Good afternoon, Vacuumlanders,
My name's Mike, and right now I have 3 vintage machines on order from eBay. The first to arrive was a Eureka model 740 Cordaway. Here is the story of my first vintage (and first canister) vacuum cleaner.
As I limped up the dark driveway following a 36-hour work shift, I spotted the package waiting for me on the porch table. Elation! I suddenly felt much more awake as I hefted the box and hurried inside with it. I tried to be patient and careful as I sliced through miles of strapping tape. Had the protruding elements (wheels, foot switch) survived the journey? I lifted out the machine; everything appeared intact --wow. What a beauty! It looked greener, and cuter, than I had anticipated. However, I detected a musty odor. I opened the canister: PHEWW --a thick layer of powdery mildew coated the inner chamber, filter, and (full) bag. The foam bag gasket "doughnut" was the worst: a disintegrating, moldy stink bomb. Feeling crushed but not defeated (that came later), I put the gasket to soak in a strong solution of detergent --but I could still smell the sorry thing as I contemplated the machine itself. Where to begin? I took the tattered bag to the door and flung it, then got to work on the canister, first dry-brushing (thinking, ironically, "What I really need right now is a good vacuum cleaner..."), then sponging and toothbrush-scrubbing with Dawn and hot water. I don't know that I had more than 50% hope at this point, because the stench of that stupid doughnut still permeated the place, but I kept blindly scrubbing away. As I liberated the bag chamber from its film of mildew I started noticing how near-perfect the paint looked; I found no corrosion inside the canister.
About two hours and 50 Q-tips later the machine looked fantastic, a bond had developed, and I had committed myself fully to making "my first vintage sweetheart" a permanent fixture in my life. My ear detected no motor problems. Perfect hose --no leaks, no misshapen kinks. The suction amazed me when I attached the bare floor brush, sucking up big chunks of cracked grout from the tile. However, much of the odor remained, especially when I fired up the motor: the exhaust smelled like an unventilated basement with flood damage. And the bag gasket... I must have washed, flushed, squeezed, rinsed, squished, bathed, abluted, treated, and tortured that gasket 20 times in 20 different ways, but to no avail. Rank. Fetid. The Cordaway cord underwhelmed me at a mere eight feet --that couldn't be right; Eureka was better than that. Time to take the back panel off.
I discovered the source of the remaining odor. Same problem as above, only worse. Took me awhile, but I got it cleaned out. I unjammed the cord reel. Did a superficial cleaning of the motor and chamber, wiping and blowing out any dust. Motor brushes looked fine. Commutator and windings: bright and shiny. I longed to disassemble the machine further to clean the individual vacuum fans, but not having all my tools, or the internet to guide me at that moment, or any sleep, I decided to postpone a full take-apart.
Traces of musty odor remained. At one time I lived in an isolated cabin with insufficient electric wiring for heat (and resulting over-sufficient moisture) --so I'd dealt with mildew before; I knew that sunshine works miracles. The next day I let the opened-up machine and cord sunbathe outside for several hours. I gave the bag gasket up as a lost cause and cut a new one from a piece of foam, and I don't know that it does not work better than the original --I find no dust or dirt in the bag chamber, even after heavy use. All week I used the machine to vacuum everything in sight: furnace grates, fans, various lands-of-the-lost (i.e. under the fridge), the ceiling and walls; the heat of the vacuum motor further drove out lingering odor. Lastly, I got a brainstorm and cut a secondary filter from a scented dryer sheet. Wow, it works great! Every time I fire up the machine now, all I smell is clean laundry. The air flows freely through the dryer sheet.
I sure would like to know what (snap-on tool caddy?) the chromed button on the top is for. Also, I'd like to find more beige-colored tools to match the floor brush that came with the machine, especially one of the older Eureka carpet nozzles --threaded type-- that seem to perch so handsomely on the end of the curved end wand. The Eureka Company had clever product designers.
Wow. The low, mellow hum of the motor is so pleasant to my ears. It is "the sound of old," the solid purr of steel-insulated machinery. Yea, I love my vintage sweetheart!
My name's Mike, and right now I have 3 vintage machines on order from eBay. The first to arrive was a Eureka model 740 Cordaway. Here is the story of my first vintage (and first canister) vacuum cleaner.
As I limped up the dark driveway following a 36-hour work shift, I spotted the package waiting for me on the porch table. Elation! I suddenly felt much more awake as I hefted the box and hurried inside with it. I tried to be patient and careful as I sliced through miles of strapping tape. Had the protruding elements (wheels, foot switch) survived the journey? I lifted out the machine; everything appeared intact --wow. What a beauty! It looked greener, and cuter, than I had anticipated. However, I detected a musty odor. I opened the canister: PHEWW --a thick layer of powdery mildew coated the inner chamber, filter, and (full) bag. The foam bag gasket "doughnut" was the worst: a disintegrating, moldy stink bomb. Feeling crushed but not defeated (that came later), I put the gasket to soak in a strong solution of detergent --but I could still smell the sorry thing as I contemplated the machine itself. Where to begin? I took the tattered bag to the door and flung it, then got to work on the canister, first dry-brushing (thinking, ironically, "What I really need right now is a good vacuum cleaner..."), then sponging and toothbrush-scrubbing with Dawn and hot water. I don't know that I had more than 50% hope at this point, because the stench of that stupid doughnut still permeated the place, but I kept blindly scrubbing away. As I liberated the bag chamber from its film of mildew I started noticing how near-perfect the paint looked; I found no corrosion inside the canister.
About two hours and 50 Q-tips later the machine looked fantastic, a bond had developed, and I had committed myself fully to making "my first vintage sweetheart" a permanent fixture in my life. My ear detected no motor problems. Perfect hose --no leaks, no misshapen kinks. The suction amazed me when I attached the bare floor brush, sucking up big chunks of cracked grout from the tile. However, much of the odor remained, especially when I fired up the motor: the exhaust smelled like an unventilated basement with flood damage. And the bag gasket... I must have washed, flushed, squeezed, rinsed, squished, bathed, abluted, treated, and tortured that gasket 20 times in 20 different ways, but to no avail. Rank. Fetid. The Cordaway cord underwhelmed me at a mere eight feet --that couldn't be right; Eureka was better than that. Time to take the back panel off.
I discovered the source of the remaining odor. Same problem as above, only worse. Took me awhile, but I got it cleaned out. I unjammed the cord reel. Did a superficial cleaning of the motor and chamber, wiping and blowing out any dust. Motor brushes looked fine. Commutator and windings: bright and shiny. I longed to disassemble the machine further to clean the individual vacuum fans, but not having all my tools, or the internet to guide me at that moment, or any sleep, I decided to postpone a full take-apart.
Traces of musty odor remained. At one time I lived in an isolated cabin with insufficient electric wiring for heat (and resulting over-sufficient moisture) --so I'd dealt with mildew before; I knew that sunshine works miracles. The next day I let the opened-up machine and cord sunbathe outside for several hours. I gave the bag gasket up as a lost cause and cut a new one from a piece of foam, and I don't know that it does not work better than the original --I find no dust or dirt in the bag chamber, even after heavy use. All week I used the machine to vacuum everything in sight: furnace grates, fans, various lands-of-the-lost (i.e. under the fridge), the ceiling and walls; the heat of the vacuum motor further drove out lingering odor. Lastly, I got a brainstorm and cut a secondary filter from a scented dryer sheet. Wow, it works great! Every time I fire up the machine now, all I smell is clean laundry. The air flows freely through the dryer sheet.
I sure would like to know what (snap-on tool caddy?) the chromed button on the top is for. Also, I'd like to find more beige-colored tools to match the floor brush that came with the machine, especially one of the older Eureka carpet nozzles --threaded type-- that seem to perch so handsomely on the end of the curved end wand. The Eureka Company had clever product designers.
Wow. The low, mellow hum of the motor is so pleasant to my ears. It is "the sound of old," the solid purr of steel-insulated machinery. Yea, I love my vintage sweetheart!
