Insta-Blog-O-Matic!: Lansford history

Did you hear that television has come to Lansford?

No, I don’t mean that you just ran to Walmart and picked one up; I’m referring to the time that the Panther Valley area—not counting Summit Hill, but we’ll get to that in a moment—was finally able to receive boob-tube transmissions from the city of brotherly love.

It was, essentially, the birth of cable television as we know it, and it came about because the mountains of eastern Pennsylvania were prohibiting television transmissions from reaching the local valley areas, namely the towns of Mauch Chunk, Nesquehoning, Lansford, Coaldale, and Tamaqua. Summit Hill lucked out because of their location atop a mountain, so they were able to watch their favorite channels—all three of them.

For a full explanation of what had happened and how it was fixed, there exists a story from a now-defunct magazine entitled Radio & Television News. In their March 1951 issue, author E.D. Lucas, Jr., gives a “detailed report on America’s first community aerial system” and “how five men of initiative brought television to what was once an isolated TV area.”

Found below are scanned images of the magazine, which were graciously posted online by AmericanRadioHistory.com. I’m hoping that it’s permissible to republish these images, as it states that the publication in question is no longer under copyright protection and I’m making it fully aware that the original scans were not done by me. In addition, neither this blog nor AmericanRadioHistory.com are commercial endeavors. AmericanRadioHistory.com posts information on radio and television history to keep the history alive, and I attempt to do something similar here with regard to some of the small towns in Pennsylvania’s anthracite region. If you’re interested in broadcasting history, or simply history in general, this Website is worth bookmarking.

I’m including a few paragraphs from the magazine’s story verbatim so that they are picked up in Google searches that might be done.

This is the story of how communities beyond the fringe of television reception now receive clear, strong television signals from transmitters 75 to 125 airline miles away. It is the exciting story of the first “community aerial”—telling how a single master TV antenna system can serve an entire city, just as one master aerial brings television reception to all the tenants of a large apartment building.

[…]

This case history of how good television reception has come to Panther Valley tells of the initiative of a group of small-town businessmen, four radio dealers and a lawyer, and how they have solved the variety of problems, technical, legal, political, financial, which confronted them in building a community aerial system. Such information has already proved useful to other towns planning their own community aerials and will, we hope, be helpful to many other communities now TV-blind. For here is the story of how television can reach new audiences by the million, just as television has come to Panther Valley.

[…]

For instance, at Summit Hill, a village less than a mile up the mountain from the much larger town of Lansford, the people on the hill could enjoy television. Their much more numerous neighbors down in Panther Valley felt as if nature—and television—had discriminated against them. As Mayor Evan H. Whildin of Lansford expressed it, “The signals used to go right over our heads.”
The radio dealers of Lansford were doubly irked about this situation. They couldn’t watch television and, even worse, they couldn’t sell TV sets in the valley. So they decided to do something about it.

Panther Valley Television Company founders: (from left) Rudolph Dubosky, George Bright, William Z. Scott, Robert J. Tarlton, and William McDonald.

One of these dealers, Robert J. Tarlton, remembered reading about master antenna systems for apartments, hotels and other multiple-set installations. Tarlton went into a huddle with the other three radio and appliance dealers in Lansford, William McDonald, Rudolph Dubosky, and George Bright, vice-president of Bright’s Stores, Inc., [a] leading department store in Panther Valley. The group agreed to do some experimenting. They got a truck with an antenna that could be extended to a height of about 40 feet. They also bought some equipment, including master control and amplifier units, distribution outlets, and several hundred feet of cable.

The rest of the story explains the specifics of the set-up, which is worth a read whether you’re into the technical aspects of the situation or not. Below you will find full magazine screenshots.

...the Standard Medical Company of Lansford, Pennsylvania.

Now that I’ve moved into a new house, I’ve discovered old things packed away which I forgot that I had. Old hockey sweaters, baseball cards, writings, etc.—they were with me the entire time but I completely forgot about them.

Another few items that I came across were several boxes and bags of paperwork, stock certificates, and correspondence from the defunct Standard Medical Company of Lansford, Pennsylvania. The company made the popular Williams’ Anti-Pain ointment—or Anti-Pahn and Auntie Payne, as they also used in a few advertisements—which had a devout customer base not only across the country but also around the world, as evidenced by the correspondence.

The only reason that I’m even writing about this is because I discovered that some of the ointment’s users took to the Internet to ask about whether or not they could still purchase this amazing salve.

To put it briefly, the answer is no, you cannot purchase Williams’ Anti-Pain ointment anymore because the Standard Medical Company in Lansford, Pennsylvania, no longer exists and the formula was not purchased by anyone following the company’s closure.

Here’s the company’s story in a nutshell:

While it formed as a partnership in 1906 between William D. Davis and Charles E. McGinley, the Standard Medical Company incorporated in the 1920s—before the stock market crash of 1929—and was able to survive not only the Great Depression, but make a successful run all the way until around 1996 or 1997 (I forget the actual date when they dissolved as a corporation). Their claim-to-fame was an ointment called Williams’ Anti-Pain, which was akin to Icy Hot or Ben Gay but according to many of its users, Williams’ Anti-Pain was a thousand times better.

By the time that the mid-1990s rolled around, the owners and workers of the company were getting up in age and they were also faced with a dilemma of having to make major upgrades to their manufacturing processes. Stoves to produce the product, ventilation fans to clear the air of the building, ingredient holding areas, etc.: each of these aspects of production would have to be upgraded to meet new stringent FDA standards. From what I was told privately at the time—and at this point, I don’t mind saying it publicly—most of the new federal guidelines were put in place because larger corporations had paid (lobbied) both state and federal officials in order to shut down the smaller companies like Standard Medical in order to reduce competition.

A small business like Standard Medical couldn’t afford to upgrade to equipment that big corporations could purchase at the drop of a hat. They weighed their options and the only realistic one was to fold the business.

They attempted to sell the formula and name “Williams’ Anti-Pain” to anyone who might be interested. Since my late father was their accountant at the time, I personally was put in charge of collecting each and every known customer name as well as their address to notify them if a new buyer was found. By the end of the job, I had amassed a 20-page list of names of people from all over the world. If you’re reading this right now and ever sent a letter to the Standard Medical Company, you probably received a reply from me at some point. I actually responded to all 400 names or so on the list.

As the company was folding, there was only one serious prospective buyer, but unfortunately he pulled out of the deal at the last minute after he realized just how much money would have to be sunk into the endeavor in order to allow him to compete with the larger salve corporations. The product and the name were shopped around a little while longer with no positive results.

So to answer the question of if the Standard Medical Company of Lansford, Pennsylvania, is still in business or if you can purchase Williams’ Anti-Pain ointment any longer, the answer is no. Sadly this will be part of Americana from the 1920s to the mid-1990s and that’s where the story ends.

If you still have your old jars of Anti-Pain ointment, hold on to them for posterity. They’re not only evidence of a quality product but also evidence that at one time small businesses were allowed to exist in the United States and didn’t have to fear being shut down by their own government.

UPDATE: December, 2015

I’m not on Facebook, so I had no idea that Williams’ Anti-Pain Ointment was being discussed among folks from Pennsylvania on a coal region group page.

Anyway, given that that is the case, I’ve decided to upload some of the old documents and other items from the former Standard Medical Company that I’ve had in my possession since the company’s dissolution in the mid-1990s.

On June 3, 1922, William D. Davis, Paul William Kershner, and Charles Edwards are made election officers to conduct the election for directors of the Standard Medical Company.

While I don’t seem to have the “letter of a few days ago” from the J.B. Williams Company, it appears that in 1928 the Standard Medical Company was being questioned on their use of the name “Williams” by the J.B. Williams Company, which at the time produced shaving cream, talcum powder, and toilet soaps. Company president William D. Davis explained his position to the Glastonbury company. Note that the company was formed by Davis and Charles E. McGinley of Mauch Chunk but would later move to Lansford after Davis bought McGinley's interest in the company.

This application for registration of insecticides and fungicides offers a prototype label for a product called Pestmist (or Pest Mist). Not much documentation for Pest Mist came after this February 6, 1929, document, so I’m assuming that this product was either short-lived or simply didn’t get off the ground.

In 1950, the Standard Medical Company hired the A.H. Wirz Company to make prototype collapsible tubes for their Williams’ Anti-Pahn Ointment (the explanation for the use of “pahn” instead of “pain” follows in the documents below). I’m not sure if these were ever formally adopted for use, and if they were, how much they were used.

Standard Medical Company common stock.

One hundred shares of Standard Medical Company stock, obtained by president William D. Davis. This is a photo as opposed to a scan because the certificate is affixed to the stock book and I have no intention of removing it.

A mortgage from The Progressive Building and Loan Association of East Mauch Chunk. The first was filed in 1914 and the second in 1915. Prior to their building near the corner of West Abbott and Sharpe Streets, it is my understanding that the Standard Medical Company had properties along East Ridge Street near both Chestnut and Tunnel Streets, with the Tunnel Street property being a drug store owned by William D. Davis. Their West Abbott Street building was built at some point after the mid-1960s but I'm not sure on the exact date. There also were references to a West Water Street warehouse that was used when Harry Canter came into the picture with the company.

Back of the mortgage.

This check for $30 was made payable to the Secretary of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania as a filing fee for board elections in 1923. A note attached explains that the check was no longer needed after it was made. The account was at the old Dime Bank of Lansford, located at 7 West Ridge Street.

The Lansford Dime Bank during the Standard Medical Company era, probably from sometime between the 1930s and 1950s. As noted, this photo is from the book Lansford: The First One Hundred Years by Richard J. Hoben. From what I've been told, the book was a one-time publication for Lansford's centennial celebration in 1976 and is only available in used form online. I'm publishing this photo for informational purposes only and no infringement is intended. If you're into local history, the book is worth purchasing.

In 1924 and into 1925, the Standard Medical Company had been selling insecticide to kill flies made by the Hance Brothers and White Company in Philadelphia. Known as Fli-Kil (also spelled "Fly-Kil" on some documents), the Standard Medical Company discovered that Hance Brothers and White, who were a well-known chemical and pharmaceutical company at the time, had sold them insecticide that didn't actually include the active fly-killing ingredient pyrethrum flower. The Standard Medical Company threatened legal action against Hance Brothers and White if they did not rectify the situation. Additional documents go on to show that Hance Brothers and White agreed to add 5% pyrethrum flower to all existing bottles of the bogus insecticide to avoid any litigation.

Below are numerous documents that were in the collection following the company’s closure. The first document is an apology letter from a customer who could not pay for her salve. Keep in mind that it was written during the Great Depression. It serves as a reminder of what hardship really was and really is. Nowadays we complain if we get bad cell service; in the 1930s they went days without eating.

The other documents are correspondence regarding the patent and name “Anti-Pain.” From what I’ve come to understand from reading these, the Standard Medical Company was given a hard time by the federal government regarding both the attempt at patenting the word pain as well as the term “anti-pain” because it was determined that the salve would have to alleviate all known pain a human body could have to justify such a moniker.

The last set of documents from this batch are letters from local newspapers that are thanking the Standard Medical Company and the Richard A. Foley Advertising Agency for their generous business. The advertisements follow those.

Please excuse the watermarks on each image. I did notice that other images had a habit of showing up on other Websites without information as to where the images originated. Please feel free to share any of these if you find them interesting or useful.

A letter of apology from Mrs. Mary Sams of Jeffersonville, Ohio. She was not able to pay her bill during the Great Depression.

Different possibilities for the spelling of the term "anti-pain." You will see in the proceeding correspondence that the phrase "anti-pain" became debated by the federal government, and in particular the Patent Office.

A form for salesmen in 1930.

The Williams' Anti-Pain Ointment newspaper advertisement from 1923.

The Williams' Anti-Pain Ointment newspaper advertisement from 1925.

The Williams' Anti-Pain Ointment newspaper advertisement from 1926.

The documents below are related to the Standard Medical Company’s relationship with stock promoter W.E.A. Wheeler of New York City during 1929. Wheeler was also the president of the Union National Life Insurance Company after stints with Standard Mutual Life of Pittsburg and the Quaker City Life Insurance Company of Philadelphia.

W.E.A. Wheeler's June 12, 1929, Western Union telegram informing W.D. Davis that he will arrive in Mauch Chunk by way of the Black Diamond steam locomotive.