Post by Travis on Feb 13, 2008 21:08:14 GMT -5
In the early '70s when I was running loose in WAKY's Fourth Street studios, I was introduced to a clock like none other I'd seen before. It looked typically enough like any large round analog clock, but this one made sounds and did things that I had never seen a clock do before; especially, at the top of the hour. WAKY had at least 3 of these clocks. One was in the control room and the other two were in each of WAKY's production rooms. There may have even been one in the newsroom and in the studio which was located between the two production rooms (used for interviews and round-table discussions) but I can't recall.
The clock in the control room was right next to the door and right over the chair where I would sat when hanging out with the likes of Mike Griffin, Steven Lee Cook, Jim Miller, Kevin McCarthy and whoever. Some of the jocks had a tendency to open the mic well in advance of saying anything and opening the mic would mute the monitor and the room would be dead silent for a few seconds until the jock would finally speak. During that silence, the clock above my head could be heard ticking. Hidden inside was a pendulum which supported a large lead weight. Each swing of the pendulum caused the second hand to jump in half-second increments, and produced the clicking or ticking sound. And quite often, another sound could be heard during the open mic silence. Every seven and a half minutes the clock could be heard winding itself up. It wasn't quite loud enough to be heard over the air, but it could certainly be heard in the room. And that wasn't all. Every hour, at the top of the hour, a large solenoid inside the clock would become energized and lock both the second and hour hands straight up over the number 12 while a bright red light would illuminate over the number 6. When the time was exactly straight up, right to the second, the solenoid would release the hands and the clock would resume running, but now the time was right on the money. This happened every hour, on the hour, to keep the time as accurate to the second as possible.
The clocks were known as Western Union self-winding clocks and were manufactured by the Self-Winding Clock Company of New York. The company manufactured other clocks of this type, but the ones at WAKY were specifically designed for use in radio and TV studios. What set these clocks apart from others was that they were designed to run quieter by self-winding every seven and a half minutes, rather than all at once at the top of the hour. I'm still not sure if I understand how this made the broadcast models quieter, but in researching the clocks for this post (via Google) that's the info I came across at several sites. The broadcast models also featured a thick layer of sound absorbing felt which lined the inside of the face cover and dampened the ticking, winding, etc., considerably.
Basically, there was a sub-master clock located at a Western Union office somewhere in town. The sub-master was kept synchronized by a regional master and the regional master was kept synchronized by the master clock located at the U.S Naval Observatory in Maryland or Washington D.C. The time on the clocks at WAKY were considered to be U.S. Naval Observatory time and those words were printed across the lower face of the clocks. Each of the clocks at WAKY were connected to something like a phone line which led to the sub-master clock at the Western Union Office. At just about the top of the hour, say... 11:59:59 PM, a small amount of current would enter the clocks via the line from the sub-master at Western Union. The current would close a relay causing two large dry cell batteries (located inside the clocks) to energize the solenoid and illuminate the red light over the number 6. The minute and second hands would lock straight up over the 12 and hold until the time was exactly, say... 12:00:00 AM at which time the current from Western Union would stop, causing the solenoid to release the hands back to the pendulum and movement would resume. The two internal dry cell batteries not only provided the power for the top of the hour synchronizations but also wound the clocks pendulum spring every seven and a half minutes. There was no AC power used with these clocks. The batteries were good for something like seven years and the clocks, and the synchronization service, were leased to WAKY and other stations for something like $25 per year. Maintenance and battery replacement were even included.
The Western Union Self-Winding Clocks were used in many radio and TV stations across the country from sometime around the 1930s to early 1973. The clock can clearly be seen in many of the photos that were taken at WAKY's Kentucky Home Life Building location, but oddly enough, the clock was not captured in any of the images taken at the Fourth Street location. If the service had not been discontinued in early 1973, the clock would have been captured in one of the images showing Johnny Randolph at the WAKY control board in April of '73 (page 8 of the photo section at the time of this writing). In that image, a newer clock can be seen where the old Western Union clock once hung; right next to the studio door and just above where I had once sat with the jocks just a year before. The clocks were present at WKLO as well. Take a look at page 3 (at the time of this writing) of the photo section at 1080WKLO.com and you can clearly see the clock in a photo featuring Ken Douglas (a popular British jock at the time) and the Mighty Mitch Michael (Terrell Metheny) from the mid 1960s. Like Chicken Man, the clocks were everywhere.
Today, the clocks are somewhat of a collector's item. When the service was discontinued, the Self-Winding Clock Company of New York announced that they did not want the clocks back, so employees at radio & TV stations across the country began taking them home. The clocks often pop up on eBay and I saw a "broadcast model" go for as much as $595. There are even kits that you can purchase which will emulate the hourly synchronization process and "pulse" the clock at the top of the hour. The kits attach to your computer to receive the correct time via the Internet. In an age where clocks and watches can silently synchronize to an atomic standard, there is just something wonderfully enchanting about those old ticking, winding, clunking mechanical clocks. Tick-tock, whirl, clunk, thunk.
Even though I did much of my research for this post on Google I got my first real look at these clocks at WAKY. The late Ernest K. "Doc" Dockery was an engineer at WAKY during the early '70s. He took note of my interest in the Western Union clocks, removed the cover and explained the inner workings and service. Later, when I was working for WFPL & WFPK, another engineer, the late Jesse D. Burd, or J-Burd (Geez, I hate it that these guys are gone) had me assist him in wiring the clock so that we could continue synchronizing it, manually, from the board after the service had stopped. We would monitor NPR for specific tones and press a button to sync the clock in much the same way as Western Union had done. J-Burd later went on to work at WHAS and even worked with Mike Griffin.
Ben Pflederer, who also goes by the name of "Rudy" on this board, and who happens to still be with us (because only the good die young ) was an engineer for WAKY during the station's time at the Kentucky Home Life Building. Somewhere on the WAKY tribute site Ben has made mention of once having tapped the solenoid of the Western Union clock so that when it did its top of the hour synchronization it would simultaneously cause a tone to transmit over WAKY. Ben may see this post and will hopefully elaborate in the thread. Of course, in this age of atomic time standards the question still remains:
"Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care?" (Chicago)
If you would like to see a color image of the clock up close and its internal parts, the URL below is typical of those I found using Google.
www.prc68.com/I/SWCC2.shtml
The clock in the control room was right next to the door and right over the chair where I would sat when hanging out with the likes of Mike Griffin, Steven Lee Cook, Jim Miller, Kevin McCarthy and whoever. Some of the jocks had a tendency to open the mic well in advance of saying anything and opening the mic would mute the monitor and the room would be dead silent for a few seconds until the jock would finally speak. During that silence, the clock above my head could be heard ticking. Hidden inside was a pendulum which supported a large lead weight. Each swing of the pendulum caused the second hand to jump in half-second increments, and produced the clicking or ticking sound. And quite often, another sound could be heard during the open mic silence. Every seven and a half minutes the clock could be heard winding itself up. It wasn't quite loud enough to be heard over the air, but it could certainly be heard in the room. And that wasn't all. Every hour, at the top of the hour, a large solenoid inside the clock would become energized and lock both the second and hour hands straight up over the number 12 while a bright red light would illuminate over the number 6. When the time was exactly straight up, right to the second, the solenoid would release the hands and the clock would resume running, but now the time was right on the money. This happened every hour, on the hour, to keep the time as accurate to the second as possible.
The clocks were known as Western Union self-winding clocks and were manufactured by the Self-Winding Clock Company of New York. The company manufactured other clocks of this type, but the ones at WAKY were specifically designed for use in radio and TV studios. What set these clocks apart from others was that they were designed to run quieter by self-winding every seven and a half minutes, rather than all at once at the top of the hour. I'm still not sure if I understand how this made the broadcast models quieter, but in researching the clocks for this post (via Google) that's the info I came across at several sites. The broadcast models also featured a thick layer of sound absorbing felt which lined the inside of the face cover and dampened the ticking, winding, etc., considerably.
Basically, there was a sub-master clock located at a Western Union office somewhere in town. The sub-master was kept synchronized by a regional master and the regional master was kept synchronized by the master clock located at the U.S Naval Observatory in Maryland or Washington D.C. The time on the clocks at WAKY were considered to be U.S. Naval Observatory time and those words were printed across the lower face of the clocks. Each of the clocks at WAKY were connected to something like a phone line which led to the sub-master clock at the Western Union Office. At just about the top of the hour, say... 11:59:59 PM, a small amount of current would enter the clocks via the line from the sub-master at Western Union. The current would close a relay causing two large dry cell batteries (located inside the clocks) to energize the solenoid and illuminate the red light over the number 6. The minute and second hands would lock straight up over the 12 and hold until the time was exactly, say... 12:00:00 AM at which time the current from Western Union would stop, causing the solenoid to release the hands back to the pendulum and movement would resume. The two internal dry cell batteries not only provided the power for the top of the hour synchronizations but also wound the clocks pendulum spring every seven and a half minutes. There was no AC power used with these clocks. The batteries were good for something like seven years and the clocks, and the synchronization service, were leased to WAKY and other stations for something like $25 per year. Maintenance and battery replacement were even included.
The Western Union Self-Winding Clocks were used in many radio and TV stations across the country from sometime around the 1930s to early 1973. The clock can clearly be seen in many of the photos that were taken at WAKY's Kentucky Home Life Building location, but oddly enough, the clock was not captured in any of the images taken at the Fourth Street location. If the service had not been discontinued in early 1973, the clock would have been captured in one of the images showing Johnny Randolph at the WAKY control board in April of '73 (page 8 of the photo section at the time of this writing). In that image, a newer clock can be seen where the old Western Union clock once hung; right next to the studio door and just above where I had once sat with the jocks just a year before. The clocks were present at WKLO as well. Take a look at page 3 (at the time of this writing) of the photo section at 1080WKLO.com and you can clearly see the clock in a photo featuring Ken Douglas (a popular British jock at the time) and the Mighty Mitch Michael (Terrell Metheny) from the mid 1960s. Like Chicken Man, the clocks were everywhere.
Today, the clocks are somewhat of a collector's item. When the service was discontinued, the Self-Winding Clock Company of New York announced that they did not want the clocks back, so employees at radio & TV stations across the country began taking them home. The clocks often pop up on eBay and I saw a "broadcast model" go for as much as $595. There are even kits that you can purchase which will emulate the hourly synchronization process and "pulse" the clock at the top of the hour. The kits attach to your computer to receive the correct time via the Internet. In an age where clocks and watches can silently synchronize to an atomic standard, there is just something wonderfully enchanting about those old ticking, winding, clunking mechanical clocks. Tick-tock, whirl, clunk, thunk.
Even though I did much of my research for this post on Google I got my first real look at these clocks at WAKY. The late Ernest K. "Doc" Dockery was an engineer at WAKY during the early '70s. He took note of my interest in the Western Union clocks, removed the cover and explained the inner workings and service. Later, when I was working for WFPL & WFPK, another engineer, the late Jesse D. Burd, or J-Burd (Geez, I hate it that these guys are gone) had me assist him in wiring the clock so that we could continue synchronizing it, manually, from the board after the service had stopped. We would monitor NPR for specific tones and press a button to sync the clock in much the same way as Western Union had done. J-Burd later went on to work at WHAS and even worked with Mike Griffin.
Ben Pflederer, who also goes by the name of "Rudy" on this board, and who happens to still be with us (because only the good die young ) was an engineer for WAKY during the station's time at the Kentucky Home Life Building. Somewhere on the WAKY tribute site Ben has made mention of once having tapped the solenoid of the Western Union clock so that when it did its top of the hour synchronization it would simultaneously cause a tone to transmit over WAKY. Ben may see this post and will hopefully elaborate in the thread. Of course, in this age of atomic time standards the question still remains:
"Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care?" (Chicago)
If you would like to see a color image of the clock up close and its internal parts, the URL below is typical of those I found using Google.
www.prc68.com/I/SWCC2.shtml