My Uncle's Royal with the blue rear-end!
One of my many childhood memories of vacuum cleaners is at my maternal uncle CHARLES RICHARD Jessup's house (yes, for whom I was named!). He went by his middle name, Richard, and everyone in the family called him by his nickname, Dick, except for his wife who always called him "RICH-errrd" - in her husky, wheezy, cigarette-smoked voice. He was a Commander in the Navy, and all the times my family visited his family when I was a little kid, it was at the Naval Base in Annapolis, Maryland where he lived in a housing complex in a two-story duplex. It was always a treat to go visit him because he had several vacuum cleaners - none of which, from the generally disheveled look of his place, did he or his wife use very frequently!
Let's see ... he had a Hoover Constellation, tan and creamy yellow; one of those big Hoover commercial models -- the "Hernia 913" -- then one or two hand vacs, some kind of porta-vac (GE maybe?), and an old straight-suction Singer hand vac.
My cousin Jackie still teases me about how one time when we were visiting, when I was about 8 years old, I brought that big Hoover outside from the garage where it was stored, and vacuumed their entire cement driveway with it! With the motor running!! For some reason I fell in love with that huge old sweeper, and the entire time we were there I dropped very broad hints about how we had "only one sweeper and you have a lot of them," and how I would love to take it home.
When we got ready to leave, I had my little suitcase in one hand and was rolling the big Hoover out with the other hand. Mama told me I had to put the sweeper back. I looked at Uncle Dick hopefully. He said, catching Mama's frantic 'NO!' expression, "Why don't we leave it here, and whenever you come to visit us you can use it."
Well, I started bawling and crying, just utterly despondent and FURIOUS that I could not take the Hoover home with us! There was no consoling me, and I stewed and pouted about it for several days.
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NOW THEN, TO BRING THIS ON-TOPIC (I know you're all waiting with bated breath!!) .......................
He ALSO had a Royal upright that, when I was very little kid, I was absolutely terrified of because I thought it was a Kirby.
I am sure I saw that Royal several times, but my most vivid memory of it was one time when when we were visiting when I was only 3 or 4 years old. It was standing in the front hallway. Fairly frequently, I would tiptoe to the corner leading to the hallway, timidly stick my head around, and peek at the Royal for just a second, and then go running off in the other direction, petrified.
Later that day, however, it became a real problem for me: It stood between me and the stairs where I had to go in order to go to bed. I would not for the life of me go anywhere near it despite the coaxings, pleadings and ultimately threatenings of my mom and dad.
Uncle Dick asked what on earth was wrong, and I wailed, "I don't like Kirbys! They're scaaaaareeeey!!!"
He said, "Well, Chuckie (which everyone called me at the time), it's NOT even a Kirby! It's a ROYAL!"
But there was no convincing me. I simply would not go near that monstrous vacuum cleaner!
Finally, Uncle Dick "took the bull by the horns." He took me by the shoulders and steered me, kicking and screaming, right in front of the Royal! He said, over my hollering, "Now look! It's not going to hurt you! It's not even plugged in!"
Finally, fear gave way to curiosity once I realized it was not going to eat me alive. I convinced Uncle Dick to plug it in and turn it on. Before you could say ROYAL, I was vacuuming the hallway with it. Had it not been so late, bedtime (which was probably about 8 p.m., haha), I would have vacuumed the entire house with it.
I remember quite a few details about it, especially considering it was so many years ago when I last saw it. It had a polished aluminum brush and fan housing and had a headlight. The bag was dark blue with silver and red (?) lettering. The little cap on the front to access the belt was red with white lettering. But the thing I remember so clearly was that the motor casing was painted hammertone blue. I am sure of that! I can still see it very vividly in my mind's eye!
Anyone know which model that was, and maybe have a photo of it? If you post it, I promise not to run down the hallway, screaming and crying in terror!! hahaha
I haven't seen another one since that time. I've seen lots of Royals over the years in all sorts of colors, but have never seen one with a hammertone-blue motor housing like Uncle Dick's.
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In 1970, my family moved to Annapolis into a house just around the corner from my uncle who had bought a house there after retiring from the Navy. In 1975, the year after I graduated from high school, I got a job working for an area Kirby dealer rebuilding and polishing traded-in Kirbys for him to sell as reconditioned machines. I set up my own first workshop in my parents' basement and would bring home 3 or 4 Kirbys a week to rebuild. I made my own buffing wheel out of a big electric motor, setting it up on a low, narrow, wooden work-bench so I could sit down while polishing machines. (Billy Lipman is now the proud owner of that polishing rig!)
I also started fixing up and selling reconditioned Kirbys on my own - machines that I'd find at thrift shops and yard sales. (Early-series 500s were quite plentiful in those days!) My first sale was to Uncle Dick. He was visiting us one night, and was grumbling about vacuum cleaners. He said, "Millie [his wife] has gone through two vacuums in six months. The new machines today really are junk! Nothing like the old days."
Daddy piped up, "You ought to see the old Kirbys that Charles has been fixing up."
My uncle's eyes lit up -- "Kirby?! I didn't know they still made those! Mother had one when I was a boy."
Mama said, "Yes, I remember it all too well --- don't forget, it was MY job to use it!"
He looked at me with a very surprised expression and said, "You mean you're fixing up Kirbys now? I remember a time when you were scared to death of Kirbys! Do you remember the old Royal that Millie had, that you were so frightened of that you wouldn't even go down the hallway where it was standing, because you thought it was a Kirby?"
(Yes, of course I remembered it very well, and regaled the entire episode in more detail than he had remembered, of course!)
He said, "I'd like to see one of your Kirbys."
Well, taking a cue, I went and got one that I had just finished rebuilding. It was a 514, gleaming with a fresh buff job, and all tricked out in "Sirroco" tan trim, cord and bag. My uncle just looked at it for a moment. He reached for his wallet. "How much?" he asked.
I said, a bit timidly, "a hundred dollars." He looked at me kinda funny, so I stammered, "Well, a new one goes for about 300 dollars. This one is as good as new. I completely rebuilt it, and it has all new trim and stuff, and a new bag. So a hundred is a pretty good deal."
My uncle replied, "Son, you're an IDIOT to be selling these for a hundred bucks! My wife just burned up two machines that cost twice that much. So I am going to give you 200 for it, and I want you to promise me you won't sell them for any less than that."
Well, what could I say?!
