It came from the East Coast. Rusted and broken, I couldn't help but take pity on it and attempt restoration. The paint's mostly intact, the decals are in good shape, and the mechanism is entirely frozen in every way possible. Shift wont work, typebars wont move, and more.
The arms, as always on Corona 3's it seems, are rusted.
The "G" defiantly sticks up for no reason I can discern what-so-ever.
At least the carriage is on the machine and working prope...
Oh for typewriter's sake, you've got to be kidding me.
One of the metal guides which clamp the carriage down was snapped off entirely. Which means there is only one sane option left. Tear the machine apart.
Steady as she goes...
Things are going nice and smooth...
We hit an iceberg. S.O.S. sent out. Nearest ship 4 hours out. By the time help arrived, it was too late: The machine was down to its separate pieces. There were no survivors.
Can you smell that? Its the oddly pine-y scent of a North Idaho "Do You Want To Build" coming to a typosphere near you!
After tearing the poor corona to bits, I discovered an antique store in town which I had never been to. Alongside an old 30's philco radio I picked up, I ended up purchasing a machine I never thought I would own. Not due to rarity, but due to not caring much for newer machines. But when I asked the man behind the counter for the price, He rubbed his chin and said $35, at which point due to my understanding that these things type like magic I responded "Ill take it."
My first, and probably going to be only, post-war typewriter. An Olympia. I've no clue the model, but the Database leads me to believe it to be a 1958 or 1966 machine.
Most astonishing to me, the rubber feet were still nice and rubbery. And the words spoken about these machines seem to be true: It types like nothing else. Especially when I turned the touch control all the way down. Fast. As. Lightning.