Family Organ - Lower Pallets and The Big Test

It's the middle of winter... 

which can only mean that it's organ time again! Well, also that I'm always irritable. But mostly it means that it's time to work on the organ again.

When last winter and my interest waned, the next order of business was to replace the felt and skin on the lower pallets. This is not a particularly difficult task, but it is tedious in that it has to be done 49 times, as there is one pallet for each key. First the old skin and felt must be cut off the pallets, followed by a little sanding to smooth out the surface. Then the pallets are glued to a piece of felt of appropriate width and left for a day. They are separated and the excess felt trimmed off. Then the felt-side of the pallet is glued to pigskin of appropriate width, and the trimming is repeated.

Pallets relieved of their old felt and skin (top)

Gluing the pallets to new felt

Separating and trimming

Gluing the pallets, felt-side down, to pigskin

Finished pallets

Reinstalling pallets to the underside of the reeds. Held in place by springs (left and top)

For anyone curious, there is one small trick to this process. The felt and the skin are not completely glued down. Rather, a thin bead of glue is run down the middle of each so that the felt and skins are only attached down their middle. I'm not sure what sort of calamity would occur if I had simply slathered them with glue and attached them, but I was warned to avoid that by someone that I felt had more knowledge about the matter.

While I'm thinking of it, let me express my gratitude to the pig, which had no idea it would contribute its skin to this project, and, undoubtedly, had even less desire to do so. If the organ is restored to playing condition, you, dear piggy, will have been the most invested contributor. If it cannot be, well, sorry.

The Big Test

Right, at this point the organ is more-or-less playable - or not. It is time to test the progress to this point, especially the bellows and the reeds. If the organ plays, well, then it's an organ. If it does not, well, then... shit. Time to find another project.

So there it is - the project continues!

Dogs that Threaten the Very Fabric of America (Whatever That Means)

I brought over #3 Denius dog, Lottie, for a little play date with Tuna. At first we were all having a great time, rolling around on the floor and biting each other and spitting out fur and whatnot. Well, okay, mostly I watched, but it was still a pretty good time.

But then I noticed the “play” took an ugly turn, and that the dogs were occasionally getting on each other in a more amorous way, if you know what I mean. Now these are both female dogs, so naturally my first response was, “Lesbians”. What on earth was I allowing to go on under my roof? So I told them they had to stop it, but they just looked at me and wagged their tails, which I took to be defiance. I told them they had to do their funny business with male dogs only, but then I realized – there are no male dogs between the two households. So then I thought maybe they weren’t really lesbians, but they were just partaking of love of convenience, like female prisoners sometimes will. And, wouldn’t you know, there are some similarities between prisoners and dogs – they are usually confined, only interact with members of the same sex, get walked a couple times per day. So maybe the dogs were forced into homosexuality by circumstance, which wouldn’t be so bad, I suppose, but still wrong.

But THEN I couldn’t help but notice that Tuna is a small brown dog from Puerto Rico, and Lottie is a white dog from, I don’t know, Illinois, maybe. Actually, she is mostly white with a few tan spots, which is sort of like white people, since we might have brown hair, or tan in the summer, or have freckles, or whatnot. Anyway, the upshot is that not only were they engaging in homosexual love, they were also an interracial couple! Yes! Tuna is obviously Hispanic, and Lottie is a cracker! So I started thinking about what to do about that, since it’s sinful, though I’ve never read in the Bible that it’s sinful, but some people on TV say it is, so I suppose it must be true.

But THEN it occurred to me that Tuna is a rescue dog from Puerto Rico – in other words, a refugee! Now, I’m getting really worried by this point, as our governor, the Honorable Bruce Rauner (R), said that Illinois won’t be taking any refugees, because they might be baddies, and we’re afraid, and I’m sure he said a whole bunch of other stuff, but I sort of stopped listening around then. But refugees are bad, I got that point. So I’m thinking that maybe I have to hide Tuna or I might go to jail, or maybe I should turn her in for a refund, or something.

And THEN it occurred to me that when we got Tuna, she wouldn’t respond to English commands. As she was from Puerto Rico, I figured she must speak Spanish, or maybe dog-Spanish, if there is such a thing. Now that was a couple of years ago, but I thought maybe she still spoke some of that dog-Spanish, so I scolder her, saying, “This is America – English only!” See, we speak only English here because it’s the best language. I’m not sure why this is. I always thought the point of language was to communicate some idea, like, “hey, I found some edible roots over here”, or, “hey, there’s a leopard, looks like he’s about to jump on your back”, so you can do something sensible in response, like go get the roots or step to the side, and I’m pretty sure you can get these points across in other languages. But, someone on TV said English was the best, so I suppose it’s true.

So, I scolded Tuna for being in a lesbian interracial relationship as a dog-Spanish refugee. And she rolled over onto her back so I could rub her belly. She really likes belly rubs. And THEN I remembered that I’m a Bleedin’ Heart Liberal ®. So I gave Tuna and Lottie cookies. Good dogs!

Family Organ: The Reed Assembly - Part 2

Pallets on Hold and Cleaning the Reeds

Last time I mumbled on and on about working the Underneath, and particularly the pallets. However, Johnson & Son, my felt supplier, appears to have gone on hiatus until after the new year, so there's limited work to be done on the pallets. I did make a pallet jig out of scrap wood to use when the felt comes in. The jig will allow me to place a sheet of properly-widthed felt in the right position, and will keep the pallets aligned as glue is applied and the pallets placed:

It can similarly be used to apply the hides over the felts.

With that done, I wait until the appropriate felt comes in, which will be at least a week or two.

The Reeds

Being stymied by the lack of felt doesn't mean there isn't more that can be done. The reeds need to be cleaned. With 49 keys,and two reeds per key, that means 98 reeds will be cleaned. Sigh.

The rear reeds

The reeds are heavily tarnished, and a few have corrosion. The tarnish isn't so much of a concern, but cleaner is better, and the corrosion should be removed. The reeds are somewhat fragile, especially the smaller ones, so the question is how to to effect the clean-up so as to not end up with a pile of scrap brass for your troubles. 

My first strategy was to go with Brasso and a cloth wheel on the Dremel at the lowest speed setting. On the plus side, this was quite effective and resulted in shiny reeds - for the few that were done. The downside is that Brasso is a liquid, so you wind up with Brasso coating your workbench, clothing, face, hair, workshop, and in low-Earth orbit for all I know. 

After a bit of washing up, I consulted THE BOOK. It recommended soaking the reeds in toilet bowl cleaner and then a rubbing with 0000 steel wool. For this approach a commando raid was required; waiting until the wife was otherwise engaged, I pilfered one of her baking dishes and headed for the workshop. Half of the reeds were sent to the blue deep.

A couple of words about this approach. Toilet bowl cleaner has a scent that starts out tolerable enough, but eventually becomes cloying, almost gaggingly so. The plastic wrap over the baking dish helps only marginally. Still, some allowances must be made in the name of progress.

 The other thing is that this stuff is caustic (hence the reason it works, I suppose) and slippery, which requires one to be quite cautious during the "rubbing with steel wool" phase. The larger reeds are quite happy to fling droplets of cleaner onto your face, and the smaller reeds are quite happy to fling their cleaner-coated selves onto your face, workbench, or floor. Fragile they may be, but they also seem to possess a certain suicide-inspired aggressiveness that turns them into daredevils, or perhaps just devils. 

Still, this approach works well enough, though you don't quite wind up with new-penny shininess. Half of the reeds are done, and the other half are currently soaking in their little spa.

Thinking about Reassembly

Casting about for more that could be done now, it occurred to me that it might be time to consider how to put the whole disorganized mess together to make a playable organ. I had numbered the keys and stored them in a box, and set aside various other mysterious parts in one section of workshop, but the organ was dismantled a couple of years ago. My memory is hazy under the best of circumstances, so events that took place a couple of years ago may as well be categorized as "mythology". I had taken some pictures during disassembly with the idea that the pictures would be helpful during reassembly. Undoubtedly they would be helpful - I sure wish I knew where they were.

One starts with what is known and proceeds from there. I knew that the keys went on the reed action (what I had previously referred to as the "reed assembly" before being enlightened by THE BOOK), and that they were numbered, so they could be easily placed. With those in place, along with the front knee levers, the rest of the pieces fell into place fairly quickly.

Difficult to see from the above picture, but I was able to get the keys, mutes, levers, volume control, and linkages - basically all of the really organy parts -  in place and loosely connected. Hurrah!

This turned out to be a useful exercise for a number of reasons. Firstly, it convinced me that I WOULD be able to get the damn thing back together again. That had been sort of a nagging doubt before today. Secondly, it provided some clarity about areas that need to be re-felted. Most of this was pretty well understood before today, but less clear were the places where the felt had been significantly eaten. The clarity comes from seeing where moving pieces come together and need to be muffled. One doesn't want a lot of clunking and thumping to detract from the (ahem) purity of the melodies.

Lastly, it showed me that the organ has a volume control. Who knew??? It is controlled by the knee lever on the right, which opens a panel over the rear reeds. The knee lever on the left controls the mutes on the front reeds (under normal playing only the rear reeds are heard). One can use the volume control to get some moderate increase in volume from the rear reeds, and open the front mutes to get all the reeds going in a thermonuclear cacophony. Dogs will howl!

The Keys

An observation about the keys: They are, happily, in really nice shape. Only one key has a small chip in the front, the rest appear to be entirely sound. The white keys have yellowed over time, and that's how they will stay, but I will clean them up a bit and rub them with 0000 steel wool to make them delightfully smooth.

Cleaned White Keys

The black keys could be repainted, but I'm going to hold off on that for the time being. Plenty of time to guild the lily after the organ is playable.

Family Organ: The Reed Assembly - Part 1

Teaser

At this end of this post is a video that has an exciting demonstration (exciting being relative, of course).

Working on the Underneath

The next phase of organ restoration focuses on the reed assembly. This is the part of the organ that has the reeds (obviously), but also lots of moving parts which may or may not move at this moment, felt that has been eaten by bugs to the point where it isn't felting much of anything, fragile pins that will snap if I look at them very hard, and the most incredible musty smell. I'm hoping some of the mustiness fades as parts are cleaned or replaced, else I may have to dip the whole shebang into a barrel of Febreze, or possibly battery acid.

I'm dividing the assembly into the Overneath and the Underneath, and will turn to the Underneath first. Once the Underneath is completed I can attach the reed assembly to the bellows assembly, and in turn attach both parts to the carcass, which will provide a more stable work platform for the Overneath and will protect the aforementioned fragile pins. Plus it will look cool and give the appearance of much progress, and I'll be able to play notes, though not with keys at first. I'm all about getting small rewards along the way.

The Underneath actually requires one type of repair, but it is pretty substantial. There are 49 pallets acting as valves. They cover the reeds and regulate the flow of air through each reed chamber. The pallets are held in place by pallet springs, which also keep them in position. When an organ key is depressed, the pallet is opened and air is sucked through the corresponding reed making noise, or perhaps music. When the key is released the pallet spring pushed the pallet to the closed position, and the air suckage stops.

Underneath - with one pallet on the left removed

Underneath - with all pallets removed, but springs still in place

 Each pallet has a piece of felt attached, and the felt is covered by a piece of thin hide. Most of the felt is in poor shape, so each will be replaced. This will require the hides to be replaced as well.

Getting Instructions - At Last!

To this point I have been using my wits to figure out how to get the organ apart and restored. Though it has been fun to figure things out, it is also often frustrating and time consuming. As several of my family members will no doubt confirm, my wit only goes so far. 

You may imagine my great joy when I found a very good organ restoration resource on the Web: http://www.pumporganrestorations.com/reed_organ_materials.htm. I called Johnson & Son hoping to get some replacement parts, especially the appropriate felt, and some advice. I don't know if I talked with Johnson or Son, but whoever it was was very understanding and helpful. I let him know that I didn't know very much, and started talking about pallets. After just a few minutes of conversation, he let me know that I had overstated my knowledge considerably. Though he didn't quite come out and say it, I could tell what he was thinking: "You know nothing, Jon Snow."

While he didn't want to spend his life instructing me over the phone, he did tell me about a BOOK:

I have rarely felt such elation.

Armed with this, a piece of lambskin, and with some felt from Johnson & Son, I am ready to repair the pallets.

Bonus Video!

This video doesn't really add to the information above, but I am pleased to present a short demonstration. It pretty much made my day.

Family Organ - The Bellows

The Bellows

After finishing up on the carcass, the next step was to take a look at the bellows assembly. I'm not able to find a lot of information on the name of the parts of a bellows just by searching, and Wikipedia was uncharacteristically of minor help, so my apologies in advance for errors in nomenclature. Clearly there is a large opportunity for someone to educate the world on bellows minutiae, but that someone won't be me except for what is included here.

As I said in a previous post, one of the pleasures of working on the family organ is learning how it all works. Unfortunately for you, dear person who is reading this, I feel the need to share that acquired knowledge with you. Might want to grab some coffee.

This post is a bit long, so my apologies. I tried to insert some internal links to let you jump around, but blogspot wasn't understanding what I was trying to do.

General Bellows Functioning

In general, a bellows has an air chamber that is accessed via baffles, or holes, that allow for air flow into and out of the bellows, and valves that cover the baffles to direct and limit the flow of air. In something like a fireplace or forge bellows, the bellows is filled by the user expanding it - the valves open to allow air from the outside to fill the interior. When the user compresses the bellows, the valves close and air is forced out through a nozzle. There is, of course, also a valve on the nozzle to prevent air from entering the air chamber via the nozzle while expanding the bellows. Still awake here? Air flows in one direction, from the outside through the nozzle.

The bellows on the family organ works a bit differently than a fireplace or forge bellows, but of course follows the same general principles.

Organ Bellows Functioning

The organ bellows assembly consists of two principal parts - the actual pair of bellows that are worked by the foot pedals, and an air chamber, or vacuum chamber, that sits above the bellows. These parts will be shown below.

The picture below shows the organ's two bellows. The strips of pigskin on top are the valves covering the lower baffles. There are another set of baffles and valves (the upper baffles) on the inside.

This is a picture of the vacuum chamber:

In the above picture you can see the top baffles. The top valves are under the baffles, on the inside of the bellows.

When the organist presses on a pedal, one of the bellows is forced to expand. The lower valve seals, restricting air from going into the bellows through the lower baffles. The upper valve relaxes, permitting the bellows to draw in air from the vacuum chamber, filling the bellows. When the organist relaxes the pressure on the pedal and allows it to return to position, a spring on the bellows forces the bellows to contract. During contraction, the lower valve relaxes and allows air from the inside of the bellows to pass to the outside, while the upper valve restricts air from returning up to the vacuum chamber. Thus, the direction of airflow is from the vacuum chamber to the outside, and a vacuum is created inside the vacuum chamber. This vacuum draws air in from the outside through the reed assembly, very conveniently, and, if organ keys are pressed and all goes well, the reeds vibrate and make a lovely racket.

Organ Bellows Restoration

Now having a pretty good idea of how everything is suppose to work, attention turns to our sad little artifact. I was very pleased (exceptionally pleased!) to discover that the bellows assembly was not in bad condition. It was filthy - evidently the bellows were prime nesting and/or shitting grounds for mice. Perhaps they enjoyed running in and out of the baffles. All of the pigskin valves were eaten away to a greater or lesser degree and needed replacing, and the springs that held the valves taut were corroded. 

However, the rubberized cloth that formed the walls of the bellows and the vacuum chamber appeared to be in fairly good condition and could be retained. The rubberized cloth would have been a colossal pain in my ass to replace, so, you know, whew! Even if it fails later (the rubberized cloth, not my ass), I'll probably just use a bicycle inner tube repair kit to patch it up.

Replacing the lower valves would be a small matter, as they are on the outside and easily accessible. Cleaning inside of the bellows and replacing the upper valves entailed a bit of bellows spelunking. The rubberized cloth forming the bellows was carefully separated from the chassis allow access to the interior:

One can also see the remains of one of the lower valves and lower baffles to the left in the above picture.

The bellows interior was cleaned with bleach to remove the blech, and the valves and valve springs were replaced:

I would be remiss if I neglect to honor the pig that provided the pigskin for the new valves and other coverings. The pig was clearly the most deeply invested participant in this project!

New valve springs were bent from steel spring rods:

Reassembly commenced (note the bellows springs have been reattached - the wooden square in the corner of the bellows attaches it):

And, presto! Mischief managed!

Following all of this, I positioned the bellows assembly in the carcass, attached the pedals, and gave it a little test:

The Family Organ - Brief History

The Family Organ - Brief History

It occurs to me that documenting a little history of the organ might be good, though my knowledge is very limited. Sadly, the people who knew the most about how it came into the family have passed now, but my Uncle Harold told me what little I know about it when I decided to give the restoration a try a few years ago. I'm hopeful that other family members can add some details. 

The organ was made by the Estey Organ Company of Brattleboro, VT. The company made mostly reed organs, but also some pipe and electronic organs, for over 100 years until 1960 (or so). And, of course, it made portable organs for home and the military (field organs). These organs might commonly have been used by army chaplains with units in the field. Much more on the Estey Organ Company can be found at the Estey Organ Museum web site. 

The particular organ I'm working on was purchased new for my grandmother by my Uncle Harold in Oklahoma City in around 1940. The serial number confirms the date of manufacture at between 1935-1940. Here is a picture of our organ's paper label, with a couple of reeds thrown in as a bonus:

According to my uncle, my grandmother "rocked the house" when she played on it. Unfortunately, I never got to hear her play. It's a small organ, so she must have really put a thumpin' on it to rock the house.

I remember playing on the organ (well - playing around on it, not actually producing a recognizable tune) at my uncle's house on S. W. 32nd Street in the late 1960's, and assume that it was playable for some years after that.

However, in later years it was clearly deteriorating - some reeds would not sound anymore, and one of the leather air vent covers on the bellows had been tacked into place instead of held taut by a wire spring as it should have been. The mystery of the non-functional reeds was perhaps solved when I started cleaning the reeds and found that cellophane, most likely from a cigarette wrapper, and other debris had been sucked into the reed chambers. By the way, this discovery was part of my learning process - I had always assumed that the bellows blew air through the reeds, but that is incorrect. The bellows suck air out of an air chamber below the reeds, creating a bit of a vacuum, which in turn sucks air (and anything else in the neighborhood, like cigarette wrappers) through the reeds. Learning how the organ functions is one of the very enjoyable side-benefits of working on it!

Apparently in 1980, give or take, the organ was moved out to a shed in the back yard where mice, termites, and other vermin took their turn playing on it. They were unkind performers! 

Fortunately the reeds and the reed housing appear to be sound, and the bellows aren't too bad, or there would have been no saving it. And I'm still not sure that it IS salvageable, but my confidence increases with each small, successful step in putting it back together!

Restoring the Family Organ - the Carcass

Restoring the Family Organ - the Carcass

After a few years of thinking about how to go about this project, I finally decided that a good first step would be to repair the carcass. This mostly involves replacing panels, as the old panels were too eaten or rotten to be preserved, but any original portions that were solid would be retained. Essentially this meant that the carcass base, including the pedals, would be replaced, while the upper portion would be preserved. Also, rather than try to replicate the original blue cloth covering, I decided to use red oak plywood and finish it with a clear polyurethane. Provides some (IMO) attractive contrast, while also highlighting just how much had to be replaced.

The carcass is relatively easy to reconstruct, but does not mean a lot as to whether the organ will eventually be playable. However, I was able to get the reeds to sound by blowing into them, so I'm pretty optimistic on that count. Still lots to do with repairing the bellows and the reed assembly. The carcass is relatively fun, what with cutting and assembling big panels, getting lots of sawdust and glue all over the place, and seeing what *appears* to be a lot of progress in a short amount of time. Repairing the reed assembly and bellows, on the other hand, will be tedious, tricky, detailed work. But more on that to come.

Original and replacement parts

The bottom (I had to cut out the pedals, which is the reason for the slots in the original bottom).

Unfinished assembly - back and sides:

Pedals - the original treads and straps were reused! We'll see how long the straps last, but they're pretty easy to replace if they break.

Assembling with finished lower carcass, but keeping the original upper portion. The blue supports on the front of the lower portion are also original.

Replaced the buckles. It will be interesting to see how long the original hinges last. With a little oil, it may be a while before they go.

Last addition to this point: Making a new handle. I don't recall the organ ever having a handle, but pictures of other similar organs show a handle, and the holes for the handle were there, so it pretty clearly had one at one time, but no idea when it disappeared. The shape is correct based on pictures, but I had to guess on the size. It's close, I think. Maybe. (On the right side you can see the reed assembly. Its time is coming...)

Oh, FYI - the original lower carcass sides and back - not pretty: