Batteries & Cost
In 1911 you could order a Detroit Electric with Thomas Edison's new nickel-steel batteries. Edison had been promising his new batteries for a decade and unsuccessfully tried to manufacture them numerous times before, but by 1910 he finally had them ready to go. For electric car manufacturers, this was the moment they'd been waiting for. The average mileage on a charge would go from 50 to 100! With the roads being what they were at the time, 100 miles would take you just about anywhere you wanted to go. In fact, Detroit Electric ran a mileage test in the fall of 1910 with Edison batteries and set a mileage record of 211.3 miles on a single charge. (Chronicled in The Detroit Electric Scheme.) And then Baker Electric one-upped them in December with over 243 miles! A 1911 Detroit Electric cost between $2,000 and $3,500, depending on the model. The Edison battery added $600 to the cost. Ouch. As a contrast, a Model T roadster cost $600 for the whole car! Of course, it was nothing - at all - like a Detroit Electric. Still, the average cost of a new car in 1911 was $1,130. Unfortunately, batteries, whether nickel-steel or lead-acid, didn't get significantly cheaper. Gasoline automobile prices kept diving, driven by intense competition and improvements in manufacturing efficiency. The electric car companies never gained that advantage, and their prices stayed very static. The price gap kept growing, and the self-starter for the gas cars eliminated the greatest advantage the electrics held--easy starting. By the time "The Great War" began, electrics were on the ropes. By 1920 they were all but gone. (Although, believe it or not, Detroit Electric was in business into the 1940's!)
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Who Killed the Electric Car (Part 2)
The "Self-Starter" In the early years, electrics had a very significant advantage over gasoline and stem-powered cars - they were easy to start. All you had to do was flip a switch, and, assuming the batteries were charged, the car was ready to go. With a steam car, you had to stoke up the boiler and wait for the better part of an hour before you could get going. Not exactly convenient. Add to that the possibility of the boiler exploding if you weren't an expert, and it was pretty clear that this method of combustion was not going to be long-lived in automobiles. Gasoline cars were easier and more convenient to start than that, but you still had to get your spark and throttle controls set just right and then crank the engine started. For all but the most adventurous women of the day, it was unthinkable to engage in such unladylike behavior. For men, it was all part of the adventure of the automobile, but it was still a pain - sometimes literally. People were injured, maimed, and even killed by the crank spinning back on them. In fact, this is what inspired the invention of the first reliable self-starter for a gasoline automobile. Byron Carter, the founder of the Carter-Car Company, stopped to help a woman whose car had stalled. He didn't check the spark before he tried to start it. The engine backfired, and the crank spun back, breaking his arm and smashing his face and jaw. He died of gangrene a few weeks later. His friend, Henry Leland, at the time the owner of Cadillac, vowed to develop a self-starter for a gasoline automobile that really worked. Self-starters had been around for a while - they just didn't work well or often. So Leland brought in Charles Kettering, the inventor of the electric cash register and an electricity generator known as the "Delco" (a sign of things to come for Kettering). Kettering introduced his self-starter in early 1911, It was first used in the 1912 Cadillacs to great reviews, and went on to sweep the industry. The advantage in easy starting that the electric had over the "infernal combustion" vehicle was gone, and with it a significant percentage of the electric business. Who killed the Electric Car?
Electric cars were more popular at the turn of the 20th Century than gasoline cars, but by 1920 they had almost entirely disappeared. Was this due to a conspiracy between Henry Ford and Standard Oil's John D. Rockefeller? I wish. Sexy conspiracy theories are always more exciting than the truth. I find it interesting that most of the issues that dogged electrics a hundred years ago are the same problems they have today. Hoping that someone else finds it interesting as well, I will post a series of entries on the reason the electric car died. First . . . The American Man and the Art of Touring The automobile opened up this country for exploration. Previously, if a person wanted to travel they would either hook up the horse and wagon or take a train. They could direct the horses wherever they wanted and weren't limited by a schedule, but horses couldn't cover a lot of ground in a day. A train traveled faster and further, but they were limited by the tracks and the train's schedule. With an automobile a traveler could cover a lot of ground and go wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted. And the automobile was so doggone manly. With his scarf trailing behind him in the breeze, his goggles fixed firmly in place, and the woman he was courting on the seat next to him, a man could travel the countryside. If he was lucky, he could stop in a secluded area for a picnic and perhaps a bit of romance. Cars were an accessory to a "manly man." The cooler the car, the cooler the man (or so the men thought. Sound familiar?) Cars were also expensive. Few people could afford one until the 1920's. In the early part of the 20th century, owning a car signaled to all that you were wealthy. Touring became the rage, the pastime for the rich. It was the primary reason most men bought cars. This was a problem for the electric. Steam-powered automobiles ran on water, so the boiler could be filled practically anywhere. Gasoline-powered cars could be driven anywhere gas could be delivered, which, as the internal combustion engine grew in popularity for things like tractors, was virtually anywhere. Charging an electric required electricity--something not readily available in the country. Well into the 20th century, most rural areas didn't have electrical service. Those that did most often didn't have a facility designed to charge an electric car. If a man took his electric out for a tour, he might not get back. In the early 1900's electrics got an average of about fifty miles on a charge. Who wanted to take the chance of getting stranded? So if electrics were the third choice for touring, who bought them? Mostly city folk, who drove only in the city. There were a few dandies who didn't mind being seen behind the wheel of an electric car, but they were purchased most often to be driven by women. And the vast majority of women didn't--and wouldn't--drive. The second most common customers were city doctors--house calls, you know. Starting quickly and easily was important in a life or death situation. Electric delivery trucks were also a fairly common purchase during this time, for things like coal, ice, and milk--products that were delivered within a relatively small geographic area. The purchase of purely electric cars was limited to a tiny part of the population: people who could afford to buy a car just for city driving. (And remember, this was before the rise of the middle class.) Given that few men bought cars to drive around a city, this was strike one against the electric. Next time--Battery Technology and Cost I was thrilled to be informed that I am one of the winners of the 2011 Michigan Notable Book Awards. I am rubbing shoulders with distinguished company like 2010 National Book Award winner Jaimy Gordon.
Copy and paste this link into your browser for the full details: http://www.freep.com/article/20101212/FEATURES05/12120394/1362/Michigan-Notable-Books-for-2011 Hey, I made a list! Here is Aunt Agatha's list of favorite mysteries of 2010. (Make sure you read all the way down.) I've read a few of the others--The Left Handed Dollar, The Lock Artist, and A Curtain Falls. All three were excellent. Now I've got to read the rest!
Danse Macabre, Gerald Elias, Minotaur, $24.99. This was a surprise. When I went backward through some old Independent Mystery Bookseller bestseller lists, I noticed Elias’ first book, Devil’s Trill, appeared on many of them. Reading this one was pure chance - he was scheduled to come to the store, so I read the book, expecting a book about a blind violin teacher to be a tad on the gimmicky side. Far from it. Elias’ central character, Daniel Jacobus, is indeed a blind, cranky violin teacher (and violinist) but his blindness serves to hone his detective skills. This is introduced into the stories in various subtle ways, but I think not since Sherlock Holmes has someone been able to deduce so much from a smell. The bonus is that the classical music background is absolutely authentic - Elias’ other job is concert master of the Utah Symphony. When he visited the store all who came to the event were lucky enough to hear him play his violin. The classical music setting - though this is set in New York city, it feels exotic - helps make this series a standout. Both volumes are excellent; the second one seems to have ramped up Elias’ narrative skills, but if you enjoy classical music at all (or simply excellent traditional mysteries) this book should not be missed. The Left-Handed Dollar, Loren D. Estleman, Forge, $24.99. Even before Robert Parker passed from the scene it was my firm belief that Loren Estleman’s Amos Walker series was the finest continuing Private Eye series in the universe and The Left-Handed Dollar only confirms that belief. Private Eye books are always better when the protagonist has a personal stake in the case at hand, and in this book that’s true in spades, as Amos is hired by hot shot lawyer “Lefty Lucy” Lettermore to exonerate an mobster for an old conviction. The only problem is that the crime was attempting to blow up reporter Barry Stackpole, the guy Amos calls “the” friend. Since the attempt caused Barry to lose a leg, feelings run high, but when Amos starts taking a closer look at the case, yesterday’s witnesses start getting killed in the here and now. The plot spins smoothly with the right element of surprise, but Estleman always provides the total package, with memorable characters from major to minor, razor sharp sketches of Detroit and environs, and punchy prose, all delivered with a strong shot of sheer wit. It’s all so effortlessly done that Estleman’s mastery can be underestimated – that is until you read a book by anybody else who has a hand in the P.I. writing game and realize how Loren trumps them all. The End Game, Gerrie Ferris-Finger, Minotaur, $24.99. This is the winner of the annual St. Martin’s Malice Domestic prize, and it’s a worthy victor. While that prize is given to the best “traditional” mystery, sometimes called a cozy, Ferris Finger uses a traditional structure to tell a decidedly un-cozy story. Her main character, Moriah Dru, works with the police to find missing children. In this outing Dru is looking for two missing sisters whose foster parents were killed in a fire. The author uses the traditional form to the extent that she has Dru interview all the characters in the tiny Atlanta community where the girls were living, but she also uses this device to give the reader a real picture of the community and the people who live in it. Halfway through she throws in what is basically a locked room mystery, and she winds up this tour de force using train whistles as a clue, which is very Dorothy Sayers of her. Her narrative skills are wonderful - this book really moves - and Ferris Finger’s unsentimental writing style helps you as a reader to get through some of the darker elements of her story. All in all, a terrific read. The Lock Artist, Steve Hamilton, Minotaur, $24.99. At first I was a little sad this wasn’t an Alex McKnight book, but this story completely won me over. Hamilton is such a total pro he makes this complicated and detailed story look easy (in that he resembles another master, Michael Connelly). His main character, Mike, doesn’t speak, thanks to a childhood trauma, one that’s unknown until the end of the book. What he’s really good at is picking locks and drawing. Hamilton skillfully maneuvers the story back and forth through time, at once creating the character’s Milford childhood and then showing what his life as a successful “box man” is like. The lock picking details make the book much more interesting and memorable, but it’s the unforgettable character of Mike who will probably stay with you. Hamilton delivers a fast paced, well crafted story that will also break your heart. False Mermaid, Erin Hart, Scribner, $26.00. If I were pressed, I would have to say this was my favorite book of the year - in my initial review I said that the best books are read with a lump in your throat, thanks to a combination of emotion, narrative and character. The third in Hart’s fine Nora Gavin series, this is just such a book. Hart’s time off has matured and deepened her writing even more - which is saying a lot. In this one she weaves together myth and metaphor to tell the surface-simple story of Nora returning home to Minnesota from Ireland to find out who was responsible for her sister’s five year old murder. Grief and distance have created an estrangement between Nora and her parents; she’s coming home to old family entanglements that have to be dealt with as well. Hart is a writer who has many similarities to Elizabeth George, P.D. James, Louise Penny and Deborah Crombie, with a similar skill set of complex character development and a story that accumulates more depth as the book progresses. She also shares some of Penny’s poetry. This is a compelling and well crafted story of grief and attachment, highlighted by lovely writing. Welcome back to a major talent. Snakes Can’t Run, Ed Lin, Minotaur, $24.99. For me, Ed Lin wins points for originality, but he’s also a flat out terrific writer. There are layers of thoughtful storytelling here, all drawing a richly detailed picture of life in New York City’s Chinatown in the late 70's as Vietnam Vet Robert Chow works his beat as a cop. Robert, an ABC (American Born Chinese), is pulled in all sorts of directions, and it’s partly this difficult journey of self discovery that makes this book so rich. But also excellent is Lin’s detailed look at the different classes of Chinese society; his story, centering on snakeheads smuggling illegal immigrants illuminating his theme perfectly. The book is noir in that almost everyone in it is corrupt or untrustworthy. The matter of fact way Lin tells his story belies the richness of character and setting that make this book a standout. You won’t forget Robert Chow anytime soon. Slow Fire, Ken Mercer, Minotaur, $25.99. While I’m not a huge noir fan, I admit it’s power. This book is pretty noir, though it’s central character, Will Magowan, taking a last ditch job as sheriff of a tiny California town, is a very appealingly flawed and heartbroken one. Will has come to town to help solve a persistent meth problem, about the most noirish problem there could be in the modern storytelling lexicon. One of the things I really liked about this book is that it could have gone the way of a more literary type thriller - and Mercer has the writing chops to head that direction - but by full heartedly embracing the genre, he soars into the stratosphere with his story, which is full of classic noir elements and mystery tropes (ex-wife, powerful bad guy, newbie detective partner, doubtful city official). He soars by making Will so indelible, and by the sheer force of his storytelling. I guess that’s called passion, and it’s great to see no matter what form it takes. Bury Your Dead, Louise Penny, Minotaur, $24.99. So far Louise hasn’t made a misstep, but far from being just “not a misstep”, this now (probably) mid series novel is instead a knockout. It’s set in beautiful Quebec city at the Literary and Historical library there. Gamache has come to Quebec to recover from a trauma that’s teased out throughout the novel, and along the way he literally comes across a body in the basement when one is discovered in the library. Weaving together several plot lines, one about the missing Samuel de Champlain - Quebec’s founder, about whom surprisingly little is known - one about Gamache’s grief and another involving Three Pines, Penny’s now well established skills are all on display. She is really wonderful at making a complicated interweaving of plots completely compelling and moving, and as always, her prose simply sparkles. She is one of the most beautiful writers of just plain prose, in my opinion, in all of contemporary mystery fiction. There’s not much not to like here, and this far into the series, there are lots of other readers who agree with me. Gamache and Three Pines have seduced many a reader, and this one is another love letter from his creator. A Curtain Falls, Stefanie Pintoff, Minotaur, $24.99. I flat out love Stefanie Pintoff’s books. People compare her turn of the century New York City books to Caleb Carr’s, but I think it won’t be long before that’s the other way around. She certainly has a more concise way of telling a story. She’s terrific at character, she’s terrific at plot, and she’s got a great sense of narrative drive. The details of 19th century New York are simply a bonus - this is a good book that also happens to be an historical. She is also able to take that most overused of tropes, the serial killer, and make it fresh. In this one, the killer, who is plucking Broadway beauties and arranging them artfully after death, leaves notes and letters for the newspapers. Along the way she explores the new science of hand writing analysis, as well as the burgeoning growth of the Great White Way. Even better, her series character, Detective Simon Ziele, is so well drawn and likeable he’s bound to make the series stronger. On the Line, S.J. Rozan, Minotaur, $24.99. While I enjoy S.J. Rozan in general, one of the things I truly enjoy about her is the fact that each of her books are so different. One of the ways she does this is her unique shifting narrator concept, which allows her a different voice in each book. In this one, a Bill Smith entry, Lydia has been kidnaped and Bill has 12 hours to find her. Rozan’s deft mix of humor, suspense and great characters tied to an always surprising plotline make this book not only a stand out read, but an absolute blast. Absolute blasts are rare - so I also owe Rozan a thank you. There were few books I plain enjoyed so much all year. Favorite Discovery The Detroit Electric Scheme, D.E. Johnson, Minotaur, $24.99. This book was a delightful surprise. Johnson’s historical novel set in 1910 Detroit takes place as the car business was being born. He really captures the creativity and vitality of what was going on as the automobile was being refined and invented, and I say this as someone whose main interest in cars is getting in one, turning a key, and having it start. He’s also a good, dark storyteller, whose main character, Will Anderson, is the somewhat troubled son of the owner of an electric car company. It’s of course ironic to read about the decline of electric cars back in 1910 as they now seem like the future. When the main problem with gasoline cars -starting them - was resolved, this left electric cars, with their mileage limitations, in the dust. The story starts when Will find the dead body of his ex-fiancee’s fiancee horribly mutilated in a hydraulic press on the floor of his father’s company. His clumsy attempts to cover this up end up making him the prime suspect. While this isn’t a true noir - Will has some good qualities - it’s pretty darn close. Will’s journey of self discovery and detection is a very compelling one. I liked that Johnson’s history lesson concerns not the ways people lived (though of course that’s included to some degree), but the ways business was done in 1910. It’s fascinating. Will is an interesting enough character to carry many installments. Johnson is especially deft at creating not just his main character, but an array of characters, and he really makes you feel like you are back in 1910. This is a wonderful first effort. Did you ever wonder why we call one of the rooms in our homes a "Living Room?" It always seemed strange to me. The room's not alive. Yes, we live in it, but we live in all the other rooms as well. The story behind the name is an interesting one:
Traditionally, when a family member died the family would display the body in the parlor for services. In Detroit in the early Twentieth Century, if you were rich enough or well-connected enough, you could get the Detroit United Railways Funeral Train, via the streetcar rails, to pick up the body at your house to transport it to the cemetery. If you were like most of us, you would have your mortician provide a wagon or carriage to do the job. But on to the Living Room. "Professional Mourners" had been around for a long time, but they really became popular in the early 1900's. By 1910, the year in which The Detroit Electric Scheme is set, these "Funeral Parlors" were popping up all over the place. People wanted the bodies out of the house. As the funeral parlors grew in popularity, the word "parlor" became associated with funerals. Since "parlor" was associated with death, a new name caught on for the parlor that was everything "parlor" was not. It was . . wait for it . . . wait for it . . . the "Living Room." (This one turned on a light bulb over my head.) |
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