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EDISON C-19 RESTORATION PROJECT DIARY
It all started when my Dad had a heart-attack at the end of September in 2003. My eldest brother, the cash-register collector, came down from Lakeport, California to visit with Dad in the Hospital. (I lived near to Dad in Covina, California.) At dinner one night, my brother mentioned that he'd seen a derelict Edison disc machine in a little antique store in the Ukiah area for $50. Now, I've always wanted an Edison Diamond Disc machine, so I found myself saying "If you go by there again and it's still available; get it for me." Now, to his credit, he tried to describe all of its faults. Most of the damage was peeling veneer from damp storage, apparently. In my mind's eye I pictured re-gluing the wood in one day, stripping the cabinet the next day and finishing on day number three.
Anyone familiar with the vagaries of old phonographs, raising a family and Murphy's Law will guess that things happened in a very different time frame than I had pictured.
One day in April 2004, the Edison Disc machine mysteriously appeared in my driveway. I got lucky and my brother's cash-register collecting friend drove it down to me on his way home. (A 10-hour trip on Interstate 5.) Up to this point I had no idea what model it would be. I hoped it might be a C-150 Sheraton at least, but really wanted a C-250 Chippendale. It was almost as good; it ended up being a C-19 Chippendale. It was rough, however. Very rough. It was somewhere on the border between "parts machine" and "kindling". Anyway, there it stood in my driveway in all of its rotting wonder.
The frieze was delaminating with several pieces missing. The casters were rusty and mashed from the cabinet being dropped. The bottom of the cabinet was a mass of warped, delaminated boards. The joints were coming apart and the entire machine had racked slightly to one side. The front bottom brace had been nailed with large round-headed brads. About two inches of the back left foot was missing due to rot. Oh, and it stunk. Not just slightly musty old phonograph smell, but real strong Phono-Stink.
Perhaps I should have run away. If I had been looking at it in an antique shop, I might have passed it by - fast. But there it was. In my driveway. All 150-plus pounds of it. (Actually I don't know what it weighs, but it's real heavy.) The die was cast. And anyway, it needed me. If it were going to be anything but scrap or junk it would be me that would pull it through. Besides, I always wanted a Chippendale Edison - right?.
Round One.
After pulling off all of the hardware, the first order of business was to stabilize, realign and glue the cabinet. The bottom was warped beyond repair. A trip over to Arroyo Hardwoods in Pasadena corrected that in the form of a new Mahogany plywood bottom. While I was there, I bought a sheet of Mahogany veneer for the Dutchman patches to replace the missing bits. It had a paper backing that made it too thick, so I was obliged to soak off the backing before use.
I was lucky that my father-in-law had given me a set of clamps. I carefully removed the brads and nails, and then glued and clamped the framework. I'll admit to using a few countersunk finishing nails for a little insurance. The damage to the hinge area required polyurethane glue to span the splintered gaps with screws for strength. Once the frame was stable, it was time to re-create the rotted foot. I used a wood consolidant and WoodEpox to resculpt the foot. It's great stuff as it accepts stain and is very strong when cured.
After some phone calls and too much money changing hands, I became the owner of a hand-made repro grille. Upon closer inspection, I realized that it was still too roughly executed to be convincing on the finished machine. Finally, I did what I should have and got a salvaged original off of ebay. I also found Carsten Fischer on ebay selling record dividers. He managed to get me the balance of the missing pieces with some to spare. I started in on stabilizing the veneer and patching in the new pieces. Then stuff happened.
Round Two.
I didn't come back to the project until the Summer of 2005. Much life happened in the interval. Lots of family mortality (my Mom, one of my Brothers, etc.) and other changes. I needed a break, so I took some "selfish time" and tackled the C-19 again. The first order of business was to finish the last of the veneer patches. Although Carsten had sent me an entire top section including the frieze, I really wanted to retain as much of the original piece as possible. Operating under that mad train of thought, I cut out replacement sections of veneer by using onionskin paper "rubbings" (taken from good parts of the frieze). I tried using a utility knife, then I switched to an exacto knife, but then I finally went back to my favorite standby: plain old single-edged razor blades. They're the best tool ever. I buy them by the 100.
Much of the veneer work was glued-up with liquid hide glue. I used wax paper as a release paper so the clamping blocks wouldn't stick. Little by little, the cabinet became complete. As the Summer drew to a close, it became obvious that my media business was in serious trouble. I was on the wrong side of a shift in technology. I ended up closing up my office at the end of 2005 and freelancing at another facility for a lot less money. (Ouch.) Needless to say, the C-19 had to wait.
Round Three.
As things began to warm up in the Summer of 2006, I felt it was time to get back to work on the C-19. (It was taking up quite a bit of real estate in my garage in its disassembled state.) It was time to address the finish. The outside finish was badly checked and blackened. If the veneer had been OK, then I would have taken a shot at cleaning and re-amalgamating the finish. Unfortunately, to hide the veneer patches, the outside would have to be stripped down to the wood and re-stained.
The inside finish was not quite as bad, but that wasn't saying very much. It was still quite dirty and checked. The damage to the hinge area in the back of the machine required a fair amount of filler to replace missing wood. So that part had to be stripped and re-stained as well. I bought an Edison reproduction decal for the inside of the lid just in case I couldn't save the original. I got lucky in that with careful cleaning, sanding and application of alcohol, I was able to save the inside of the lid and all of the other inside surfaces. The finish turned out to be a beautiful red mahogany. That was the finish I had to match. I had been reading discussions online about using Mohawk's aniline dye stains, so I decided to give their red mahogany stain a try.
I used a 50/50 mix of lacquer thinner and alcohol for a stripper and many pads of steel wool. One of the trying aspects of stripping is that sometimes things become unglued. I had a little re-gluing on some of the veneer patches. Finally, all was anchored down and sanded using 220 grit sandpaper. Next came the staining.
Aniline Powder Stain can be used as either an alcohol based stain or as a water based stain. Mohawk sells something called "Aniline Reducer" for initial dissolving of the powder, but I suspect that Denatured Alcohol could be used just as well. The directions called for one to five ounces per gallon of solvent (or in my case warm water). I used one ounce (2 tablespoons) to make an initial ½ gallon. (One side note; the stain needs to be strained through a coffee filter or a big wad of cheese cloth to get out undissolved powder crystals.) On a trial piece of wood, that dilution was way too dark. I then added water to make it a whole gallon. While still dark, that seemed to be about right. Aniline dye works very fast. In order not to have nasty overlap marks, I had to work very quickly before things dried. (Big panels are real difficult with a small brush.)
I wanted to use traditional shellac to finish, so I got some Zinnser amber shellac. That wasn't necessarily a mistake, but putting on a thick initial coat was. I found that I had gone well past the point of using grain filler. If I wanted it smooth, all of the grain would have to be filled with the finish. That meant that I was in for way more coats of finish and a lot more sanding. The other problem was that I was doing thicker coats with a brush, rather than thinned shellac applied with a pad. This meant that I had a very much longer drying time. The finish had to be a certain hardness before I could sand it. The way I was working, that meant stopping work for 1 or 2 weeks every so often so that the shellac could cure. BUT, one great attribute of shellac is its ability to seal-out nasty smells. By coating all surfaces, I was finally able to stop the Phono-Stink!
To Be Continued...
