Almon Brown Strowger and Patent No. 447,918
In a small, rather unkempt cemetery near the center of St. Petersburg, Florida, there is a simple grave with a plaque attached to it. The plaque reads:
Here rests the remains of
ALMON BROWN STROWGER
1839 – 1902
INVENTOR & PIONEER
Whose dream of better telephone service inspired him to invent in 1889 the first practical automatic telephone system. This plaque placed here in his honor on the 110th anniversary of his birth by grateful members of the telephone industry October 19, 1949.
Strowger was a grade school teacher, a school principal, and, later, an undertaker. At the age of 22 he enlisted in Company A, 8th New York Cavalry, and received a commission as second lieutenant. It was some 20 years after his honorable discharge that our story really begins. At that time, Strowger was an undertaker in Kansas City, Missouri, and, as was tradition, lived in his undertaking establishment.
One morning, while reading the morning newspaper, he read that a friend had died. And, to his astonishment and amazement, he read that the burial was to be handled by a competitor. Now Strowger was known to be hot-tempered, and on this occasion he certainly was. He immediately grabbed at the telephone, and after being connected with the operator, angrily accused her of mis-directing a call. In spite of her claims to the contrary, he remained convinced that this had been the case.
He slammed the phone down, and paced the floor. The thought came to him: he would solve the problem by eliminating the need for operators. He would design an automatic telephone switching system. But how?
While contemplating this he opened his desk drawer, and took out a round cardboard box holding a dozen paper collars. The collars were discarded, and the short, cardboard cylinder became the first telephone switch. The first Strowger Switch. The first step-by-step switch.
Strowger took a handful of straight pins, and stuck them through the cardboard from outside to inside. He laid out 10 rows, each with 10 pins, for a total of 100 pins (or contacts). He then took a lead pencil, mounted it in the center of this contraption, and attached to the pencil a wiper, long enough to make contact with each pin. If, he theorized, he could arrange to have this wiper slide up and down on the pencil shaft, and also cause the shaft to rotate, he could make contact with any desired contact.
Furthermore, he figured, if there could be one of these switches for every subscriber, and if the 100 contacts were multiplied, one to another, then any subscriber, by the proper manipulation of the wiper and the shaft, could make electrical contact with any other subscriber. And certainly electromagnets could be arranged to facilitate this motion.
But what would tell the magnets to operate? Obviously, keys or buttons at the subscriber’s premises, each connected to a wire that went to the central office. And, since sophisticated switching circuits were not yet in existence, this would require a wire for each magnet. To be precise, one wire would actuate the vertically-stepping magnet; one the horizontal or rotary-stepping magnet; one would cause ringing voltage to be extended; one would be to effect the release function, and of course there would have to be a ground. That’s a lot of wires. (Note: Original patent drawings are somewhat confusing. One set shows that there would be 100 contacts in each row, and that 1 button would step the wipers 10 steps at a time, while another button would step the wipers 1 step at a time.)
Although 5 wires to each subscriber was rather impractical, and the number of required pushes to the keys was rather excessive, the people liked the concept.
Almon B. Strowger filed his landmark patent application on March 12, 1889, and it was issued on March 10, 1891 as patent No. 447,918. The description of the patent was quite precise: “In a system of electrical exchange, the combination, with an insulating curved surface, a system of wires having their ends extending to and through said surface to the concave surface thereof, and a rotary and longitudinally-moveable rod located at the axis of curvature, of a contact-needle fastened to the rod, levers for moving the rod longitudinally, levers for rotating the rod, magnets for vibrating the lever, and means for energizing the magnets at pleasure, substantially as set forth....”
The business plan that facilitated the Strowger Switch was something of a joke. When Joseph Harris, a traveling salesman, discovered Strowger and his invention, he invited him to come to Chicago – even offering to pay his way. Strowger declined. Models of a switch were made, but even after spending $4,000 on 4 switches, they didn’t work. The company formed to exploit the switch had financial difficulties and sold its rights, agreeing to receive a fee for all switches sold. None were. Alexander E. Keith (later Vice President for development and research for Automatic Electric Co) was hired to keep the superintendent of the Baltimore factory that was supposedly making the switches busy, while T.E. Meyer, with several others “dismantled the factory, shipped the machinery,” to the Chicago headquarters. In 36 hours all of the factory equipment, except materials, was packed, carted, put on cars which were sealed, and started for Chicago.
The company, later known as Automatic Electric Co., grew exponentially, and supplied the much-improved Strowger Switch to telephone companies the world over. In fact, Western Electric Co. made more switches (under license) than did Automatic Electric.
Almon Strowger found that in the late 1890s his health was failing, and he moved to St. Petersburg, Florida. There he continued to be involved with the operation of the city, and was always quick to point out what someone else should be doing. He was described by one article as “a wiry little guy; tipped the scales at about 110 pounds. Had bushy white side whiskers. Inventive. Ingenious. And short of temper.” Strowger died May 26, 1902, and was buried in Greenwood Cemetery, at 9th Street South and 11th Ave South, in the historic Roser Park neighborhood. The plaque installed some 50 years later by his colleagues in the telephone industry amply describe him as INVENTOR & PIONEER.
