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The first commercial typewriter, the Sholes and Glidden. |
I remember the clunky Royal manual typewriter sitting in my granny’s study—a relic that always fascinated me as a kid. Its heavy black frame, the satisfying clack of keys, and the little bell that would ping at the end of each line—who would have thought this machine was once a revolutionary device that changed the world? I wish I still had that clunky black machine—a tangible piece of family history that could bridge generations.
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My dad said this is the closest to what my Granny’s typewriter looked like. |
The typewriter’s story is much like my granny’s life—a testament to persistent innovation and unexpected transformations. The journey begins way back in 1714, when Henry Mill, an Englishman, filed a patent for a writing machine that never actually came to life. It would take nearly a century of determined inventors to turn this dream into reality.
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This book was written based on the relationship between Turri and his blind friend, the Contessa. |
The typewriter’s evolution wasn’t a straight path. William Austin Burt’s 1830 typographer was the first writing mechanism patented in the United States, though it never found commercial success. The real breakthrough came in 1868 when Christopher Latham Sholes and his colleagues developed the Sholes and Glidden typewriter—a machine that would gradually reshape how we communicate.
Early typewriters were beasts of machines. Bulky, demanding manual labor, and able to print only in CAPITAL LETTERS—imagine every document sounding like it was being shouted! But they were transformative. The early 20th-century visible typewriter allowed typists to see their work in real time, eliminating the frustration of discovering errors after completing a full page. Electric typewriters followed, dramatically increasing typing speed and reducing physical strain.
Beyond mere mechanics, the typewriter became a powerful catalyst for social change. For women like my granny, it was nothing short of revolutionary. Suddenly, they could step beyond domestic roles, entering the workforce as typists and stenographers. Economic independence wasn't just a dream—it became a tangible reality.
Businesses transformed overnight. Correspondence became faster, more legible, and more organized. Administrative work was streamlined, and record-keeping became exponentially more efficient. The typewriter wasn’t just a tool but a gateway to professional opportunity.
Beyond mere mechanics, the typewriter became a powerful catalyst for social change. For women like my granny, it was nothing short of revolutionary. Suddenly, they could step beyond domestic roles, entering the workforce as typists and stenographers. Economic independence wasn't just a dream—it became a tangible reality.
Businesses transformed overnight. Correspondence became faster, more legible, and more organized. Administrative work was streamlined, and record-keeping became exponentially more efficient. The typewriter wasn’t just a tool but a gateway to professional opportunity.
The most fascinating legacy? The QWERTY keyboard layout we still use today. Originally designed to prevent key jamming in early typewriters, it’s a remarkable testament to how technological limitations can create enduring standards.
Legendary authors like Agatha Christie, Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, and the more contemporary Danielle Steel crafted their iconic works on these machines. I can almost picture my granny, fingers dancing across her Royal S16, creating her own stories—personal narratives lost to time.
When my dad mentioned disposing of the typewriter, I felt a profound sense of loss. But listening to its rich history, I realize the machine’s true value isn’t in its physical presence. It’s in the stories it enabled, the barriers it broke, the connections it fostered.
He told me how they didn’t have laptops and computers when he was growing up, for reference, he was born in 1965, so they had to use the typewriter to type out their school assignments.
When my dad mentioned disposing of the typewriter, I felt a profound sense of loss. But listening to its rich history, I realize the machine’s true value isn’t in its physical presence. It’s in the stories it enabled, the barriers it broke, the connections it fostered.
He told me how they didn’t have laptops and computers when he was growing up, for reference, he was born in 1965, so they had to use the typewriter to type out their school assignments.
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My Granny |
While computers have largely replaced typewriters, their impact remains immeasurable. From enabling more accessible communication to providing women with professional opportunities, the typewriter was more than just a machine—it was a catalyst for change.
Just like my granny’s life, the typewriter’s story is about resilience, innovation, and the unexpected ways we connect and communicate.
And who knows? Maybe someday, our iPhones and MacBooks will sit in someone’s home, telling stories about our era of communication.