By Russ Stewart – Victoria, B.C.
During the lean years of the 1930s, a ray of light came into our lives in the form of a radio. Dad paid $2 for it at an auction sale. He and Uncle Charlie carried it in the door late one fall afternoon and set it on the table. We all rushed to examine this marvel.
Even before it found its voice it was an awe inspiring object. It was a King brand. It was a large black rectangular metal box full of vacuum tubes and all sorts of other mysteries. There were some dials on the front and a big black bakelite horn that sat on top of the box. It was connected to it by two wires.
Dad wasted no time in setting up a tall poplar post in the yard. He strung an antenna to the house and attaching it to the radio. He tuned it in and was immediately hooked. The thing gave wonderful reception.
Heard voices from afar
Salt Lake City and even Mexico City came in loud and clear, especially during the winter. Those evenings were the longest and the farm demanded the least work. Unfortunately, we get a thorn with every rose. After a few days, the wonderful voice began to fade.
The machine was energized by a dry battery and a two-volt wet battery. The wet battery soon became discharged. The remedy was to take it to the garage in town and get it recharged. This was not a large inconvenience or a prohibitive expense. It soon became evident, however, that the radio had a remarkable appetite for two-volt energy.
Weekly trips to charge the battery were required if we were to continue enjoying the gossip from CKBI Prince Albert and Foster Hewitt’s broadcasts of Hockey Night in Canada.
Dad solved the problem by acquiring a six-volt car battery. He used one of the three cells at a time to power the radio, and extended the time between charges to about three weeks.
When the old King eventually expired, we got a new mantel radio. It was powered by a battery pack. The pack was essentially two large dry batteries stuck together in a carton about the size, shape, and weight of a 12-pack of beer.
Battery packs didn’t last
This arrangement relieved us of the trouble and expense of having a wet battery charged. The problem with it was that one part of the pack tended to become discharged before the other part did. The remedy was to substitute a telephone battery for the ailing part.
Another problem was the packs were relatively expensive, $10 or more as I recall. Most families could only afford to buy one pack a year, usually after harvest. By the following summer, the pack would be completely exhausted. That mattered little to most people, because farmers were busy on the land and us kids spent most of the time outdoors.
I can still clearly remember a Sunday morning in the fall of 1939. Our battery pack was long dead and we hadn’t yet gotten a new one yet. We’d walked up the road to meet neighbour children that morning. We’d all walk together to Sunday School at the little church a mile farther along, across from the school.
The neighbour’s radio was still working. They told us that war had been declared against Germany. Even as kids, we all realized that great events were about to unfold.
