The Toys That Made Us Tinker

Let’s kick off this article with some nuggets of knowledge and tidbits of trivia. Have you ever heard the term “flea market”? If so, have you ever wondered where this expression came from? In fact, it has several disputed origins. According to the Britannica, “The most common explanation is that the term is a translation of the French marché aux puces (literally 'market of fleas'), so-named for the pests that were thought to infest the upholstery of second-hand furniture sold at such markets.” Bear this in mind for a moment (I’ll tell you when you can forget it again).

In the days of wired telegraphy, long before radio appeared on the scene (say between the late 1830s and the early 1900s), the term “ham” was used to describe an operator with poor Morse code sending skills. This was a common descriptor for a clumsy operator whose "fist" (sending style) was bad, hence "ham-fisted."

The inventors of wireless radio communication (Marconi, Tesla, and others) began demonstrating practical signals in the 1890s, but radio didn’t become widespread for commercial or public use until the 1910s to 1920s.

When the use of radio started to spread, professional radio operators often found amateur stations to be a nuisance due to their interference. They considered amateur operators to be unskilled, so they referred to them as "hams." The amusing thing is that this term ultimately became adopted by the amateur operators, who claimed it as a badge of pride, resulting in "ham radio" becoming the informal name for amateur radio.

Furthermore, the term “hamfest” refers to a convention for ham radio enthusiasts, featuring a flea market (which is why I introduced this term earlier — it’s OK, you can forget it now) where equipment can be bought, sold, and traded. These events also act as venues for educational seminars and provide opportunities to take amateur radio license exams.

As fate would have it, just a couple of weeks ago, as I pen these words, I attended the Huntsville Hamfest 2025 event. This is a great place to pick up antique components, such as the large vacuum tubes (see also my Vunderful Vacuum Tubes column) and analog meters I use for projects like my Phantasmagorical and Pedagogical Prognostication Engine (don’t ask!).

This bodacious beauty is presented in a wooden radio cabinet from 1929. Since there wasn’t enough room in the main cabinet for what I intended, my friend “Carpenter Bob” crafted the box that sits on top for me, including the frilly bits and the hand-carved rosettes on the front. But we digress…

Why am I waffling about all this? Do you recall my first column in our Throwback Thursdays series? I’m talking about my Bodacious Wooden Breadboards article. Well, while I was meandering my way around the Huntsville Hamfest, I ran across the most gorgeous breadboard-based electronic system I’ve ever seen. This was an Atwater Kent Model 10 Breadboard Radio dating from the 1920s.

I’m afraid this picture doesn’t do it justice. Suffice it to say that the Atwater Kent Model 10 is a sought-after collector's item. It’s admired for its craftsmanship and historical significance, and examples in good condition can fetch prices ranging from $1,200 to $1,900, depending on the model and condition. This one was in as good a condition as you can get. I’m sure I could have picked it up for only $1,000… if only I’d had $1,000… but I didn’t, so I didn’t, if you see what I mean.

If you are interested in seeing one of these bodacious beauties in action, a detailed discussion, description, and demonstration is presented in the following video.

I don’t know why, but it’s amazing to hear broadcasts from one of today’s local stations emanating from this 100-year-old radio. I also don’t know why these modern signals manage to sound like they are coming from 100 years ago.

The Atwater Kent Model 10 Breadboard Radio was not a toy. It was a serious piece of radio equipment designed for engineers, early electronics enthusiasts, and technically inclined hobbyists. On the other hand, it did prompt me to start thinking about some of the toys I had as a child.

One of the things that kept me busy and quiet for countless hours (although I’m sure that wasn’t my parents’ intention, as I was a delight to be with) was a large Meccano set. Invented in 1901 by Frank Hornby in Liverpool, England, this was initially called “Mechanics Made Easy.” It was subsequently renamed Meccano in 1907. As we read on Wikipedia, “The system consists of reusable metal strips, plates, angle girders, wheels, axles, and gears that are connected using nuts and bolts. It enables the building of working models and mechanical devices.”

The American equivalent is the Erector Set, invented by Alfred Carlton Gilbert, an American inventor, athlete, magician, toy maker, and businessman. This differentiated itself from Meccano sets by the inclusion of an electric motor, which was such a “draw” that the Erector Set quickly became the most popular construction toy in the country.

We first met Alfred in my Springing Into Action With Spring Connectors column. As I wrote in that article, “Over time, the eponymous A.C. Gilbert Company added chemistry sets (with real chemicals), microscope sets, optics kits, physics kits, and atomic energy kits (with real radioactive materials).”

Speaking of chemistry sets, another toy that had the potential to keep me quiet was the set my parents gave me. Why did I qualify the previous sentence with the word “potential”? Well, like Alfred’s sets, this one contained real chemicals, and it’s hard to keep quiet when you have a healthy interest in creating explosives and blowing things up at the far end of the garden (I have no idea how I learned to make things like nitrogen triiodide when I was only around 12 years old — let’s put it down to dubious companions and inquisitive minds).

Do you have one toy from when you were a kid that sticks out in your mind? I do. It was called The Amazing Magic Robot (or, in the case of the one I have here in my office, The Magical Amazing Robot).

This is brilliant, elegant, and lots of other “-ants” all at the same time. It comes with a set of printed pages featuring a circle of questions on the left and a corresponding circle of answers on the right.

You start by placing the little plastic robot in the center of the circle of questions. The robot’s base has a small projecting tooth/pin. A depression in the center of the circle of questions has a shallow recess with a matching notch/slot. The robot holds a pointer in one hand. When you rotate the robot so that its pointer indicates the question of interest, this also rotates an unseen bar magnet that’s hidden in the robot’s base.

Next, you move the robot to the center of the circle of answers. Hidden underneath this shiny-smooth circle is another magnet. When you release the robot, it spins around until the two magnets align, leaving its pointer indicating the correct answer to the question. The trick is that the two magnets (and the questions and their corresponding answers) are offset by 135°.

When you’re a child and you’re selecting questions on a random basis, you simply don’t notice that the answers are always rotated 135° from their associated questions. All I can say is that, as a kid, it was mind-boggling to me how that little robot seemed to know all the answers. If you’d like to see this in action, you can find some great videos on YouTube.

How about you? Are there any toys that stick in your mind? As always, I welcome your captivating comments, querulous questions, and sagacious suggestions, all of which you can share on Hackster's "Throwback Thursdays" Discord channel. I look forward to seeing you there.

P.S. Don't forget that you can peruse and ponder all of my Throwback Thursdays columns here.