what a wonderfully descriptive tale of the great unexpected find. Congratulations !! and thanks for sharing.
Bruce ----- Original Message ----- From: "Andrew Baron" <[email protected]> To: "Antique Phonograph List" <[email protected]> Sent: Monday, October 19, 2009 7:45:32 PM GMT -05:00 US/Canada Eastern Subject: [Phono-L] Never thought it would happen to me >From time to time, I've derived vicarious pleasure from reading of some of the phono-L members' coincidental discovery and acquisition of a particularly sought-after or scarce phonograph. In general, most of the membership are in areas that are either more populated, or nearer to denser metropolitan areas than here in Santa Fe, NM. Roll back the calendar a few decades, and my region is pretty sparsely populated, with more ranching than any kind of manufacturing or other work that would draw a larger population. Fewer people = fewer manufactured goods, including phonographs. Add to this the budget for a machine that most New Mexicans had (or prioritized for music) a century or so ago, and you have relatively few phonographs to begin with, and most of those in the low-to-middle cost range. Edison Standards, Victrola IV's, X's and XI's, and low- end Columbias are inevitably the models that turn up, and usually in none too good a condition if not out of a collection. Naturally some desirable machines were brought here later on, but by and large this hasn't amounted to anything significant, and there isn't much of a collecting community here. So opportunities to build a collection are rather limited. That being said, I started collecting in 1974, when I was 12, and my Victor 8-30X, Edison maroon Gem, Edison early A-250 and a Zonophone Grand Opera were all acquired here in Santa Fe, current population 72,000. Not exactly a small town, but outside of Albuquerque, we are geographically isolated from the big population centers. The Zonophone was brought here from New England in the '70s, when its past owner moved here. To the subject at hand: Two days ago, a big local consignment shop was having their annual Fall sale; everything 30% off. This event draws what seems like half of Santa Fe, and while my wife and I usually attend it, we generally wait until late in the day to avoid the pressing crowds. Anyway, most of what the shop sells is vintage furniture, rugs, artwork, etc., some of it quite nice, but rarely anything of particular interest to a phonograph collector, so no penalty for arriving when convenient. We had been browsing around for about a quarter of an hour when the proprietor let me know that there were "a couple of Victrolas" in the next room. We continued looking around in the part of the store where we currently were, and after about ten minutes more, I finally said that I'd like to take a look and see what the phonographs were. We headed casually across the distance, through the crowds of people and things toward the next room. No sooner had I uttered the words "These machines are going to be examples of the most common models, and probably overpriced", than I could see the unmistakable silhouette of Victor XVII or XVIII, just sticking out beyond the wall separating the rooms. Quickening my pace (they were still 20 feet away), I prepared my mind to see a Victor XVII, the alternative possibility being somewhat beyond my powers of imagination. Still, a Victor XVII would be a great find although I already own one (courtesy of a very kind tip from a thoughtful phono-L member, $200, and a 125 mile round-trip to Albuquerque). Coming up alongside the curvy machine, I noticed first that the top curl of the rear corner post was mostly missing -- a clean break from bashing the machine into a wall or truck bed, no doubt. I also noticed the fine, expressive trim on the cabinet side and the chevron- shaped veneer pattern and practically leapt the last couple of feet so I could see the front of the machine, which left no doubt. There's something unbelievable about finding a top-end machine in New Mexico, and even though I have the XVII, and was already well aware of the differences, I had to see the VV-XVIII on the ID plate with my own eyes. The 3-digit serial number was also a strange thing to behold on a New Mexico Victrola. This was a dirty, dusty machine, with some of its edges and trim scraped up from careless handling, but at a glance, in generally good and very solid shape except for a few scrapes and that broken-off upper rear corner piece. Definitely not something out of someone's phonograph collection, and just as you like to find them -- clearly untouched for decades. A quick appraisal of what it had to offer revealed: Original gold V key; Gold needle cup, all original casters, all correct knobs, front and back; Large, gold crank escutcheon detached and screws missing, but still sitting on the crank about a half-inch out from the side of the cabinet; Near perfect felt on the platter; Almost certainly the original gold Exhibition soundbox, Ser. #87347B, never rebuilt; Very, very dirty under the lid and in general (what is this greasy, black stuff?); Most of the record storage area filled with (non-Victor) matched albums full of classical records, and otherwise stuffed to the gills with sheet music; Missing the lower key escutcheon and motor lift knob (and that maddeningly absent corner curl). Price, $650, minus 30%. Sold! It's home now, and I'm having fun cleaning it up and getting more intimately familiar with its exquisite details, and learning why this model is so prized. It's going to be quite nice, ultimately, with a respectable original finish, after a many hours of carefully applied elbow grease and the appropriate preparations. The fancy work and doors on the back with their gold-plated hardware, concealing a nice compartment came as a complete surprise. You never see this view in the books. The motor is relatively clean (very little of the usual greasy build-up, just a yellowed film of old hard residue). A couple drops of oil in all the pertinent places, and a light coat of fresh grease on the governor worm, and it runs very quietly and evenly. Even the speed indicator works. The main springs thud something awful when winding down though, so I'll treat the motor to a proper tear- down and rebuild when I attend to those noisy springs. Comparing the total production of the spring-motor XVIII to the number of Victrolas produced puts it at something like 0.0004 of the total 1906 - 1929 production, and .0009 of the 1906-1920 production total (Roman numeral model-number era). This equates to less than one-tenth of one percent of the total production of the early Victrola era, and less than half of that when considering the total Victrola era, if I did my math right. Finally (for those who've had the patience to read this far), the gold- plated motor lift knob was found in the needle cup, and the broken-off upper-rear corner was found otherwise undamaged, in a recess of the cabinet. It proved a seamless fit to the fracture surface. Anyone got a key escutcheon? I hope you've enjoyed this story, still fresh from the event and accurately conveyed, and I wish similarly exciting phonograph discoveries for those of you who have not yet had the pleasure. Kindest regards, Andy Baron _______________________________________________ Phono-L mailing list http://phono-l.oldcrank.org _______________________________________________ Phono-L mailing list http://phono-l.oldcrank.org
