layer of dusty, greasy grime that has undoubtedly protected her for many years.

It may be the solvents talking, but is that a Day of the Dead sugar skull?

I think it was Stan Lee – or Voltaire – who said that with great power comes great responsibility. I feel the weight of responsibility to do my best by Old Weirdy and do no harm. I plan to clean her gently and get her running and admire her strange froggy stare.

: There were leaves inside

: Grimy, but not too rusty

: Dusty, but not too rusty

: Wind her up

: Aristocrat, Century 10, LC Smith 8

: Keys cleaned up nicely

A Belated Happy Typewriter Day: L.C. Smith No. 8

I am a little late to the Typewriter Day party, but I did religiously observe the holiday by bringing home a new typewriter (as is customary I understand). This 1922 L.C. Smith No. 8 was on Craigslist, described as “a hobby project to rebuild”. I liked the big cast-iron machine with its beautiful decals and the weird squid tentacle of a right carriage return lever. It looked pretty dusty and rusty. It apparently needed repair, but it still had a ribbon in it. I always take the presence of a ribbon as a hopeful sign. Things can’t have been that bad for that long a time if the ribbon remains. Right?

I carefully compared the Craigslist photos with other L.C. Smith 8 examples on Typewriter Database and determined that as far as I could tell, all the pieces were there except for the ribbon spool lock screws.

I drove over to look at it and was relieved on two counts. One: the seller was a very normal person and extremely nice. Two: the typewriter didn’t seem to have anything more wrong with it other than rust, dirt, and gunk. Though the carriage wasn’t moving and it really wasn’t typing, if I pulled hard to the left, the carriage moved with typing.

The seller, for his part, seemed very happy that I was going to try to fix it and clean it up.

I brought her home. The typewriter and I had drinks together out on the patio and got to know each other.

The horsey paper table decal is in good shape. The insane surrealist horse legs in this decal are The Best. Is that top horse trying to type with its hoof? Trying to stomp the typewriter?

After a long search I finally located the serial number on the inside of the right front frame behind the back space key under a thick layer of grime and determined that I had a 1922 L.C. Smith No. 8:

L.C. Smith No. 8 serial number located in front right frame area right behind the back space key

It was pretty rusty, especially underneath the machine. It may have sat in water at some point in time. One foot was missing and another foot (probably a replacement) was hideously swollen and deformed.

I dusted the typewriter first with a soft brush to loosen the debris and then blew out the insides.

I cleaned and lubed the carriage rails with PB Blaster and the typewriter’s carriage began to move on its own with typing. Everything seemed to function, albeit slowly, screechingly and rustily.

The one thing I had problems with was the ribbon carrier/vibrator – it wasn’t moving at all. I did some research on the mysterious “Ribbon Key” in the L.C. Smith No. 8 manual I found in the manuals archive of The Classic Typewriter Page.

It was in the “stencil” position and once I switched it to a regular printing position, the ribbon vibrator began to move. Whew. I was also happy to find out that the “Ribbon Key” has high and low positions for red or black printing. I love those red and black ribbons.

During the time when I was trying to figure out the ribbon vibrator problem, I poked around in back. I saw a loose piece of metal wedged under the universal bar.

Here I am pulling the piece of metal out with my dental pick

Oh no, I thought. Is it a broken piece of the ribbon vibrator mechanism? I pulled it out.

It looks like a typewriter part, but stamped on it are these words:

CLIPRITE, 37 Maiden Lane, NY USA

I did a quick Google search and found that it was an antique cigar cutter similar to this one. The image in my mind of someone smoking cigars and pounding away on this old typewriter Back in the Day gives me a chuckle. “Dammit, where’d my cigar cutter go?”

Here is 37 Maiden Lane in New York where the Cliprite company used to be headquartered:

I am going to de-rust, de-grease and clean the typewriter over the next few days. One aesthetic issue is the areas of flaking black paint.

Should I stabilize those flaking areas or remove the flaking edges of paint? Should I cover bare metal areas? Sharpie or Testor’s black paint pen?

The Foster Typewriter: Royal KHM

Typewriters may come and typewriters may go, but I’d like to keep my standing in-house collection under double digits. We’re a family of many hobbies and collections and our home is already bursting with fun stuff. I could use a barn.

Also, I’m not really into amassing a huge collection of typewriters – I’m not looking to acquire a Corona Four in every color. And I really like junkers – I like to clean and make them functional. It’s very satisfying. For the most part, once they are working, they start to lose their grip on me.

Last week I saw a very dirty, nonfunctional Royal KHM at my favorite neighborhood junk shop. I found it utterly COMPELLING:

It was really dirty – gunk inside and out and dried mud on the top cover. She wasn’t typing at all. The draw band was off and wrapped under the carriage. All the keys were frozen in time. So bad. So very bad.

The shop owner saw me staring at it longingly and told me I could have it for $25. I told her that I didn’t want to own it, I just wanted to clean it up. She told me I could take it home, clean it and bring it back if that’s what made me happy. Yes, that’s what makes me happy.

1938 Royal KHM (Kinda Hardly Moving)

I brought the typewriter home and pulled out my handy-dandy air blower thing and blew out layers of dust and cobwebs, being careful to work in a semi-enclosed area outside in case I blew out a loose part. As I examined my foster child a little more my closely, my heart sank when I realized that not only was her drawband off, but her mainspring moved very reluctantly. That’s why her intact drawband had fallen off. The drum wasn’t moving. No zip. It turned as if it were moving through dried gum and did not bounce back. I doused the mainspring drum with PB Blaster penetrating lubricant and hoped for the best.

I removed the drawband since it was tangled up under the carriage and cleaned and lubricated the rails. I was flummoxed when I got to the the top cover. It didn’t pop up like my other typewriters. I had to remove four screws to remove the top cover – one inside each spool container and one at each back corner of the cover. Rob Bowker has an excellent post on accessing the insides of a Royal KHM that I unfortunately found after all was done.

Everything under the cover was very rusty and gummy. I doused the segment, spooling mechanism, ribbon vibrator with PB Blaster and started scrubbing the typebars with a very fine Scotch-Brite pad:

I started working the keys, loosening things up and flushing the segment with denatured alcohol.

The keys looked better after just a clean with a Q-tip:

I tested the mainspring and HURRAY! It was loosening up after PB Blaster treatment and was winding and zipping with some authority. I re-attached the drawband and off we went. The carriage was a little grudging at first, but moving it back and forth repeatedly freed it to move smoothly. What a great feeling.

Hooked up and spinning again

I washed the outside case with warm soapy water first to get the worst of the mud off. I then used Scrubbing Bubbles to remove the residual grime, being very careful to avoid the decals (which were already very faded).

I rejuvenated the old, ripped ribbon with WD-40 and carefully rewound the ribbon. I put the top cover back on temporarily and tested the typing.

The type seemed a little dirty, so I scrubbed the type with denatured alcohol. I was very careful to drape the painted surfaces of the typewriter since the denatured alcohol will eat into the paint.

The margin release and the tab system use shared parts and neither system was working. From what I could see, everything was in an advanced state of gumminess. I cleaned and lubed all the moving parts of the margin release and tab system and worked them with my hands. Slowly the tabs began to work and the margin release was pulling back properly.

The Royal KHM is typing like a champ right now. No letter piling. When I first put paper in her, she had a couple lines with an erratic left margin, but that disappeared and I have typed out two full pages single-spaced without margin issues or letter piling. It makes me think that I should re-visit my Royal Aristocrat with margin issues and give her a second deep cleaning.

I felt bad about the ratty WD-40ed ribbon – it was printing OK, but it was sort of rotten and holey.

I had just ordered some ribbons from Amazon so I threw in a new red and black one. Classy!

I had some auto wax and spiffed up the outer case. Here are some glamor shots I took before I returned her to the junk shop:

: Hey Baby

: Hey Foxy

: Hubba hubba

: Hey Lady

: Can I talk to you?

: What’s your number?

Moe at the junk shop was thrilled to see the transformed KHM. I took a page from TypetheClouds’ book and sent the Royal KHM back out into the world with care and feeding instructions. In the future, Moe will gladly let me take junker typewriters home for clean up.

I was reluctant to let this Royal KHM go. She went from congealed paralysis to being my fastest, snappiest and springiest typer. What a bright, happy typewriter! I have read about the Royal’s quick and snappy touch. It lives.

I think this new system of catch, clean and release may really work out for me. I get to experience new and exciting typewriters regularly without typewriter accumulation and the world gets functional typewriters. Typewriter fostering is a win-win in my book!

High Riding Ribbons, Royal Margins and a Small Quibble

Lady Royal Aristocrat is looking a lot better after her key top reattachment surgery, and the J-B Weld Steelstik bonds are holding great after a few days of typing – I need to get some neighborhood kids to put her through her paces.

She’s looking good, but has/had a few lingering issues.

Sticky Ribbon Vibrator

First off: I couldn’t see a thing as I typed because my ribbon carrier wasn’t returning to its lowest position with each stroke. The ribbon hid all the typed text.

What did I just type?

My online research indicated that the sticky ribbon vibrator problem was probably due to either dirt or binding or both.

I cleaned the ribbon vibrator carefully, scrubbing with denatured alcohol and using a penetrating lubricant (PB Blaster). Things looked cleaner and the ribbon guide began to flicker and move up and down as I typed. Upper case typing wasn’t a problem because the entire basket moved down with shifting, but lower case typing was still obscured by the high riding ribbon.

I read that gentle bending of the ribbon guide could free it so it would move smoothly up and down, but what to bend and which way to bend it?

Let’s Go to TWDB

Because I am a member of Typewriter Database, I can access its documents library. I get a lot out of the manuals. Knowing the name and function of parts helps me a lot; otherwise, I’m just staring at a lot of small, mysterious metal pieces.

One interesting manual that I seem to have passed over in the past is called D. E. Fox Typewriter Repair Manual, 1950. Perhaps I had foolishly assumed that it was a repair manual for Fox typewriters. No – it isn’t. It covers standard and portable Underwood, Remington, LC Smith, Smith-Corona and Royal typewriters.

In the Royal portable section about the ribbon vibrator it says:

“The Ribbon Carrier (Vibrator) must operate freely. Examine the ribbon guiding wings of Ribbon Carrier (1) to make sure that they are not fitting too closely to Type Bar Guide (2)”

D. E. Fox Typewriter Repair Manual, 1950, TWDB Documents Library

image: D. E. Fox Typewriter Repair Manual, 1950; TWDB

Those “guiding wings” were fitting a little too closely to my type bar guide on my machine. Very gently pinching the ribbon carrier forks together at the top loosened the “guiding wings” grip on the type bar guide and the parts of the ribbon vibrator mechanism began to slide freely.

Perhaps at some point in its life the typewriter had take a hard hit to the top, splaying the ribbon vibrator forks open and causing the binding.

Success: the ribbon moved properly out of the way with each key stroke and I could see what I typed.

Off the Rails: Royal Margin of Error

I have heard tell of the Royal typewriters’ reputation for erratic left margin behavior, and now I get to experience the Royal “soft margin” first-hand:

It is said to be fixable.

According to a Yahoo Typewriter Group post:

“The soft left margin was easily adjustable with the margin stop screw.”

And according Typewriter Maintenance, TM 37-305, 1944:

“Margin Stop Banking Screws may be made accessible by moving carriage to the extreme right or left, whichever is necessary, disconnecting Bail Lift Screws, and swinging Margin Release Bails back out of position.”

Ok – I just need to find that easily adjustable margin stop screw. I am still on the hunt for that.

A Little Letter Piling

I’ll admit it. I am terrible typist. I am a two-fingered keyboard hunt and pecker with an inconsistent slamming flail that drives just about anybody watching or hearing me nuts. I type like a high-energy ten year-old kid set loose on a typewriter at Goodwill. You would not trust me with your fine collectible typewriters.

To the point: seven of my typewriters put up with me and my ways. Big Betty the KMC, Olive Dammit the Oliver, Corona McDraggle, Posh Spice, Camper Van Pancake the Skyriter, Mrs. Hudson the Torpedo, Marge the SG3 – they all tolerate my touch.

: Big Betty the KMC

: Olive Dammit

: Corona McDraggle

: Posh Spice

: Camper Van Pancake

: Mrs. Hudson

: Marge

: Lady Royal Aristocrat

Lady Royal Aristocrat – not so much. If I type too weird and too fast on the Aristocrat, I get letter piling. It trips, the door opens and then there’s a drunken pile of two letters who snuck in. If I type like a normal person, everything is fine. However, as soon as I show a little “flare”, I will get the occasional letter piling. None of my other typewriters do this to me. Is this yet another Royal hallmark or something unique to my machine?

It doesn’t bother me too much – it’s a smallish quibble. I still love Lady Royal Aristocrat.

New Key Tops for a Key Chopped Typewriter

It was a crafting weekend here at home. We had a paper maché project going and a typewriter repair in progress on the dining room table.

There were 10 key tops that had been chopped from Lady Royal Aristocrat that I needed to re-key before I developed tetanus from hitting the broken key levers.

I first straightened out the levers which were very twisted from their violent chopping:

GAH! Bent and bad.

Better and a little straighter after using needle nose pliers

I picked these faux typewriter keys up at Joann Fabric:

I clipped off the little loop on the faux key and sanded the edge smooth.

They were almost a perfect match in size.

I had some J-B Weld SteekStik metal epoxy putty around the house.

I sanded the broken key levers and the backs of the faux keys so that they’d have “grip”.

I cut off a little of the putty and kneaded it until it was a soft ball of a uniform shade of gray. You have to work fast and use a little at a time because this stuff sets in five minutes and is sandable in an hour. It dries rock hard. I did one key at a time.

Worked great! Here are the first three:

The broken stems on the right side of the typewriter were broken off shorter than those on the left side so I had to build up the stems in a first step. They were a bit lumpy so I had to sand them a little.

I added the faux key tops in a second step.

I printed out some key labels that I made in Photoshop, trying my best to replicate the font and coloring of the Royal’s keys.

I covered the printed sheets with clear laminate, cut out the individual keys and glued them to the key tops – pretty close!

It’s not perfect – some of the stems are a little lumpy and the font color is just slightly too yellow, but it’s close. If it starts to bother me, I’ll pull out the dremel and sand the lumpiness and replace the letters with a new label.

Many, many thanks to the clever Mr. E at Typewriter Talk who found these craft keys and used them to re-key his chopped typewriter. His project inspired mine.

She is such a pretty little thing. I couldn’t help but notice how similar my 1939 Royal Aristocrat and 1957 Torpedo 18a are in terms of size and shape though they were manufactured almost 20 years apart on different continents. I think I need to get an Olympia SM3 so I can do more extensive comparisons 🙂

Lady Lazarus the Royal Aristocrat

Lady Royal Aristocrat (a redundant name, no?) is looking and feeling so much better after a few days here at the spa enjoying typebar yoga, methylated spirits cleanses, Scrubbing Bubble massages…

This typewriter was really dirty when I got her last week.

Grody

First things first, I took out my handy hand-held air blower thing and blew out the inside of the machine.

I always do this outside against a wall corner so that if there is something loose that blows out, it will hit the wall and not get lost.

A good five minute blast treatment took care of years of grimy dust, cat fur and cobwebs.

I thought the Royal Aristocrat was a charcoal gray – but lo and behold after a some work with Scrubbing Bubbles she is a beautiful crinkle paint black.

Soaking up the sun

I doctored the guts with PB Blaster and let her sit outside overnight since the keys and ribbon vibrator were very gummy and sticky. The next morning I flushed everything out with denatured alcohol and scrubbed the segment with a paint brush and tooth brush (being careful not to get the denatured alcohol on the paint). Brown and black gunk dripped from the insides.

I fixed the broken draw cord using the inspired Robert Messenger wooden skewer tool. Since my typewriter tastes run to the junkier end of the spectrum, four out of my eight typewriters have needed a carriage draw band / draw string / draw cord repair: Remington Rand KMC, Oliver No. 9, Corona Four and now this Royal Aristocrat

I have close to 400 yards of of 80 lb fishing line – it’s heavy enough to land a marlin – or to replace a broken draw string on a typewriter. I cut a length of about 13 inches for my new draw cord and made a loop at one end which I hooked onto a likely projection under the right side of the carriage.

I hooked my draw string onto a projection on the right side under the carriage

I tied a knot at the other end and inserted it into the slit at the end of my wooden skewer. I fed the string from right to left under the carriage using the wooden skewer as a guide and emerged on the left side of the carriage with my knotted end.

I wound the mainspring 3.5 times and inserted the knot into the mainspring. I got a set of three dental-like tools at the hardware store for about $6.00. This pointy one helped me push the knot into the mainspring while I held tension on the mainspring with my pinkie.

With a new draw string, this 1939 typewriter is typing great. Enjoy six seconds of looping fun while I try to avoid those sharp key levers. Ouchie!

Now onto those missing key tops.

A Lady in Peril Rescued: Royal Aristocrat

I was out and about today and stopped in at a few town thrift stores looking for brown plastic cases for Operation: SCM Datecode. I didn’t find any, but I did run across this lovely but very dirty Royal Aristocrat.

My collection is a little Smith-Corona / Corona heavy and I have been thinking I should branch out and see what all the fuss is about other typewriter brands: the Royals and the Underwoods etc.

This Royal was filthy. Not a problem – I like to clean things up. The draw cord was broken. I can fix that (probably).

Uh oh.

What is wrong with people? You know, we are living in a SOCIETY.

I left the shop feeling irritated not just at the key-chopping but at the sheer half-assedness of the evil doing. It appears that the chopper took a few keys, got bored and quit. And they took the Shift Freedom keys. So mean.

I thought about the typewriter all day. Its ultimate fate would probably be to have the remaining keys clipped off and the body dumped in a scrap heap. NO. IT SHALL NOT BE. Not while I have $30 in my pocket!

I went back and took the Royal Aristocrat into protective custody.

1939 Royal Aristocrat
S/N B-889364

: A damsel in distress

: Could use a bath

: Blug

: Ugh

: Grody

: S/N under carriage on left

: A lady of gentle birth

: Not all the keys chopped

: Broken draw cord

About those missing key tops: a clever typospherian at Typewriter Talk salvaged a key-chopped typewriter with faux craft keys. I swung by my Joann Fabrics and picked up similar items for $5.00:

I’ll clip off the loops on the faux keys, print out Royal Aristocrat style letters and attach the faux keys to the broken stems…somehow.

Last thing: did I mention that she is really dirty? I had problems finding the serial number because it was under a layer of filth. Anyhow, while I was turning her over trying to find the serial number, a piece of metal fell out. Oh lordie – where does that go? Fortunately, it wasn’t a typewriter part, but an old watch face that fell out. What other secrets do you hold, Aristocrat?

Not a part of the typewriter. Whew.

M-m-m-my Corona: Draw String on the Loose and I Love TWDB

My Corona 4 seemed like a hopeless case. I confess there was a weak moment when I was tempted to put her in a box and donate her to Words Are Winged – that fellow has a knack for dismantling, reassembling and documenting old typewriters.

Rusty, grimy, and jammed, the Corona 4 still had a winning personality and bedraggled charm, so I continued to work on her.

When I first got the Corona 4, the carriage was frozen in place – it did not move an inch. I doused it in PB Blaster and let it sit overnight. The next day, my husband manhandled the Corona, exerting enough force to move the carriage. It loosened up and the carriage began to slide grudgingly along its rails.

The Corona 4 had a scary whistling carriage screech that put the Edison talking doll to shame.

As you can see, I had a very sticky carriage and hitting the shift key left the carriage hanging in the air – I had to push the carriage down manually after I hit the shift key.

After I could move the carriage, I found the draw cord all tangled up under the carriage. It must have come off at some point in life and the carriage rusted into place.

When I was finally able to move the carriage back and forth the draw cord with its hook slipped down to the pulley area.

In a maneuver I call the Reverse Munk, I re-attached the carriage draw string.

I first wound the draw string tight on the mainspring drum using the ratchet pawl to maintain tension.

I hooked the draw string temporarily onto the side of the carriage rail.

I then made a lasso out of fishing line and fed it with a bamboo skewer which I ran under the carriage from right to left to retrieve the draw cord.

I got my lasso to the left end of the carriage where the draw cord was hooked temporarily on the side of the machine so it wouldn’t slip down the hole near the pulley.

I attached the draw cord hook to my fishing line lasso and pulled it under the carriage from left to right and re-attached it to a likely screw under the carriage on the right side.

Though the draw string was re-attached with good tension, the carriage failed to move freely. Hmm. The carriage advanced with typing or hitting the space bar if I pulled HARD to the left as I typed. Based on this, I gathered that the escapement was OK, but perhaps something was rusty or gummy or…?

Typewriter Database to the Rescue

There was something strange about the ribbon vibrator – it was in a permanent “up” position and would not go down. I went to Typewriter Database (TWDB) and compared my Corona’s ribbon vibrator position to all the Corona Fours at TWDB. Yes, something was very fishy. My ribbon vibrator did not look like other ribbon vibrators. So off came the ruler thing and the ribbon vibrator.

The ribbon vibrator itself was fine – the two pieces of it slid easily together.

However, a projection from the escapement assembly that moves the vibrator up and down was locked in place:

I flipped the machine over and examined the escapement mechanism. I opened up TWDB again and searched for a Corona 4 listing in the archive that included an under machine photo. I found one and noted that there were subtle differences between my 1930 Corona 4 and the 1931 Corona 4 on TWDB.

My Corona seemed to have bent and out-of-position parts – right around the escapement rocker bracket assembly and connected pieces (thank you, TWDB for the Corona parts manual).

This piece – escapement rocker bracket assembly – was all bent to hell:

illustration from Smith-Corona Parts Book, TWDB

Carefully studying the TWDB Corona and using my best judgement and some lucky intuition, I bent part of the escapement rocker bracket assembly, trying to make my typewriter look like the Corona 4 at TWDB.

Long story short: that did it. Here she is, partially disassembled and no ribbon but gamely putting up with my two-fingered typing.

I would still like to get close up pictures of the underbelly of a functional circa 1930 Corona 4 since my fix was mostly just lucky guesswork. I have a request for photos at Typewriter Talk if you have a functional Corona 4 and have a moment to take some detail pictures of the underside of your Corona 4 typewriter.

There is work still to be done:

sort out the ribbon feed mechanism
fix the backspace
glue the space bar
make new key lever links for missing ones
address peeling paint
make a donation to TWDB

UPDATE: Rev. Munk kindly posted under machine photos of his Corona 4 (“El Diablo”) at TWDB. It looks like I was lucky and popped things back into the right place. I will be using Rev. Munk’s photos again as I try to unravel my problematic back space mystery.

Straightening Bent Typebars on the Oliver No. 9

I have been experimenting with Vine typewriter videos. Vine is a short-form video sharing service similar to YouTube, but the videos are a maximum of six seconds long. It’s a great format for me since I tend to be long-winded and it compels me To. Cut. To. The. Chase.

Continue reading →

Large Marge: 1965 Olympia SG3

I talked the junk shop owner down the street into taking $20 for the Olympia SG3, so I brought Large Marge home. She immediately started doing laundry and ironing.

Other typospherians have waxed rhapsodic over the qualities of the Olympia SG3, but I can’t say anything intelligent about the touch or action or whatever since my experience with typewriters is pretty much limited to the last three months of my life, so I will just say this: the Olympia SG3 types real good. I love her. She stays. She is GINORMOUS.

Despite the Olympia SG3’s matronly appearance, the lady is a tiger. She slips out of her clothing quite readily.

Olympia (after Manet):

La Maja Vestida y La Maja Desnuda (after Goya):

You’re welcome, Art History majors!

Since the SG3 is so large, I need to find a dedicated space for her. My son generously offered a spot in his room. He was very enthusiastic about my purchase, especially when he found out that the Olympia SG3 was used by Philip K. Dick and Elmore Leonard.

Here are some envy-inducing characteristics of my Olympia SG3 (which is called a SG 3L or SG 3 de luxe in this brochure because she has such cool features):

weighs 38 lbs!
made in “Western Germany”!
has a PAPER INJECTOR!!
has a DOUBLE SPACING KEY!!
has cool special characters!
missing her plastic paper support 😦

: Marge

: double spacing and fun characters

: Paper injector with a bunch of settings

: Sweet profile

: Super typing

: Made in Western Germany

: Neked

: Serial number on right under carriage

Inmates of the Junk Shop: Typewriters Doing Time

Here’s a look at residents in detention in my neighborhood junk shops near San Francisco. Unfortunately, I did not post bail on any of these beauties. Most of the prices were beyond my current cheap thrills limit. I lucked out with my first six typewriters – they were all free to very affordable.

I had some free time last week, so I decided to go typewriter sightseeing. There were no typewriters at either Goodwill or St. Vincent de Paul so I headed over to the town junk / antique stores. First stop: an antique shop with three typewriters:

196x Underwood 21
$85.00

There was a huge piece of luggage that looked like it had a typewriter in it. I popped the case to check it out.

Oooh! Italian!

It sort of worked. I was unable to appreciate the fine Olivetti engineering since the keys were so gummy I had to manually return them to the basket with each stroke. The price was a non-starter for me and it was really HUGE for a portable. This Underwood 21 is about as portable as my KMC – it would be better with wheels.

193X Remington 5
$95.00 – $125.00 (two price tags)

Neat looking typewriter with swell curves. Seemed to work (ribbon dried out so I couldn’t get a type sample), but there was something funky about the margins which I couldn’t figure out and the keys were pretty sticky. I do love the red “Self Starter” button:

1948 Smith-Corona Silent
Price unknown
S/N 4S204446

I love the looks of these, but this one was in terrible, terrible shape. Looks like someone must have sat on the keyboard as I could see the imprint of buttocks on the sunken keys. Carriage string snapped. Bent and gummed up keys. I didn’t ask the price on this S-C Silent. I feel like I should go back and ask if only to put it in protective custody. When researching the Floating Shift mechanism online, I ran into a website where someone had made jewelry out of a Floating Shift key. 😦

Next stop – thrift shop down a few blocks away.

195X Smith-Corona Silent Super
$165.00

In great shape and typed well. It had a San Jose business sticker:

193X Underwood Universal
$229.00

Gorgeous machine in fine typing shape – with those nifty Underwood spool covers.

Now onto one of my walk-to neighborhood junk shops:

1970 Brother Echelon 89
S/N L0963629
$45

This one triggers some heavy 70s nostalgia in me with that simulated wood grain trim – it’s the Country Squire of typewriters. It typed fine, but I wasn’t thrilled with the sound and feel. I do love those big chunky keys though. And the wood grain trim. Ah, the 70s!

And lastly to my favorite walk-to neighborhood store. This is where I got my Corona Four, Skyriter and Torpedo. The owner is very flexible about pricing.

I could bring a lot of things home from this place if I had less restraint.

Here is a Burroughs cousin for $50:

I spotted this bevy of beauties:

Well, helloo ladies!

They were on a shelf almost out of reach.

196X Smith-Corona Electra 120
S/N 6LE2 -120200
$45

I am generally not an electric typewriter person though I have bitter-sweet memories of the Selectrics of my youth. This Electra 120 is on the fugly side, but she won me over once I plugged her in – so much fun to play with.

1965 Olympia SG3
S/N: 7-1349732
Price: $30

This Olympia is a honey. Large Marge. I am worried that I might bring her home at some point. I kind of love everything about her except I couldn’t get the right margin to work. And she is HUGE – a mountain of a typewriter. I might be able to talk the junk store owner into a price reduction. I am enamored of the double spacing key.

And she’s just filthy dirty. I could spend so many happy hours cleaning up this Olympia.

196X Royal FP
No price

I couldn’t test this one as the ribbon was tangled, I couldn’t pop the lid and the left Magic Margin wouldn’t hold. Another day perhaps.

Update: I stopped in an antique store in next town over yesterday and saw this:

195x Royal Quiet De Luxe
Price: $375.00

Wow – knock out color and very clean. The price is…more than I am budgeting for typewriters right now. The font is beautiful:

That’s all for my sightseeing – I added the Brother Echelon 89 and the Smith-Corona Electra 120 to the Typewriter Database as the database didn’t yet have photo examples of these fine machines.

Note: this post is partly inspired by Richard Polt’s Typewriter Safaris – they are very entertaining reads:

The Typewriter Revolution: Photo safari
The Typewriter Revolution: Sunday’s safari
The Typewriter Revolution: January’s safari and guessing game

A Renewed Ribbon for the Taupe Pancake: Skyriter

My tough little pancake – the Skyriter – had a pretty dried out ribbon when I got her.

I have read that you can sometimes rejuvenate old dried-up typewriter ribbons with WD-40. I could save $7.99 and a trip to the office supply store for this:

This 1/2″ black ribbon is compatible with Okidata…and others

Since I am both cheap and impatient (two qualities that have made me the success I am today), I thought I’d try it.

First I had to find a box to work in. I found a box outside but first I had to evict two Wubble-Bubbles, Charles and Dope.

Scat, you two.

I then removed the ribbon from the machine, unspooled it and put it in the box. Then I sprayed the whole tangled mess with WD-40:

I waited about 30 minutes, then wound all the ribbon onto one of the spools very tightly. I then squirted WD-40 onto the tightly wound spool. That might have been over-kill.

I then waited about an hour and put the ribbon spool back on the machine and hooked things back up. The first test was very squishy and gray. I had used a lot of WD-40 on the ribbon. I let the ribbon sit longer and cleaned the type in the meantime with denatured alcohol since it was a little gunky.

After about an hour, the typed page looked better. It’s a readable charcoal color, but definitely not a true black like a new ribbon would produce.

I’ll keep the WD-40ed ribbon for the time being. It works.

UPDATE: 2 weeks later: WD-40ed ribbon still typing fine – just fine – not black, but fine.

Another interesting tidbit related to ribbon spools: when I received my Oliver in the mail last month from the eBay seller, there was a mysterious piece of metal rattling around in the box. I put it in a baggie, labeled it “Oliver Mystery Piece”, set it aside, and hoped it wasn’t important.

A couples weeks ago, I brought home my Skyriter and I was cleaning and looking for the serial number when I found an almost identical mysterious piece of metal rattling around loose inside the Skyriter’s case.

It was almost the same as the Oliver’s Mystery Piece except smaller in size.

A typewriter repair specialist on the Typewriter Talk forum identified these as ribbon spool clips that secure the ribbon to the core of the typewriter spool.

I used my newly-identified spool clip to secure my Skyriter ribbon when I replaced the WD-40ed ribbon spool.

The Wayward Type Slug and the Good Neighbor

This is a parable for our times.

We live next door to Brian and his family. They have been our neighbors for almost 13 years. Brian is an incredibly decent man and good neighbor. We love Brian.

Brian is also a hobbyist knife maker. As an aspiring typewriter fixer, I know this is a good person to know as I frequently find myself in metal-related dilemmas.

For his own pleasure, Brian makes beautiful knives that look like this:

So when I purchased a Skyriter with a bent type slug, I knew just who to see.

I had tested the typewriter in the junk store before I bought it and noted that the letter B/b was not printing. When I popped the hood, I saw the problem: the B/b type slug was tilted forward.

When compared to its neighbor slug, it was very noticeably out of alignment:

I took the Skyriter home after negotiating a lower price. I carefully tried to bend the slug back into position using needle nose pliers, but it wasn’t budging for me.

So I went over to Brian’s. He has the best workshop with lots of fun equipment.

Please note: this is a human interest post – not an instructional post. I am only documenting what happened. What follows is an intense scene of type slug peril, so if you don’t have the stomach for that, stop reading right now.

We supported the typebar right under the slug so that the typebar didn’t get bent. We used a Kant Twist mini clamp to support the typebar.

The Kant Twist is pretty cool. It has flat and grooved faces.

Much to my alarm, Brian placed a block behind the clamp and pulled out a punch and mallet.

Using the punch positioned between the B and the b on the slug, he tapped gently and precisely with the mallet and the slug moved into proper position.

Kids, do not try this at home unless you live next door to Brian.

Brian was prepared to pull out a mini blow torch to soften the solder that holds the slug onto the typebar, but there was no need.

After the initial straightening, the slug was listing a little to the side. Brian pulled out an small 4″ wrench with flat, parallel gripping surfaces. It’s an antique he picked up at a garage sale. I covet it.

I want.

He put the typebar and slug into the wrench, tightened it and the slug pulled up straight.

Brian has a large collection of clamps and vises:

He offered me a teeny Kant Twist and a vise grip clamp that he cleaned up for me. They will be great for straightening bent pieces of typewriters.

Brian, put on your eye protection!

I came away with a straightened B/b type slug and two new tools for fixing typewriters. Thanks, Brian!

The B/b is still slightly misaligned, but the screwiness gives the typed page some character and is a reminder of the machine’s history. In the future, I will call any type slug with an eccentric alignment a “Brian B” in honor of my good neighbor, Brian.

UPDATE: Brian stopped by the next morning. Our dining room table looked like Machine General Hospital that day.

Brian had a great time helping me straighten out the type slug yesterday and felt I needed some modified pliers for use while working on typewriters. Using a pair of calipers, he determined that all my Coronas and Smith Coronas have the same size slugs.

He wanted to modify some pliers so that they will grip the slugs perfectly when making alignment adjustments.

Below are the modified pliers Brian made me. They have parallel flat surfaces that are just wider than a Corona or Smith-Corona type slug so that I can insert leather padding to protect the slug when I use the pliers:

The lesson of the parable of the Wayward Type Slug and the Good Neighbor is: live next door to Brian.