Typewriter Tom fuels a growing interest in analog writing devices
Late one evening a few years ago, Tom Rehkopf got a phone call from an unfamiliar number.
The caller had an unusual request: “I need six working Selectrics by tomorrow morning.”
Rehkopf was stunned.
“I said, ‘You’re probably calling the one person in the state of Georgia who can answer yes to that question.”
Why did the caller need a half-dozen Vietnam War era typewriters immediately? For a movie set. The typewriters were to be featured in “The Glorias,” a 2020 biopic about feminist icon Gloria Steinem that was filming in Savannah.
And why did they call Rehkopf? Because of the time he met Tom Hanks. But we’ll get to that later.
Rehkopf, 82, is a typewriter collector. His collection tops around 1,000, featuring everything from the work-a-day Royal Quiet Deluxe, an American machine mass-produced in the 1940s and 50s, to a rare green Olivetti ICO, an Italian jewel from the 1930s. Some date back to the 1890s.
It’s the largest typewriter collection in the Southeast, public or private, as far as he knows.
He’s hesitant about choosing a favorite, though.
“It’s kind of like asking which one of your kids you like the best,” he said. In general he prefers machines with a simple, light keystroke like the German Erika, a typewriter so smooth that “within a couple seconds it just disappears” as he writes.
Old machines, new audience
Typewriters are enjoying something of a comeback similar to film photography and vinyl records. While there are no longer any shops in metro Atlanta that specialize in manual typewriters, new stores have recently opened in Chicago, Dayton, Ohio, and Merrimack, New Hampshire. A typewriter festival launched three years ago in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where the machine was invented.
Young people disenchanted with screens seem to yearn for the kind of kinesthetic experience that has so enchanted Rehkopf: the slap of a typebar hitting paper, the smell of a newly greased machine, the sound of a bell signaling when it’s time to perform a carriage return.
“I like the fact that when I strike the key, I can actually see something happen,” Rehkopf said. “I spent 50 years in IT around computers that do nothing but stare back at you and blink. The fact that you actually get a response (with a typewriter) is exciting.”
A Roswell retiree from AT&T and Bell Labs, Rehkopf has always been something of a magpie. In addition to his typewriters, he has hundreds of fountain pens and dozens of radios.
He started picking up antique typewriters about 50 years ago, and his habit has accelerated in the last 25 years or so. He also sells machines and has noticed an uptick in interest from teenagers and young adults.
“A lot of people who are my age, they are very artistic and they’re looking for ways to increase their creativity and increase their inspiration,” said Seth Petero. The 22-year-old filmmaker is a member of the Atlanta Typewriter Club, a group of about a dozen local enthusiasts co-founded by Rehkopf.
In the year since he joined the club, Petero has accumulated 20 typewriters. He uses his Smith Corona Silent Portable, a birthday present from his aunt, to write scripts.
Switching to the typewriter for one long-term project was a revelation: “In an hour I made more progress and made better work than I had in two years.”
The other Typewriter Tom
Most days, you can often find Rehkopf at his home workshop, holding a flashlight between his teeth and squinting into the guts of some ancient Underwood or Hermes. He may be wearing one of his several typewriter-themed T-shirts, one of which says “Typewriter Tom,” a surprise gift from his wife.
The workshop ― along with six off-site storage units he calls the “catacombs” ― is stacked to the ceiling with typewriters, not all of which are functional.
Part of his hobby includes repairing and maintaining the machines. Sometimes he even makes his own parts with a 3D printer. He attributes his urge to tinker to his father, a career Navy man with a fix-it-yourself ethos.
This technical acumen came in useful during the filming of “The Glorias,” which brings us back to Tom Hanks.
Rehkopf loves to tell this story, pulling out his phone to show a photo of him posing with the celebrated actor. Rehkopf was hanging out at Progressive Methods, an office supply store in Buckhead that sold typewriters but has since shuttered. Some black SUVs pulled in front of the store.
“I said, ‘It’s either the cops or the mafia ― you need to get out of here pretty quick!’ Somebody said, ‘No, it’s Tom Hanks!’”
Hanks is a typewriter aficionado known to drop by local shops to hunt for treasures for his own collection, which numbers around 30. Hanks, who wrote a short story collection centered on the machines, made news recently after responding to letters typewritten to him by schoolchildren in Pennsylvania.
When Hanks learned Rehkopf was a local collector, he took Rehkopf’s contact information, leading to that request for Selectrics. When there were some mechanical malfunctions on the set of “The Glorias,” Rehkopf was able to provide tech support.
“The Selectric has 3,000 parts and 300 adjustable points. If you don’t get those all just right, it’s not going to be happy,” he said.
Since “The Glorias,” his typewriters have appeared in several major productions, including the reboot of “The Wonder Years” and the National Geographic series “Genius.”
Disconnect from technology
Typewriters keep Rehkopf’s schedule full: He’s had 18 events so far this year.
In October, Rehkopf brought 15 “kid-friendly” machines to Cumming’s Brookwood Elementary School, where he was invited to teach fifth graders about typewriters. Later in the month he hauled another 15 to Emory University for a “typewriter petting zoo,” coinciding with a typewriter-themed exhibit at Woodruff Library.
First-year student Karma Jones stumbled upon the petting zoo while searching for a place to study. The typewriters, neatly lined up at tables, were loaded with paper and ready to be tested.
“I really enjoyed seeing the progression of technology,” she said, noting that the typewriters ranged from manual to electric and included a variety of special features, such as an italic font. She has her own typewriter at home in Kansas City, Missouri, that she got in middle school after developing a fascination with the 19th century.
Recently, she says, she’s been trying to disconnect more from technology. Sitting in front of a typewriter again reminded her that it’s possible to type without being sucked in by the distractions of a computer.
Speaking of distractions, Rehkopf doesn’t want his hobby to get sidetracked. As his reputation grows and he gets tapped for sales and repairs, Rehkopf worries he’s in danger of becoming a businessman, having to maintain spreadsheets, update websites, take payments.
“It’s kind of a nuclear reaction,” he says. “You reach some point where it’s a self-sustaining enterprise and you have to stop it.”
Running transactions is not his vision for the future. He’s more interested in keeping things fun, for himself and for others. (For what it’s worth, he has managed not to create any spreadsheets, despite his wife’s insistence. He says he knows more or less where everything is tucked away.)
“Some collectors keep stuff to themselves. I’m the other way around,” he said. “I want people to see (my collection) and get some pleasure out of it. I’ll go anywhere they ask me to show it.”
IF YOU GO
“Striking Characters: Typewriters, Literary Worlds and the Art of Tim Youd.”
Through Dec. 20. 7:30 a.m.-7 p.m. Monday-Friday. Free. Emory University, Robert W. Woodruff Library, third floor, 1462 Clifton Road, Atlanta. libraries.emory.edu
