Ode to Smith Corona

Smith Corona Silent Super (1956)

The Smith Corona - Just Like my Mom's

I’ve been wondering lately, “What happened to my mother’s old typewriter?” Darn I wish I knew! No doubt she gave it to a friend or a family member. I sure would love to have it now! To put it in the corner of my den (if i had one) in homage to an era long-gone and to the instrument where-all-this-began.

By ‘all this,’ I mean my inclination to want to write. Back then it was “typing”. Whether it be a letter, a list, school work or banging out useless nonsense I was a typin’ fool! How many times I must have typed The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog. From the time I was a young boy, eleven or twelve years old — maybe earlier, I would spend hours in front of that Smith Corona Super-Silent. Looking at the photo above floods my mind with memories.

This clever contraption the typewriter has a storied history dating back to at least the early 1800s when many of the machines were first designed to enable the blind to write. Blickensderfer No. 7 (1897)Mark Twain in his autobiography claimed he was the first important writer to present a publisher with a typewritten manuscript. It was his 1876 novel The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. You may have heard of it. To say the least the typewriter and how we write the written word would see a lot of changes and innovations over the coming years.

My mother’s typewriter, made of textured steel was Smith Corona Silent Super (1956)heavy and rugged — built like a tank — but unlike the bigger office models it was smaller and portable. It was a top-quality machine. After many years of use nothing ever broke or wore out on it, it was as good as the day it was first purchased. When not using it we kept it slipped into it’s locked-down position and secured inside it’s carry case, tucked away in a beautiful mahogany desk. That desk, another 1950’s ‘antique,’ had three leather in-laid sections on top, another piece of my past that would be wonderful to behold. A special lower drawer on it’s left side (or was it the right) was made expressly for storing the Smith Corona and included a sliding fold-up shelf for sitting the typewriter on.

I’ve always thought the typewriter (at least the manual, pre-electric kind) a fascinating piece of machinery. Interesting how Typewriter Keys and Barseverything worked in sync, the keys attached to levers, the type bars and the hard-rubber platen. With a quick but firm stroke to a key the energy transferred through a series of linkages to create the inked impression on paper that advanced the platen one precise space at a time. It all worked seamlessly amidst a jumble of tiny springs, gears, screws and miscellaneous parts hidden beneath the cover and at the lightning speed — in those days — of my 10 words or so per minute. I remember untangling the typebars when I would hit more than one key at the same time, that happened a lot.

I recall too the smell of the ink from the little reels of ribbon. How I would occasionally flip them over and carefully thread the inked-cloth — from one reel and across through the guides to the other — to catch the bottom (now top) half for a fresh, dark image. My fingers were blackened with the inked smudges that to my mother’s chagrin left their mark on the typewriter, the furniture, my clothes, the walls and everywhere else. Old Typewriter DrawingThere was something too about the finished product from those machines, the feeling of accomplishment and something about the feel of the paper between my fingers, the smell and the texture. Even today I’ll often pick up a newly printed book, check to see that no one is watching, and inhale the fresh aroma of the paper and the ink.

I was always drawn to, and in some ways mesmerized, by the sound of a typewriter’s rat-a-tat-tat, the clickity clack with each tap of the keys under the skilled hands of a 40+ word-per-minute typist. That percussive symphony with the dependable ring of the bell at the end of each line followed by the slap and slide of the returning carriage. A room full of them, even better!

Despite my half-hearted attempt to take typing class in ninth grade before a gun-metal, slightly abused Royal, and later several similar attempts to learn the touch-typing method, I’ve always reverted back to my trusty old hunt and peck technique. I overdid the power-stroke thing as I vividly remember the heavy impression of my typewritten pages with their tiny indentations that made the back side of the page feel like Braille. Still today I have an annoying tendency to beat my laptop keyboard to a noisy and sometimes distracting level. Old habits as they say are hard to break.

IBM Selectric Type Ball

The IBM Selectric Type Ball

So now, as an adult advancing well into my years, I admit it, yes I’ve been with my share of a few alluring, seductive typewriters in my day. After leaving that Smith Corona behind when I left home, and throughout my days in the Air Force then college and on to work in various broadcasting jobs, I would have my way with the Olivetti’s, the Royals, the Remingtons and the Underwoods. Later as a television news reporter I would become familiar with several breeds of those come-hither IBM Selectrics. I had arrived! Top quality, rugged reliability and that snap-in, snap-out interchangeable typing element. How’d they get that little ball to spin and tilt so darn fast?

IBM Selectric
The ‘creme de la creme’ IBM Selectric!

Who would have thought what was in-store for the typewriter in those days and the things we’d be doing from the modern version of it’s still-familiar QWERTY keyboard? Not that manual typewriters aren’t still being made, they are. Much like the error in reporting the death of writer Mark Twain earlier reports of the typewriter’s demise have been greatly exaggerated.

Now in an age when the typewriter has lost it’s luster and they’ve become mostly mechanical corpses – relics of the past – I pay tribute to the little machine that started it all for me. Oh how I wish I had recognized the value that beautiful Smith Corona of my youth would one day have. Yes, the typewriter may be on it’s last legs, but my memories of me sitting at that Smith Corona at my mother’s mahogany desk, so many years ago, will be with me forever. Funny how simple things like that leave their indelible mark on our memories of the past.

Now, don’t get me going about floppy disks!

As always thanks for stopping by.

Note: I’ve rewritten the basics section of my About the Writer page. Maybe you can take a moment to check it out.

℘

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10 comments on “Ode to Smith Corona

  1. Rex Ryan says:

    I’m glad to have discovered your blog. The site style is perfect, your articles are excellent. 😀

    Good job, cheers!

  2. oldereyes says:

    Hey, Rick, I’m back to blog reading and glad to find some new stuff here.

    I have the portable Royal (mechanical) typewriter my parents gave me when I graduated from high school in the garage. No, it doesn’t type on stone tablets, although it does prefer papyrus. I may have to take it for a spin one of these days.

    Yeah, I’m rolling my eyes, Jeni. You may not type fast but you type LONG.

    • Rick Gleason says:

      Glad I found your blog and happy to have you visit mine.

      That’s cool that you still have that old typewriter from so long ago. Take it out and display it proudly, rather than just let it collect dust.

      Thanks for taking the time to comment.

  3. moogie says:

    Rick, Your remembrances of the old days of technology brought back many fond memories for me. I was a Secretary when it was a necessary profession. I think I may have an old Smith Corona up in the attic!

    I do, however, have two IBM Correcting Selectric Typewriters that I keep as monuments to my early career. In addition I have an older heavy, heavy black typewriter sitting on Grandma’s treadle sewing machine!

    The IBM I used in the early seventies did not have a cover over the keys. This was because the last two or three keys on each end could be pulled out and replaced with scientific symbol keys! Talk about the patience of Job! Just think of it – changing keys constantly. I know what you meant about the black ink!

    I was a Technical Secretary at Mellon Institute in Pittsburgh, PA and typing many an equation! It was an art form. Not long ago, I typed some equations on the word processor and felt it was much easier to work the “Old Way”.

    I loved the trip down memory lane. Thanks for reminding us of the “good old days”!

  4. This post brought back a lot of memories to me -most good, some hilarious, some also about what a frustrating typing student I was to my old H.S. typing teacher too. (That lady, btw, is still living and is also on the Board of the Clearfield County Historical Society too.) I was her nemesis student -the one who had speed out the yazoo but accuracy -not so much! I would test at 96 wpm until they subtracted the errors which then took me down to a nice fat 60-65 wpm!… My current speed on this type of keyboard ranges around 73-78 wpm, depending on how stiff my fingers are on any given day!

    Great post, Rick! (All that to tell you I really enjoyed what you had to say!)

    Watch Bud roll his eyes I bet when he reads this comment.

  5. bonkasaurus says:

    This post is so well written!

    I love how you called your mom’s type writer small enough to be portable. I complain that my 5 pound macbook is too heavy to take with me.

    I used to make fun of my dad for typing letters for my grandma and grandpa in Italy using a typewriter when we had a desktop computer, now he uses the desktop but every once in a while he whips out the typewriter.

    -Bianca at http://theinbetweengirls.wordpress.com/

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