The chemistry set, no matches allowed (how I devised a way around that problem)
I received a favorite Christmas gift when I was about ten years old. It was a Gilbert Chemistry set.
It was the biggest most complete set available at the time. It came with a wide variety of chemicals as well as all the necessary equipment to carry out a broad range of experiments, test tubes, thermometers, eye droppers, and an “alcohol burner”.
I was delighted with this kit. But unfortunately, there were only a very limited number of experiments that could be carried out without the use of the alcohol burner. I ran through the experiments that didn’t require the burner in short order and was soon stymied because my Mom wouldn’t allow me to use any matches.
She was deathly afraid of fire because she told me when she was a child her family practiced the old German custom of actually using real lit candles on the Christmas tree and she experienced a Christmas tree fire in her home. This story may or may not have been true but nevertheless matches were strictly Verboten!
At first, I snitched a pack of matches when I could, and would use the alcohol burner in the basement where I had the chemistry set. But Mom could smell the sulfur dioxide odor from the burning matches, and I was caught several times and strongly discouraged from further pyrotechnics, at least with the matches.
I then discovered a classic elementary chemistry experiment I could easily carry out with the equipment and chemicals included in the set; the so called “artificial volcano” created with potassium permanganate and glycerol. Fortunately, the kit contained only small quantities of permanganate and glycerol since this can be quite an explosive mixture.
By using very small quantities, the exothermic reaction would momentarily produce sufficient heat from which I could light a toothpick and in turn light off the alcohol burner, “Mater atrium necessitas” (Necessity is the mother of invention). Incidentally, the reaction is:
14KMnO4 + 4C3H5 (OH)3 → 7Mn2O3 + 7K2CO3 + 5CO2 + 16H2O
Unlike matches, the products from this reaction have no discernable odor. The products are magnesium oxide and potassium carbonate, both dry odorless powders, and the odorless gases carbon dioxide and water vapor. I used this method undetected for many, many months and Mom never did quite figure out what I was doing down there in the basement.
From time to time she would come down the stairs to see what I was up to, but I could hear her footsteps and would immediately extinguish the burner. She would ask, “You’re not using fire down here, are you?” I’d reply, “Fire? No, no fire here”. In reality, I knew she knew I was up to something, and she knew I knew she knew, but she let it slide.
“My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it.” Mark Twain
Well soon I ran out of permanganate and glycerol since quantities that came with the set were limited. However, a friend my age, Michael Serwatka, was also interested in chemistry. He and I would often get together and carry out experiments. Well, Michael knew of a business close by, Edmund Scientific, that sold an assortment of interesting scientific gizmos as well as larger quantities of chemicals. Frequently, we would convince either his Mom or mine to drive us to Edmund Scientific to resupply our respective “laboratories” with chemical reagents. I went through a significant quantity of permanganate and glycerol, but Mom never suspected what they were for. That is, until the Science Fair.
Somewhere around the 6th grade, the school held a Science Fair where the kids could complete a science project and put it on display. It was a competition and the prizes were awarded for the three best projects. I entered the competition with the so-called ‘artificial volcano’.
I made a paper mache model of a mountain around a mason jar and placed a small quantity of potassium permanganate powder in the bottom of the jar. When glycerol was added to the jar, the thing would start to smoke (CO2 and H2O) and after a minute or two a flame would burst from the mouth of the jar. I’ve got to admit it was pretty impressive. Mom, however, was not that impressed. She was impressed that I got second place in the Science Fair, but she made the connection and my days of getting away with flammable experiments in the basement were over.
Michael Serwatka was one of two really close childhood friends I had during that early period in my life. Although he lived in the same town, unfortunately it was too far for either of us to walk to each other’s home, so we depended on our mothers to drive us to get together. However, my Mom and his Mom never hesitated, and we spent a fair amount of time together. Michael was a very positive influence. My Mom knew he was a very intelligent kid and strongly encouraged our friendship.
When we were about ten years old, he taught me to play chess and we played many sessions together most of which he won. I lost touch with him when I was bused across town to attend Junior High School and he attended a different school. However, I ran into his older sister a few years later and inquired about him. She told me he skipped two years of high school and was accepted at Princeton University to major in mathematics. I’ve tried to track him down so far without success. The best lead I found is an internet search that turned up a Michael R. Serwatka, 72 years old living in Boulder, CO. Could be him.
The Gilbert Erector Set
A close second right behind the chemistry set was the Gilbert Erector Set. It included pulleys, gears, and electric motor and all the nuts and bolts you would need to build all sorts of mechanical toys, devices and gizmos. It was the premier pre–Lego educational play toy.
So, between the chemistry set and the erector set, all of my spare time outside of school was spent messing around with these two treasure troves providing many hours of endless amusement. In hindsight, it was no surprise once I got my act together academically, I eventually gravitated to mechanical and then chemical engineering as a lifelong profession.
Lincoln Logs
The other favorite I spent many hours with building and rebuilding model cabins with were my Lincoln Logs.
A sawmill made from Lincoln Logs.
Lincoln Logs is a U.S. children’s toy consisting of notched miniature logs, used to build small forts and buildings. They were invented by John Lloyd Wright, second son of the architect Frank Lloyd Wright.[1]Lincoln Logs were inducted into the National Toy Hall of Fame in 1999. As of 2014 Lincoln Logs are manufactured by K’NEX Industries Inc.
Design
The logs measure three quarters of an inch (roughly two centimeters) in diameter. Analogous to real logs used in a log cabin, Lincoln Logs are notched so that logs may be laid at right angles to each other to form rectangles resembling buildings. Additional parts of the toy set include roofs, chimneys, windows and doors, which bring a realistic appearance to the final creation. Later sets included animals and human figures the same scale as the buildings.
The toy sets were originally made of redwood, with varying colors of roof pieces. In the 1970s the company unsuccessfully introduced sets made entirely of plastic, but soon reverted to real wood.
Crystal Radio Kit
My dad bought me a crystal radio kit that I could assemble myself using the materials in the kit and electrical schematic diagram that came with it. I really enjoyed building it as well as playing the radio in my bedroom at night before going to sleep. t was my first introduction to the field of electronics.
Heathkit – Short Wave Radio Kit
When I was a little older and could handle a soldering iron, Dad bought me a short-wave radio kit for a birthday gift. This one was a real challenge. The schematic was complicated, and the soldering work involved some very small parts and intricate wiring. I worked on this one for months before I finally finished it. It was a big accomplishment for me, and I spent many hours for the next several years listening to short wave broadcasts on that set.
So long, good-bye and have a nice day!
Long Story Short: A Collection of Stories by Hal Gunardson 
