History with Monica McGill: First patent for typewriter taken out in 1714
An IBM Selectric 1

History with Monica McGill: First patent for typewriter taken out in 1714

ONCE upon a time in the office, this article was first produced on a laptop computer.

However, typists, journalists and writers of a certain age may remember producing work on a much less high-falutin’ device – the manual typewriter.

Once upon a time any business-like office in Ireland had at least one typewriter – and someone who could use it effectively.

In the 1970s office in Ireland, a manual typewriter was a beast of a yoke – heavy, noisy and cumbersome.

If your touch on the keys was uneven, your work would look awful and “the boss” probably wouldn’t sign the letter if he had any respect for his company’s image.

(Back then, few women had a managerial role in businesses in Ireland.)

It is said that the first patent for a typewriter was taken out in 1714, and the first “Qwerty” keyboard was manufactured in 1873, becoming the standard keyboard throughout the English-speaking world.

An Underwood manual type-writer. (Photo: Vintage Typewriters Ireland)

Initially, women weren’t widely employed in the role of typist.

The social changes brought about by World Wars 1 and 2 altered matters, including official recognition of the natural dexterity of the average female hand.

Special keyboards using the iconic Irish typeface were once available.

The “buailte” or “punc” and the “fada” required a special back-space movement, slowing down production.

Eventually, the “Qwerty” keyboard replaced the Irish language version and the “buailte” was replaced by the letter “h” in modern Irish life.

A “golfball” in place

Teachers in secretarial classes in the 1970s taught “touch typing”.

Students had to learn where the keys were without looking at the keyboard or the typed document, so they could transcribe accurately the Gregg or Pitman shorthand dictated earlier.

Long finger-nails weren’t allowed.

They interfered with typing accuracy.

Who remembers the drills that typists practised – “Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party” and another one: “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog’s back”?

They used most of the letters of the alphabet.

The faster and more accurately you typed these without looking, the better your typing skills became.

Typing at 90 words per minute was usual, and you’d need an accurate shorthand speed of about 250 or 300 words per minute (in both English and Irish) to be an official Dáil or Court stenographer.

When typing a document, you’d use all your fingers (except your left thumb) while at the same time reading your shorthand notes.

Pressure from the typist’s fingers brought the typing heads (where the alphabet letters were embossed) into contact with an inked ribbon, and then the sheet of paper which had been inserted around the platen.

The platen is the black cylinder above the key-bed.

When the end of a line of type was reached, a bell on the typewriter would go ding and the typist pushed a lever at the side of the typewriter to return the platen, ready for a fresh line of type.

Two sheets of typing paper with a sheet of carbon paper between them produced a copy for the relevant office file, to be kept in-house.

In the 1970s, most typists started off their secretarial careers in a “typing pool”.

All the typists were women.

Depending on the company’s size, this “pool” could number as many as 10 or more typists working in the same room.

The noise of all the typing and the many dings could be very loud, and continuous.

Arms and shoulders would ache until you became used to the 9 to 5 routine of battling with the manual typewriter your employer had provided for you.

When necessary, a new spool of inked ribbon had to be inserted in the correct slots to replace the old one.

As a result, sometimes the typist’s fingers would be covered in black and red ink.

Using lots of soap, hot water and a strong nailbrush removed most of it.

In the 1980s, manual typewriters were replaced mostly by – wonder of wonders – the IBM Selectric “golfball”, an electric typewriter.

Much lighter to use than a manual machine, it was also stream-lined, with a coloured outer chassis.

It became a status symbol, the Maserati of the typing world.

It hummed along and moved automatically onto a fresh line of paper.

Additionally, the golfball device could be easily replaced with another one, allowing a different typeface.

“Prestige Elite”, “Times New Roman”, and “Courier New” were amongst the familiar ones.

Gone also is the large Gestetner machine, the photocopier’s fore-runner.

Gestetners required a document to be typed onto a very fragile wax sheet which was then spread – without creasing or tearing it – onto the Gestetner’s heavy roller.

Having checked that sufficient sticky ink was in the machine, and enough blank paper, the typist used a large handle at the side of the machine to push the roller around, one revolution per page.

With care, the wax sheet might last for, say, 20 copies.

The more times the wax sheet was used, the more likely it was to tear or crease.

That meant another wax sheet had to be typed and the procedure repeated.

Does anyone remember Telex machines?

They were supplanted by faxes, which came into use when photo-copiers arrived.

Generally, a company would have only one Telex which was used by all the typists and secretaries in the business.

You’d sit at the big, ticking machine and type a message onto a paper ribbon using the heavy keys on the machine’s keyboard.

As you typed, indentations were made onto the ribbon which ended up like a mini toilet roll of paper.

What you typed ended up looking a bit like Braille.

Then, you’d carefully insert the indented paper into a different slot on the machine, dial up the receiver’s special number.

When the call was answered you’d hit the “go” button and wait for the ribbon to run through the slot provided.

An experienced (good) typist could read a telex ribbon as fast as you’re reading this.

The early 1990s in Ireland saw many improvements in office life.

Desk-top computers had replaced typewriters.

Type-faces could be changed instantly and spelling mistakes corrected – without Tippex.

Shorthand skills gave way to Dictaphones.

Photo-copiers edged out Gestetners and Telexes.

Even desk phones were beginning to become outdated.

Swift communication has come a long way.

All we need now is better communication.

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