(excerpted from a variety of chapters...)
THE BEGINNING
Said one magazine article in a quote from him, "When I was twelve years old I decided it was about time for me to take a swing at the world. At the time, the automobile was the scientific but unpredictable wonder of the day, but to me its future was assured. So I was determined to build one. Rather short on capital at the moment, I borrowed eight dollars from my younger brother, Lewis, and with his help I concocted a four-wheeled wagon, powered it with an electric motor and battery, and displayed it to my father as my 'invention.' He looked at it with the gloomiest eyes. In fact, he thought so little of my contraption that he offered me ten dollars if it would work. After the test--my 'automobile' had traversed the whole block--I accepted the ten dollars, paid Lewis his eight, plus a dollar as his share of the profit, and gloatingly pocketed my dollar, convinced that I had embarked on a great industrial career in the new mechanical age."
Stories about the car he did put on the market are legion--but the one that sticks in my mind most is the one involved in advertising the car. Ralph Jones was the advertising agency that handled the account of the Crosley car, the forerunner of the Volkswagen which later captured the hearts--and pocketbooks--of the American public. The poor lad whose job it was to write the ads for the Crosley car was beside himself with frustration. He and everyone in the agency wanted Mr. Crosley to run big full-page ads telling of the wonder of the gadget, but Crosley was firm.
"It is a small car," he said. "Therefore we will run small ads for it."
As for formal education, Powel Crosley attended the University of Cincinnati. First he studied engineering. Then, because his father asked him to, he switched to law college. But he was too restless to stick with either. His love was still automobiles. In 1907, when he turned twenty-one, and after he had several small jobs, he borrowed $10,000 to build his first car, one that he himself had designed. It was called the "Marathon Six." It had, as you might have guessed, six cylinders. He designed it to sell for around $1700--several hundred dollars less than dealers were then asking for two- and three-cylinder cars. But time was not in his favor. In 1907, there was a panic. Dollars were scarce. The new company, hardly in business, went out of business fast. He put the dream away--for awhile.
He turned to advertising and developed a few automobile by-products to be sold via the mail. He kept developing products, some not having to do with cars, and built a company that would sell items to the masses rather than the classes. Then came radio.
Some people went into the radio business headfirst, Crosley seemed to back into it, finding himself in the middle of the new industry almost by accident. How'd he get into the radio business? "One day my son came home with a glowing description of a new wireless outfit." The son, Powel III, begged his father to buy one for him. The father said sure, thinking the gadget was little more than a toy, but when he and his son went shopping the next day for one of the "wireless gadgets" Powel Crosley, Jr. was somewhat shocked. No matter how many stores they shopped, the lowest-priced "wireless" still cost more than $100. So the father did the next best thing. Rather than spend $100, he spent 25¢ for a book called the ABC's of Radio.
"I read the book and it intrigued me. A copule of days later
I went back to the shop and asked if I could buy the parts separately and
assemble the radio myself. For between $20 and $25 I returned home with
headphones, a tuning coil, a crystal detector, a condenser, and other
mystifying gadgets."
He managed to put them all together and received Pittsburgh! He was properly intrigued. He hurried back to the shop and had them build him a set that cost $200. In the summer of 1921 he ordered, in addition, a 20-watt transmitter and started sending recorded music out over the air. He said, "Before I knew it, I had virtually forgotten my regular business in the interest of radio."
Crosley was still a busines man and was concerned that the radios available then were more of a rich man's toy. So, he hired two young engineers from the University of Cincinnati and designed a radio set that sold for $20. Later on the price was reduced to $9, but sold for $15 when headphones were added.
His company started selling radios, and soon was selling lots of radios. The next step was logical, he got permission from the government to build a radio station, and in March 1922 put WLW on the air.
In January 1922, only twenty-eight stations were operating. A month later, eight more stations were on the air. In March 1922, sixty-five stations were on the air, but if Crosley had waited one more month he would have had the company of 132 other stations broadcasting in America. Fast forward to the end of December 1922, and one would find 570 stations on the air.
To make matters interesting, all radio stations were on one of two frequencies. If they weren't at 485 meters, they were at 360 meters. By the fall of 1922, stations were allowed to spread out a little, but there still was confusion on the airwaves.
The first transmitter was a 20-watt transmitter that contained four five-watt tubes built by the Standard Precision Instrument Company. This was in the summer of 1921, and the station had a "special land station" license from the Department of Commerce. However, the WLW call had not been granted.
Now, the call letters? It's either 8XAA or 8CR. One is correct, which we'll never know for sure. WLW became WLW in March 1922, and was given the 360 meter spot on the dial, with fifity watts of power.
Although the station went on the air on March 2, the Grand Opening did not come about until March 23rd. Reception reports came in from Colorado, Maine, Michigan, Wisconsin, Connecticut, and Dent, Ohio.
The staff at WLW was forever trying to see how far WLW actually reached. In November 1922, a contest was held. A book was awarded to the best letter from an adult and a child who said things about the WLW programs. One winner lived in Vallejo, California. In January 1923, WLW offered a free box of candy to the first one from each state to send in a telegram. Entries were received from forty-two states! Three provinces of Canada answered as well as listeners from the District of Columbia. At the time, WLW broadcast with only 100 watts of power.
Powel Crosley, Jr. sent a copy of the Crosley Radio Weekly to anyone who asked for it. He got requests from maine to California, with Cuba, Mexico, Panama, and the West Indies tossed in for good measure. In 1923, the publication went to more than twenty-five thousand listeners each week--everywhere. Also, WLW started its own fan club called "The Lightning Bugs." To join cost nothing. But members were required to "live the life of lightning bugs, coming forth at nightfall, or in time to hear the radio concerts over WLW." The club had ten thousand members. Each member had a special "lightning bug" pin.
If you think WLW's 50,000 watts today are powerful stuff, you probably will not be terribly impressed--as Cincinnati was back in 1923--when WLW boosted its power to 500 watts. But back then 500 watts was really something. But all was not perfect in those early days. On March 11, 1923, along came a big wind and poof! there went the antenna and the station was off the air for several days.
In January 1923, Crosley had purchased the Precision Instrument Company, Cincinnati, and as part of the purchase, acquired WMH which had after a fashion, been on the air since 1919. The powerful WMH antenna was a vertical steel rod which had for an insulator at its base an empty wine bottle! By acquiring the station and the wine bottle, Crosley was able to have WLW itself on the air five nights a week instead of the three it had been allowed.
In 1924 WLW made plans to increase its power again. This time it wanted to broadcast with 1,000 watts! The plan called for moving its transmitter and tower to Harrison, Ohio. WLW, by then, could be found at 710 kHz (then called kilocycles). They shared 710 with WMH, not the one they bought, but a newer one. the forerunner of WKRC. Confusion prevailed at times, and neither station could agree on which one should broadcast when. Finally, it was decided that WLW would concede an early period on Wednesday evening to WMH. But from 8 to 10 p.m. on Wednesday it was arranged that WMH would divide time with WLW for one month at 710, then divide time with WSAI for a month on 920 kc.
On Wednesday, June 1, 1927, WLW moved from 710 to 700 kc. At first WLW shared this dial position with WMAF, Dartmouth, Massachusetts, and KFBU, Laramie, Wyoming. The Dartmouth station only operated during the summer months and then stopped operating altogether. The Laramie station eventually moved to another frequency. WLW was alone on the 700 spot.
Around January 1925, WLW started tinkering with its 5,000 watt transmitter at Harrison, Ohio. WLW was the first station in the nation broadcast with this much power. However, by September 1925 four other stations were also using 5,000 watts. A year after getting the 5,000 watt tansmitter, WLW ordered a 50,000 watt transmitter.
Authorization to start building its 50,000 watt transmitter came on May 25, 1928. A little over four months later (October 4, 1928) the new giant transmitter was cranked up and started shouting at the world from Mason, Ohio..
The new power meant new transmitting facilities at Mason, Ohio. Shortwave buffs please note that the station installed a pair of three hundred foot towers, six hundred feet apart, with the antenna stretched horizontally between the two on a north-south line. Whereas the 5,000 watt transmitter had been water-cooled, the 50,000 watt transmitter was also water-cooled, but the water was in turn cooled by five giant fans. As for coverage, both Washington, DC, and Jacksonville, Florida, said WLW came in as powerful as any local on the dial. WOR in New York complained a little. Said the New York station: WLW at 700 on the dial was causing a little interference with it at 710 on the dial. This was the moment in time that WLW became "The Nation's Station."
When the 1920's ended, DXing had ended for all but the newest radio listener. The listener wanted programs. The listener no longer was a member of the "Lightning Bugs." The lightning bugs had winked off. And what was left, was radio.