Rapid Data Rapidman 1212 calculator
Dublin Core
Title
Rapid Data Rapidman 1212 calculator
Subject
hardware: desk-top digital electronic calculator
Description
Historical context
(by Z. Stachniak)
In the early 1970s, the consumer electronics market was going through one of the hottest periods in its history. Advancements in microelectronics, especially in integrated circuit technologies, had made it possible to offer inexpensive desktop and, soon after, hand-held digital electronic calculators. In 1971, the promise of a calculator power at your finger tips (pledged by Bowmar Instrument, Cannon, and, soon after, by scores of other calculator manufacturers) was rapidly gaining social acceptance. It was the idea of a personal, inexpensive, powerful electronic calculating device for your own unrestricted use, always in your pocket, in your briefcase, or on your desk that made the pocket calculator one of the most desired electronic gadgets of the first half of the 1970s.
Commodore Business Machines (founded in 1958 in Toronto) and Rapid Data Systems and Equipment Ltd. (incorporated in 1962 in Toronto) were the earliest Canadian companies that offered their own electronic desktop and pocket-sized calculators.
Rapid Data's first calculator--the Rapidman 800--was introduced in February 1972 at the time when intense competition put immense pricing pressure to offer hand-held calculators for under $100 and the stores across North America were racing to be the first to sell them. In early 1972, to win the race, Alexander's--New York's iconic department store chain--ordered 20,000 Rapidman 800s to be sold at $99.99. In a short succession, the Rapidman 800 was followed by the 801, 802, 804, 812, (introduced in 1974(?)) and 824 hand-helds.
In his 2005 recollections written for York University Computer Museum, Henry Dasko--a former European Sales Manager at Rapid Data--describes the company's corporate history and his involvement with Rapid Data in the following way.
"The year was 1971, late Spring. I had been in Canada for just over a year and was looking for a job. Ideally it would be something in exports. But most of Canada's exports were raw materials and commodities and I had no experience and no feel for that.
Finally, I found an ad that seemed to give me a chance. An electronics company was looking for someone with languages. I applied and soon got a phone call.
"You say you speak Russian," the voice said.
"I do."
"How many years did you study Russian?"
"Fourteen."
"OK, come for an interview."
I did, to a modern, low building near the Toronto airport.
"We make calculators," a well groomed, silver haired man told me.
I had no idea what a calculator was.
"A Soviet trade delegation is coming to see us. They would like to buy our technology. We are not going to sell it to them, but we will talk to them. Let’s see how well you do."
I did well enough. The Russians left and I was told to return the following day. I had a low level job in the International Marketing Department. My boss was to be one Rick Denda, whom I hadn't met - he was travelling in Europe, but his silver Ferrari 330 and his white Mercedes sedan were sitting in the company lot. I liked him already.
He returned soon and we got along fine. I familiarized myself with the product line and was told to gather as much information about competitive products as possible.
Our most popular model was a pocket calculator named Rapidman 800. It had 8-digit [display] capacity and could perform four basic functions. Hang tab keys were molded into the case. Decimal point was fixed at 2. Individual LEDs were hand inserted into the PCB. It was difficult to align them, and they were almost always crooked. The unit was made on an electronics assembly line in London, Ontario. It sold for $100.
Our biggest export market was in the US, where we had our own branch in Detroit. I had nothing to do with it. My responsibility was the secondary markets, where we dealt with export agents and distributors. We communicated via telex, which I learned to use.
Selling was not a problem. We just could not get enough product. Everyone wanted it. Sometimes the requests were outrageous.
"I am calling you from the cabinet of the president of Chile," Leslie Sebastian, a Hungarian expatriate yelled at me. "I want 100,000 calculators and I want them now. Every schoolchild in Chile is going to have his own machine. Chile will be the first in the world."
Soon we had several competitors - American companies Texas Instruments and Bowmar, and the Japanese giant Sharp, which offered an elegant brushed aluminum box with large, glowing, diffused LEDs. There was also a Canadian competitor named Commodore. Its president was Jack Tramiel who, like me, was a Polish Jew. In Polish, his real name was Trzmiel, pronounced "Chmiel", which in Polish means "hornet". He was an Auschwitz survivor with a number tattooed on his forearm. A bear of a man. He started a typewriter service shop in the Polish area of Toronto.
The president of our company, Clive Raymond, was very different. He was born in India, where his father was a British colonial officer.
In Canada he ran an office equipment company named Roneo Vickers, which specialized in spirit duplicator machines. He was a portly, elegant man with commanding presence.
I met our design engineers, who were responsible for technology development. Their names were Joe Kelly and Joe Tari and they both came from an academic background. Raymond gave them a long term contract and shares in Rapid Data.
Soon our product line expanded. We added model 801 with a floating decimal point and a model 812 with 12-digit capacity and full memory. Rapidman 824 was one of the first to perform complex scientific calculations.
We also made desktop calculators, powered by the mains. A 12-digits Rapidman 1212 and even more sophisticated Rapidman 1220, both using orange coloured gas discharge Panaplex displays we bought from Burroughs Corporation in New Jersey. We also made printing calculators, which recorded calculations on a paper ribbon. The printing heads came from Seiko Corporation in Japan.
Most of our chips except for the small Rapidman 800 came from an aerospace company in California, named Rockwell International.
Financing for our company came from the Eaton's Pension Fund, where Raymond knew people.
Even though there weren't enough calculators to fill the orders, prices were plummeting. I understood it to be the rule in electronics. The same phenomenon had happened previously with transistor radios.
I was doing well. Soon I was promoted to European Sales Manager and transferred to Shannon, Southern Ireland, where we had a distribution facility in a tax-free economic zone.
But the company was not doing well. In printers, which were the most profitable product, we have fallen behind technology curve. Printing heads had a spinning roller, which in the first generation model emitted annoying buzz. Seiko subsequently developed a silent printer, but would only sell it to Japanese calculator makers.
I understood then that it wasn't how many products you sold, but how much profit you made - a principle which stayed with me throughout my professional life.
Rapid Data was losing money. Soon Rockwell and Eaton's demanded payments which we couldn't make. Even though we all worked very hard and the spirit of the company was fantastic, Rapid Data had to close down in the largest Canadian bankruptcy in Canadian history. We all lost our jobs. For me personally it was a very sad moment, but I have learned a lot and was confident of the future. I wasn't wrong - I had gained experience in electronics, and electronics was the name of the game. Within three months I had another job."
Rapidman 1212 features:
Museum holdings:
The museum has a Rapidman 1212, serial number 26354.
(by Z. Stachniak)
In the early 1970s, the consumer electronics market was going through one of the hottest periods in its history. Advancements in microelectronics, especially in integrated circuit technologies, had made it possible to offer inexpensive desktop and, soon after, hand-held digital electronic calculators. In 1971, the promise of a calculator power at your finger tips (pledged by Bowmar Instrument, Cannon, and, soon after, by scores of other calculator manufacturers) was rapidly gaining social acceptance. It was the idea of a personal, inexpensive, powerful electronic calculating device for your own unrestricted use, always in your pocket, in your briefcase, or on your desk that made the pocket calculator one of the most desired electronic gadgets of the first half of the 1970s.
Commodore Business Machines (founded in 1958 in Toronto) and Rapid Data Systems and Equipment Ltd. (incorporated in 1962 in Toronto) were the earliest Canadian companies that offered their own electronic desktop and pocket-sized calculators.
Rapid Data's first calculator--the Rapidman 800--was introduced in February 1972 at the time when intense competition put immense pricing pressure to offer hand-held calculators for under $100 and the stores across North America were racing to be the first to sell them. In early 1972, to win the race, Alexander's--New York's iconic department store chain--ordered 20,000 Rapidman 800s to be sold at $99.99. In a short succession, the Rapidman 800 was followed by the 801, 802, 804, 812, (introduced in 1974(?)) and 824 hand-helds.
In his 2005 recollections written for York University Computer Museum, Henry Dasko--a former European Sales Manager at Rapid Data--describes the company's corporate history and his involvement with Rapid Data in the following way.
"The year was 1971, late Spring. I had been in Canada for just over a year and was looking for a job. Ideally it would be something in exports. But most of Canada's exports were raw materials and commodities and I had no experience and no feel for that.
Finally, I found an ad that seemed to give me a chance. An electronics company was looking for someone with languages. I applied and soon got a phone call.
"You say you speak Russian," the voice said.
"I do."
"How many years did you study Russian?"
"Fourteen."
"OK, come for an interview."
I did, to a modern, low building near the Toronto airport.
"We make calculators," a well groomed, silver haired man told me.
I had no idea what a calculator was.
"A Soviet trade delegation is coming to see us. They would like to buy our technology. We are not going to sell it to them, but we will talk to them. Let’s see how well you do."
I did well enough. The Russians left and I was told to return the following day. I had a low level job in the International Marketing Department. My boss was to be one Rick Denda, whom I hadn't met - he was travelling in Europe, but his silver Ferrari 330 and his white Mercedes sedan were sitting in the company lot. I liked him already.
He returned soon and we got along fine. I familiarized myself with the product line and was told to gather as much information about competitive products as possible.
Our most popular model was a pocket calculator named Rapidman 800. It had 8-digit [display] capacity and could perform four basic functions. Hang tab keys were molded into the case. Decimal point was fixed at 2. Individual LEDs were hand inserted into the PCB. It was difficult to align them, and they were almost always crooked. The unit was made on an electronics assembly line in London, Ontario. It sold for $100.
Our biggest export market was in the US, where we had our own branch in Detroit. I had nothing to do with it. My responsibility was the secondary markets, where we dealt with export agents and distributors. We communicated via telex, which I learned to use.
Selling was not a problem. We just could not get enough product. Everyone wanted it. Sometimes the requests were outrageous.
"I am calling you from the cabinet of the president of Chile," Leslie Sebastian, a Hungarian expatriate yelled at me. "I want 100,000 calculators and I want them now. Every schoolchild in Chile is going to have his own machine. Chile will be the first in the world."
Soon we had several competitors - American companies Texas Instruments and Bowmar, and the Japanese giant Sharp, which offered an elegant brushed aluminum box with large, glowing, diffused LEDs. There was also a Canadian competitor named Commodore. Its president was Jack Tramiel who, like me, was a Polish Jew. In Polish, his real name was Trzmiel, pronounced "Chmiel", which in Polish means "hornet". He was an Auschwitz survivor with a number tattooed on his forearm. A bear of a man. He started a typewriter service shop in the Polish area of Toronto.
The president of our company, Clive Raymond, was very different. He was born in India, where his father was a British colonial officer.
In Canada he ran an office equipment company named Roneo Vickers, which specialized in spirit duplicator machines. He was a portly, elegant man with commanding presence.
I met our design engineers, who were responsible for technology development. Their names were Joe Kelly and Joe Tari and they both came from an academic background. Raymond gave them a long term contract and shares in Rapid Data.
Soon our product line expanded. We added model 801 with a floating decimal point and a model 812 with 12-digit capacity and full memory. Rapidman 824 was one of the first to perform complex scientific calculations.
We also made desktop calculators, powered by the mains. A 12-digits Rapidman 1212 and even more sophisticated Rapidman 1220, both using orange coloured gas discharge Panaplex displays we bought from Burroughs Corporation in New Jersey. We also made printing calculators, which recorded calculations on a paper ribbon. The printing heads came from Seiko Corporation in Japan.
Most of our chips except for the small Rapidman 800 came from an aerospace company in California, named Rockwell International.
Financing for our company came from the Eaton's Pension Fund, where Raymond knew people.
Even though there weren't enough calculators to fill the orders, prices were plummeting. I understood it to be the rule in electronics. The same phenomenon had happened previously with transistor radios.
I was doing well. Soon I was promoted to European Sales Manager and transferred to Shannon, Southern Ireland, where we had a distribution facility in a tax-free economic zone.
But the company was not doing well. In printers, which were the most profitable product, we have fallen behind technology curve. Printing heads had a spinning roller, which in the first generation model emitted annoying buzz. Seiko subsequently developed a silent printer, but would only sell it to Japanese calculator makers.
I understood then that it wasn't how many products you sold, but how much profit you made - a principle which stayed with me throughout my professional life.
Rapid Data was losing money. Soon Rockwell and Eaton's demanded payments which we couldn't make. Even though we all worked very hard and the spirit of the company was fantastic, Rapid Data had to close down in the largest Canadian bankruptcy in Canadian history. We all lost our jobs. For me personally it was a very sad moment, but I have learned a lot and was confident of the future. I wasn't wrong - I had gained experience in electronics, and electronics was the name of the game. Within three months I had another job."
Rapidman 1212 features:
- 12 digit display,
- 4 functions (+, -, x, ÷), automatic percent calculations,
- full floating decimal system, decimal position selectable 0-5 places from keyboard,
- indicators: negative sign, overflow, and memory in use,
- 24-key keyboard with entry correction and percent, clearing, change, and exchang keys as well as memory addition/subtraction, memory recall, and clear memory keys.
- 3 registers (1 numeric, 1 constant, and 1 memory)
- CPU: LSI single chip
Museum holdings:
The museum has a Rapidman 1212, serial number 26354.
Creator
Rapid Data Systems and Equipment Ltd., Toronto, Canada
Date
introduced in 1974(?)
Coverage
world, 1974(?)-
Contribution Form
Online Submission
No
Files
Citation
Rapid Data Systems and Equipment Ltd., Toronto, Canada, “Rapid Data Rapidman 1212 calculator,” York University Computer Museum Canada, accessed November 23, 2024, https://museum.eecs.yorku.ca/items/show/16.