Things I Found in my Mother-in-Law’s House: The Kitchen

Here are this week’s notes for the “Things I Found in my Mother-in-Law’s House” segment that will be on between 4:30 and 5 p.m. today on CBC Saskatchewan’s Afternoon Edition. In the radio version, the segment about the aluminum coffee pot got left out, so that’s your special blog bonus for the week! (And again, I hope to add photos soon.)

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Ed Willett has been exploring the recesses of his mother-in-law’s house, which has been in the same family for almost 70 years, in a kind of archaeological expedition into every-day life of the early to mid-20th century. Last week Ed took me down into the basement, but this week we’re staying on the main floor for a look at some of the interesting objects he’s come across in the kitchen.

Ed, you don’t have to look very hard in here to find an interesting old artifact. That is a great old refrigerator.

It is, isn’t it? And it’s been sitting in that same spot, keeping food cold and freezing ice, for 53 years now: it was purchased in the fall of 1955 (we have the owner’s manual with the date noted on the cover).

But what’s really interesting about it is the brand: it’s an International Harvester. Not a name one usually associates with refrigerators.

No, we usually think of the company in terms of agricultural equipment. But in fact there was a logical connection.

First of all, International Harvester was hardly alone among equipment manufacturers in making refrigeration equipment–I figure it’s because they all involved motors of some kind. Ford had the York brand, Chrysler had Tecumseh Products and AirTemp, General Motors had Frigidaire, and American Motorshad Kelvinator.

International Harvester didn’t start out intending to make refrigerators (and air conditioners, and freezers, which they also manufactured) for home use. Their original market was farmers, many of whom were just beginning to get electricity through one of the rural electrification projects of mid-century. They offered milk coolers and walk-in freezers for produce and meat, and moved from there into the kitchen–probably mostly farm kitchens–with refrigerators like this one. They even had a trademarked spokesperson, Irma Harding (somehow I suspect that was a nom de advertising), a home economist who would promote the value of the company’s home appliances to audiences around the country. But the reason you don’t see very many IH refrigerators is that they only made them for eight years, from 1947 to 1955, at which time they sold their refrigeration division to Whirlpool.

This one still runs great. It’s not frost-free, but it does have an automatic defrost system and it holds lots of stuff.

Is that the only interesting old appliance you found in here?

Not hardly. Here are two vintage toasters, only separated by about 30 years. This old “swing” type, with two doors you could put your bread into and them flip them up next to the elements inside, is a Hotpoint, which by 1913 was (at least according to their advertising) “the largest exclusive manufacturers of electrically heated household appliances in the world.” Hotpoint was started by Earl Richardson, who was plant superintendant of the power company in Ontario, California. When he was out reading meters, he’d talk to housewives about the possibility of an electric iron. They didn’t like anything that was available yet, so he worked on making a smaller, lighter model. His goal wasn’t just to help housewives, of course: he also realized that if more people started using electrical appliances, there’d be more demand for the power his plant produced, and then perhaps–imagine!–the power company might be able to operate around the clock.

His first iron had a flaw: it overheated in the center. His wife suggested altering it so any excess heat ended up in the point, where it could be used to press buttonholes, pleats, and the like. He made the change, and the new iron with the “hot point” was a success–and a company was born.

Hotpoint was taken over by Edison/General Electric in the late teens. This one dates to about 1927: I think it’s a Hotpoint 125T22 “Toast-over Toaster,” which, according to a pamphlet of the ime, could “toast two slices of the 1 1/2 pound baker’s loaf at once without handling. “When one side of the toast become toasted, the untoasted side is put into position by opening and closing the bred holder–simply turn the knob.” Oh, and the price? $6, according to an ad in the Saturday Evening Post from March, 1926. “Also has a convenient switch in the cord for turning the current on and off.” Remember: “Toast is Healthful.”

That second toaster looks very modern.

It does, doesn’t it? But it’s probably as old as I am, since this model of Sunbeam “Radiant Heat” toaster first appeared about 1958. It’s a T-35, which was an ubdated version of the T-20. What made the T-20 and its descendants special was the fact that they were first fully automatic toasters. Allow me to demonstrate: drop in the bread, and it sinks down of its own accord and the toaster turns itself on. No need to push down a lever. Not only that, the T-20 was one of the first to use a bi-metallic heat-sensitive device to check the temperature of the bread slice as opposed to the temperature of the toaster, which was supposed to prevent the bread from burning. The T-35 gave way to the VT40 in 1962, so I suspect this toaster was brand-new around 1960, just like me. And, dare I say it, just like me, it’s as hot as ever.

Sorry.

That’s a pretty old coffee pot, too. Do you still use it?

Um, no. We have a modern coffee maker. But I’m sure you could make coffee in this: it’s an all-aluminum pot from sometime, I think, in the 1920s–I couldn’t find this particular style online anywhere, but it’s a WearEver brand, which was made by the Aluminum Company of America, better known as ALCOA, and ased on the trademark stamped on the bottom of this pot, I can date it to somewhere between 1910 and 1927. It was probably something Sam and Nancy Goodfellow, my wife’s grandparents, owned early in their married lives.

WearEver began life in 1902 as The Aluminum Cooking Utensil Company. The WearEver brand was introduced in 1903. Originally it was sold door to door by “a direct sales force mostly made of men going to College,” according to the company website. Robert Perry took WearEver cookware with him on his second trip to the North Pole, that presumably not this particular pot. By 1941, WearEver accounted for more than 40 percent of the aluminum cookware business in the United States. It’s still being made today, though no longer by Alcoa.

Does that iron date to about the same period?

As near as I can tell. It’s a Samson Panel-Matic DeLux electric iron, “With Automatic Heat Control,” and there’s an ad for it–or one very much like it–in the September 19, 1930 edition of the Granby, Quebec, Leader-Mail. Interestingly enough, in view of the Hotpoint history I mentioned earlier, the ad was purchased by “Southern Canada Power Company Limited,” which apparently sold electrical appliances in order to justify its own existence. The iron, the ad says, is “beautiful to look at” and “easy to use” and has 25 different heats to chose from. “Cannot overheat, cannot scorch,” the ad says. Best of all, you pay just 50 cents down and 75 cents a month until $9.50 was paid, or you could put cash on the barrel head and take one away for $8.95.

You’ve certainly found some amazing old appliances, Ed.

The most amazing thing to me is that we’re still using two of them, the refrigerator and the Sunbeam toaster. And until recently we were using a kettle from the same period. Probably some of these other things would still work, but…I don’t think I’ll be plugging them in.

I’m afraid the results might be shocking.