I’ve just finished reading it this morning (from cover to cover, though I admit I haven’t finished the crossword yet) and it is truly fantastic! There’s so much to love inside its pages. My favorite parts were the poem (who doesn’t love a good clown story?!), numbers 9 and 11 of Tom Hanks’ “Eleven Reasons to Use a Typewriter” and Sarah Everett‘s essay about Barbie typewriters which has the cleverest of titles.
It’s so jam-packed with typewriter-y and analog goodness that the editor didn’t have the space to include a table of contents, so for those who need one, I’ve typewritten one which I’m including below.
The limited zine release has 500 numbered copies. Brian got the first two copies, Tom Hanks snagged numbers 3, 4, and 5. First in line, I managed to get issue number 6. I saw Michael Hanttula swipe number 7, and Lyn, who had just purchased a lovely duo-toned gray Royal Royalite typewriter moments before, got number 8. Which number(s) will you collect?
Because there really ought to be an issue number 2 and 3, I’m already brainstorming things that I might type up for them. And if somehow that doesn’t happen, then they’ll just have to go into my own zine…
Usually it’s only portable typewriters that come with cases. But often unseen and unsaved are the “cases” that came with the larger standard typewriters. These are usually unseen because they were heavy wooden crates that standard typewriters were originally shipped in, but which the dealer discarded or recycled once a customer bought their typewriter.
The crate has the company logo and some advertising as well as a typewriter stamped/embossed with ink into the larger front and back sides as well as some unpacking instructions and a handle with care admonishment on the top. The two short sides of the crate have “handles” carved into the wood to make it easier to carry. But “easy” is a tough word to use as unloaded, the crate itself weighs in at 15.9 pounds which is roughly what a portable typewriter might weigh by itself. If you add the 34.2 pounds of my Woodstock No. 5 typewriter to it, you’re looking at an overall weight of just over 50 pounds.
Of interest, the top of the crate indicates that although it should be shipped “This side up”, to remove the typewriter, one should flip the crate over and remove the 12 wood screws holding the bottom of the crate on. This allows access to four cross braces that are locked into the crate by the bottom. The braces have four large screws in them which would have held the typewriter physically bolted into the case upside down. Presumably, one would have removed the typewriter and the cross braces as a unit and then removed the four bolts to allow the typewriter to be either placed onto or bolted into a desk depending on the desk type.
I’m unsure of the age of the crate and don’t have much in terms of provenance. The typewriter pictured on the case seems to be an early version of the Woodstock No. 5 between 1916 and 1931 when the typewriter had openings on the side of the machine. After 1931 these openings were supplied with covers and after 1936 they had removable hoods which covered the typebasket, a feature that isn’t depicted on this crate.
My 1938 Woodstock only has two bolt holes on the bottom which presumably would have been used to bolt it into a desk (or in shipping). Looking at earlier models of Woodstock machines might help to narrow down the age range of this crate by finding machines which would have used all four bolts/screws in this crate to dovetail with the bottoms of those machines.
Condition
The crate isn’t in bad shape given that it’s likely an antique at this point. There is some obvious wear to the wood as well as patina, but the writing and images are fairly clear. The shipping label on the top is nearly worn off and only partially legible. The edges of some of the wood are worn and the top is missing most of its original nails, but this allows one to easily open up the crate and use a portion of the top as a “lid”. Only four of the original wood screws are present to hold the bottom of the crate on and the cross-braces locked into place.
Display in the collection
I’m not yet sure how I’ll use or display this crate with the rest of my typewriter collection. It has been sitting on the floor next to one of my reading chairs and it’s actually tall enough that it functions pretty well as a side table to hold a book, some notes, and the occasional glass of whisky. Once I’ve blown out the dirt and dust inside it and removed the four inconvenient packing screws, I might use the crate to store some books. It could probably also hold two or three 1970s era portable typewriters in their cases too…
Do you have any crates in your collection? How do you display them? What alternate use cases do you employ them in?
Tonight, I noticed you can’t spell typewriter in German without IBM: SchreIBMaschinen. Surely that ran across someone’s mind before in an advertising campaign, right?
Clicky-clack, we are bringing the typewriters back on Saturday, June 27, from 12 pm to 5 pm, in celebration of National Typewriter Day!
Experience the timeless beauty of typewriters as you test your speed and precision in a typewriter contest, hear from typewriter experts, join in the collaborative process of writing “never-ending tales” on vintage typewriters, look for hidden gems in our scavenger hunt, and much more.
Local vendors and makers are offering typo-o-grams, original poetry, themed merch, retro treasures, hand-crafted greeting cards, and even fully working typewriters for sale. Guests can bring their own typewriter to show, share, use, or get an estimate for repair.
There’s something uniquely inspiring about the sound and feel of these classic machines! Special thanks to Typewriter Connection, our event co-host.
Tickets are $15 for adults, or $12 for students/seniors.
Last year’s event was fantastic, so I’m looking forward to all the things on “tap, tap, tap” for this year. Come and celebrate National Typewriter Day in Southern California.
The Stanley Kramer comedy classic film It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (United Artists, 1963) has a handful of Royal KMG typewriters featured in the office settings at police stations throughout the film. The KMG was Royal’s top-of-the-line office standard machine and was manufactured from 1949 to 1952 before being replaced by the Royal HH (1952 to 1957) and the Royal FP (1957to 1962). By the time the film premiered in November of 1963, the newest desktop manual would have been the Royal Empress (1962-1966).
The featured Royal KMG of the film sits in the center of Capt. T. G. Culpeper’s (portrayed by Spencer Tracy) squad room and another appears in the background there.
Another Royal KMG appears in the sheriff’s office of Crockett Country with the Sheriff portrayed by well known character actor Andy Devine.
Andy Devine as the old sheriff with bushy gray eyebrows and a reddish face is on a black rotary desk phone in his office as a closely cropped deputy sits behind him at a desk where we see the left side of a gray Royal KMG typewriter in the background.
Of tangential note, comedian and writer Carl Reiner, who portrays the tower controller at Rancho Conejo at which Mickey Rooney and Buddy Hackett attempt to land their airplane, is known to have have used a Royal KMG, though one doesn’t appear in any of his scenes in the air traffic control tower.
Serial Number: 46-0171787
Olympia Pica No. 12 typeface, 10 pitch, 2.6m/m, 6 lines/inch, keyset tabulator, half-space spacing, vertical spacing, portable, bichrome, segment shift, American keyboard, 44 keys, 88 characters, white and gray plastic body with grey hood and gray plastic keys with white characters
Manufactured in Wilhelmshaven, Germany
I acquired this at thrift for $21.95 on 2026-05-10 for Mother’s Day in immaculate condition! It’s as if someone used it to type up a few essays then put it in the case for 49 years. Other than some minor wear, this may be the singularly cleanest typewriter I’ve ever purchased. As my first typebar electric Olympia, I was so looking forward to taking it apart and giving it a full clean, oil, and adjust, but beyond wiping off some exterior dust, this machine really needs no work. I’m both disappointed and elated at the same time.
“Now listen to this.
The gentle and soothing lullaby of a piece of machinery so perfect –”
—Frank Navasky, YOU’VE GOT MAIL (Warner Bros., 1998)
Frank Navasky (YOU’VE GOT MAIL (Warner Bros., 1998))
