O Say Can You See?

Electric cars: 100 years ago and today

“At slow speeds it runs on battery power,” transportation curator emeritus William Withuhn explained during my first ride in his 2003 Toyota Prius hybrid car. This was historic; not since the 1910s, when battery-powered cars were common, could mass-market vehicles cruise the streets silently and emission-free. Then, between 2006 and 2011, several manufacturers introduced new all-electric battery cars, betting that motorists would rather plug in at home than plug more and more money into gasoline pumps. Recently I visited a Tesla showroom, spoke with a Nissan LEAF salesman, and even looked at a solar charging station in a suburban shopping center.

The wave of the future? This sleek 1997 EV1 was an experimental electric car made by General Motors that was leased on a limited basis but never reached the market and was quickly discontinued. Broader development and sales of electric cars began a decade later amid rising gasoline prices and growing concerns about air pollution and global warming. Photo by Hugh Talman.

Will consumers accept cars with rechargeable lithium ion batteries as readily as they switched to digital cameras, cell phones, and iPods? Many people think that electric cars are better than gasoline models, not only because of lower operating costs, but because of quicker acceleration and cleaner air. But with so many virtues, why did electric cars disappear in the first place?

Studying the museum’s electric car collection helped me find the answers. In the early 20th century, motorists had a choice of electric, steam, or gasoline cars, and it wasn’t clear that any one type would dominate the market. Electricity was beginning to power home appliances, lights, and streetcars, so it seemed natural to put electric motors and batteries in carriages. Electric vehicles like the museum’s elegant 1900 Riker, utilitarian 1904 Columbia runabout, and well-upholstered 1914 Rauch and Lang were simple to operate, and they were clean, quiet, and comfortable.

This 1914 Rauch and Lang electric was the personal car of Marie D. Gorgas, wife of William C. Gorgas, Surgeon General of the Army. She donated it to NMAH in 1929. Photo by Veronica Conkling.

But cars were expensive, and so was electricity. A sizable market for electric cars developed among wealthy urban women, but price and technical challenges limited the market. An electric car didn’t run very far between charges, and its lead-acid batteries required frequent maintenance. Electricity for recharging batteries wasn’t even available in most of rural America until the 1930s, and Americans had an urge to travel long before then.

An easy-to-operate, electrically powered “parlor on wheels” provided expanded personal mobility for wealthy urban women in the 1900s and 1910s.

Most car buyers in the 1910s and 1920s chose gasoline cars, which were far from perfect but had much longer range between fill-ups. In most people’s minds, gasoline—not the car battery—was bottled lightning. Filling stations could be located anywhere, and before long, gasoline cars symbolized portable energy and expanded personal mobility.

The museum’s 1913 Ford Model T touring car is significant because of what’s not beneath the radiator. The first owner replaced the engine crank with an electric starter, combining the ease of an electric car with the range of a gasoline car. Photo by Harold Dorwin.

In 1912, several makers of gasoline cars dealt a fatal blow to the electric car by taking two of its best features-switch-on starting and electric lighting–and adding them to their own vehicles. The museum’s 1913 Ford Model T touring car still came with a starting crank and acetylene gas headlights, but the first owner replaced them with a state-of-the-art electric starter and electric headlights. By the late 1920s, those features were standard on new cars, and electric cars were all but extinct.

“Electrifying Cars,” an exhibit that opened at the musuem on October 27, 2011, looks at the market for electric cars 100 years ago and today and efforts to combine the advantages of electric and gasoline cars. Left, a 1904 Columbia electric car. Right, a 1913 Ford Model T touring car with an owner-installed electric starter and electric headlights. Photo by Harold Dorwin.

Fast forward to the 1990s, when California required that a percentage of new cars must emit no pollutants. The museum’s 1997 General Motors EV1 electric car is one of several makes and models developed to meet that mandate. Unlike other electric car prototypes, the EV1 was designed and built from scratch. It boasted sophisticated power control systems, lightweight materials, and an aerodynamic shape. But the company decided that the EV1 wouldn’t be commercially viable because of high production costs, and GM and all other manufacturers pulled the plug on electric cars.

Fast forward again to the early 21st century and headlines about escalating gasoline prices, surging global demand for gasoline, strained oil supplies, and global warming. GM introduced the Chevrolet Volt, a new type of electric car that runs on battery power with a gasoline-generator backup, while Nissan, Mitsubishi, Tesla, and Fisker introduced all-electric cars. With sales of electric cars close to 15,000 in 2011, a growing number of Americans are in the mood to turn on, plug in, and drop out of the oil distribution chain.

Roger White is Associate Curator for Road Transportation with the Division of Work and Industry at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History.

Black Friday and the missing retail amenity

“Black Friday”—the day after Thanksgiving when holiday shopping goes into high gear—promises to start even earlier this year on Thursday, the day previously known as Thanksgiving. Some retailers plan to open at 9pm thereby advancing the midnight rush by three hours. It is perhaps only a matter of time before retailers open even earlier, in a continuing scramble for any advantage, until there are no distinctions left between the days on the retail calendar.

Children’s souvenir booklet, Santa’s Own Story Book, Kresge Department Store, Newark, New Jersey, ca. 1926.

Once upon a time the nation’s retailers were attuned to the rhythm of the seasons. By the turn of the twentieth century it became apparent to most that more goods were sold in November and December than in all other months combined. Retailers planned accordingly and developed creative amenities to thaw hearts and jangle cash registers. The big idea was to make the big store a destination—shopping followed. The store that successfully associated itself with the holiday season became a leading retail institution.

Describing the strategy in 1894, Harry Harman, an “artistic decorator and window draper” from Louisville, Kentucky, noted the “jostling multitude” of sightseers that filled the streets “in front of the most attractive window and the building decorated and illuminated.” Directly addressing reluctant store owners who doubted the efficacy of such a strategy, Harmon explained: “the crowd, dazzled by the grand effect, will enter the store, and purchase, whereas, if your store was not made attractive, the crowd of people would pass by.” By 1913 The Show Window magazine regularly reported on the escalating practice of retail attraction, like the ever-popular Santa Claus parade, that delivered Santa through city streets to the store and installed him (and his helpers) at the back of a well-stocked toy department. The holiday window came into its own as an eagerly anticipated annual attraction in which nothing but the store’s institutional leadership was sold.

Reindeer relax in the kitchen of the Cozy Cloud Cottage, Marshall Field & Company, Chicago, 1948.

But that’s all changed now. By the late 1950s retail observers noted the rise of big box stores that largely abandoned holiday decor. Some characterized the bare-bones economy of display as dispiriting and soulless. At the same time the rise of the suburban shopping mall was changing life downtown, mostly for the worse. The consolidation of the retail industry soon left many towns without a department store and an austere holiday display scene absent of trimmings.

The main aisle, Marshall Field & Company, Chicago, ca. 1956.

With the certain exception of the walking precincts of New York’s Fifth Avenue and Chicago’s State Street, the over-the-top scale of imaginative display has diminished along with the retail amenities of yore. The lavishly-decorated store, the animated window, and other traditions are gone, given over to the big-box anomy of never-ending price markdowns, products on pallets, and shopping on Thanksgiving.

William L. Bird, Jr., is the author of Holidays on Display and curator at the National Museum of American History.

The View From Up North: Americans experience Mexico, circa 1890-1945

In the years prior to World War II, most Americans had limited first-hand experience of their southern neighbor. Mexico primarily was known as a place for American financial investment and as a land of frequent political turmoil. These examples from the Archives Center’s collections illustrate some of the ways in which Americans learned about Mexico—without ever leaving home.

Silver gelatin print by Katherine Joseph, 1941. Katherine Joseph Collection, 1930s-1940s.

Many Americans learned about Mexico’s long history and rich cultural heritage through published images. Aztec ruins, bullfighting, historic churches, colorful scenery, and peasant life were common images on postcards, stereograph cards, and photographs in magazines. This image of Mexican villagers preparing for Palm Sunday festivities was photographed by Katherine Joseph for Life magazine in 1941.

Bull Fight Scenes, Mexico, 1903. Silver gelatin prints on album page. Van Tassell Photograph Albums, 1900-1956.

Some Americans experienced Mexico through the eyes of friends and neighbors who had been there. Postcards sent during a visit, snapshots, and photo albums all provided intriguing glimpses of Mexican history and culture. Mexican music and dance were enjoyed by many Americans, who found them exotic. Stage performances and feature films provided inspiration; beautifully-illustrated sheet music enabled people to play Mexican tunes in their homes.

“The World’s Greatest Silver Mining City, Guanajuato, Mexico.” Stereograph by Keystone View Co., ca. 1900-1910. Division of Cultural History Lantern Slides and Stereographs, ca. 1887-1930.

Children’s toys and collectibles sometimes featured traditional Mexican clothing styles. This 1944 set of paper dolls was inspired by President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s “Good Neighbor” foreign policy, which improved relations with Mexico and ensured its support for the Allies in World War II. The cards showing Mexican vaqueros (cowboys)—both young and old—were included in late 19th century cigarette packages just as baseball cards are included with bubble gum today.

Good Neighbor Paper Dolls doll house, 1944. Helen Popenoe Paper Dolls, 1942-1947.

Americans were able to experience Mexico first-hand by attending one of many world’s fairs held in the United States. At the fairs, ordinary Mexicans demonstrated their culture and customs while living in recreated “authentic” village exhibits. Other exhibits portrayed Mexico’s long and colorful history, with an emphasis on its Aztec and Mayan roots. An entire Mayan temple was recreated for Mexico’s pavilion at the 1934 Chicago “Century of Progress” exhibition.

Orrin Bros. & Nichol’s Aztec Fair pamphlet. Warshaw Collection of Business Americana.

As automobile ownership spread in the 1920s and 1930s, Americans from across the country were able to afford to travel there—drawn by the country’s nearness, ease of entry, beautiful scenery, exotic culture, and multi-faceted history. Recognizing the economic importance of American tourism, both the Mexican government and private organizations actively promoted tourism during the 1930s and 1940s. The Direccion General de Turismo (Federal Tourist Bureau) was established and travel brochures and guides became widely available in the United States. As a result, the number of American visitors to Mexico increased almost three times between 1930 and 1950.

Craig Orr is an Aquistions Archivist at the Archives Center at the National Museum of American History. This post originally appeared on the Smithsonian Collections blog.

Moving Beyond Earth: Innovations in Space

Editor's note: Listen to Matthew Hersch discuss the history behind the development of the space suit. From early high altitude suits, to women’s foundation garments and depictions in popular culture, Hersch covers the amazing story behind one of space exploration’s most important inventions.

This weekend, November 18 and 19, the National Air and Space Museum hosts the Lemelson Center for the Study of Invention and Innovation’s 2011 New Perspectives on Invention and Innovation symposium. This year, it promises to be a stimulating and exciting time as we ponder Moving Beyond Earth: Innovations in Space.

1981, The Space Shuttle program begins with the launch of Columbia, STS-1. Courtesy of NASA.

The task of this gathering is to consider the nature of invention and innovation in space. We, in general, have the belief that the technologies used to engage in spaceflight are by definition innovative. This may be true at some level, but the relationships between technological innovation; various space institutions; innovative concepts, practices, or organizations; and the people associated with each are intrinsically complex. Essentially nonlinear, these relationships allow innovation to take place, no doubt, but there does not seem to be a way to guarantee it. Those who seek to command innovation find that changes in inputs to various aspects of the systems, themselves designed to yield innovative alterations, do not necessarily ensure proportionate positive developments in output. It is non-linearity writ large.

1998, International Space Station begins operations. Photo courtesy of the National Air and Space Museum.

I find such discussions invigorating, and the symposium promises to bring together a range of thinkers about the subject to explore various aspect of space-technology innovation. Engineers such as Larry Williams of SpaceX, Haym Benaroya from Rutgers University, and Pablo de León from the University of North Dakota will offer discussions of some of the vexing questions we have about reaching into space and living and working there once we go there to stay. Historians such as Michael Neufeld of the National Air and Space Museum, Amy Foster of the University of Central Florida, and Matthew Hersch of the University of Pennsylvania unravel the complexity of past space efforts to help illuminate the present. And such policy leaders as scientist and astronaut Tom Jones and American University professor Howard McCurdy chart the course of future endeavors to reach beyond this planet to the larger cosmos.

1926, Robert Goddard launches the first liquid-fueled rocket. Photo courtesy of NASA.

These are just a few of the highlights of the symposium; it promises to be a rousing time, with keen observations and provocative perspectives on the past, present, and future of humanity of space. A full list of symposium sessions and times is available on the Lemelson Center’s website. Come one, come all!

Roger D. Launius is senior curator in the Division of Space History at the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum.

At the Heart of the Invention: The development of the Holter Monitor

You probably know someone with a heart condition, someone who had a heart attack or even heart surgery. I know I do. According to the Centers for Disease Control, heart disease is the leading cause of death for both men and women in the United States and the most common type of heart disease is coronary artery disease (CAD), which can lead to a heart attack. Sobering data.

There are ways to prevent heart disease such as embracing a healthy lifestyle and there are diagnostic tools to monitor our hearts too, thanks to the work of two creative and persistent men, Norman “Jeff” Holter (1914-1983) and Bruce Del Mar (b. 1913-).

Norman "Jeff" Holter

Their collaboration, which spanned two decades, produced a commercially viable heart monitor known as the Holter Monitor Test. The Holter Monitor is a portable device for continuously monitoring heart activity for an extended period of time, typically 24 hours. The monitor records electrical signals from the heart that are sent via a series of electrodes attached to the chest. The data is then analyzed for different sorts of heart beats and rhythms.

Model 445 Mini-Holter Recorder, illustration from a brochure, 1976

Norman “Jeff” Holter, a native of Helena, Montana, was a biophysicist and inventor whose interests were not confined solely to physics. Holter’s interest in studying electrical activity in humans during their daily activities without touching them spawned his lifelong pursuit to develop the Holter Monitor. Holter’s goal was to radio broadcast and record the more obvious electrophysiological phenomena occurring in humans while carrying on their normal activities, rather than having them be inactive.

Patient attached to heart monitoring equipment: slide of a cartoon, undated

Holter’s first broadcast of a radioelectrocardiogram (RECG) took place circa 1947 and required 80 to 85 pounds of equipment, which Holter wore on his back while riding a stationary bicycle. Holter noted in 1982 that “The 85 lb. RECG, while not practical, represented a major breakthrough since before that time a patient had to lie quietly. Our greatest contribution was a radical one and was the beginning of an era where one could take ECG’s on skiers, parachute jumpers, runners, and just about any other type of vigorous physical activity.”

Advertisement for Del Mar Engineering Laboratories, 1965

Holter’s other contribution was to bring the overall size down to less than cigarette package size to be worn inside a man’s jacket handkerchief pocket. With the development of transistors, radioelectrocardiography was made obsolete and it became possible for all of the components to be placed in a single unit small enough for a coat pocket or purse. Holter was issued US Patent 3,215,136 on November 2, 1965, for the Electrocardiographic Means, and The Holter Research Foundation ultimately sold exclusive rights to the patent to Del Mar Engineering Laboratories, who became the acknowledged leader in Holter monitoring technology for over 40 years.

As articles describing the foundation’s invention of these devices began to appear in the professional literature, there was considerable demand from doctors and hospitals for the equipment. Holter was seeking a partner to manufacture his monitor, and finally met a suitable candidate in Bruce Del Mar in 1962.

Bruce Del Mar’s role as an innovator and collaborator with Holter is especially important because his work spurred the development of an entire diagnostic industry. The Del Mar Avionics Holter Monitor Records, 1951-2011, held at the Archives Center, document through correspondence, engineering notebooks, operator’s manuals more than just the invention of a heart monitor. The records reflect the successful collaboration of an independent inventor and a manufacturing firm to problem-solve, develop a solution, and bring to market a diagnostic technology.

Bruce Del Mar

Del Mar wrote in February of 1965, ”We have continually improved circuitry and mechanical details to obtain greater service fidelity, accuracy, response, and reliability. The instruments we are now delivering are performing very well in the field. We should, however, be thinking and actively working ahead on new model improvements for 1966. Can I have your suggestions in this respect? That would be very much appreciated.” The correspondence reveals a deep level of commitment and investment from both parties to work out technical details, successfully market the monitor, and in general keep the project moving forward.

The successful collaboration between the two men would prove to be invaluable for countless numbers of people. To learn more about the Holter Monitor story, see the collection finding aid at the Archives Center’s web site.

Alison Oswald is an archivist with the Lemelson Center and Archives Center at the National Museum of American History. This post originally appeared on the Smithsonian Collections blog.