1926 Singer 99 - Part 2

Before I start in on the second part of the 1926 Singer 99 restoration, I want to apologize for not getting it posted sooner. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball from out in left-field, and if you aren't looking for it, it smacks you in the side of the head. It's been one of those months, and life and family take priority over any leisure time I have. Things still haven't settled down, but I have found a moment or two to hide myself away in my projects.

Now, on to the fun stuff!

In Part 1, I spent most of the post disassembling the electronics and removing the machine from its Bentwood case. It never ceases to amaze me at just how much gunk accumulates on these vintage machines. Granted, this one is 86 years old, but a little dust rag here and there wouldn't have hurt it over the years.

The accumulated dirt underneath where the motor sits.

After removing the electrics, I began assessing the condition of the machine's mechanics. Digging into the hook area and needle bar area, this machine showed evidence of having been neglected as far as basic maintenance goes. The bobbin was still half full with some very old (and smelly) vintage thread. Removing the bobbin case on this 99 machine is identical to the other 99 that I have. Just lift the bobbin case retention bracket, and slide it to the right. This loosens the resistance on the bobbin case, and with a little wiggling, it should come right out. With the bobbin case removed, there must have been a pound of lint impacted into the hook area. Lint attracts moisture, mix moisture with metal, and you have a breeding ground for rust.

With the bobbin case bracket turned to the right, the bobbin case has been removed.
That's a lot of lint! 

The rust was evident on the bobbin case bracket. You can also see that someone had tried adjusting the retention spring in the past, as the screw head is nearly stripped. I wonder if the previous owner had thought adjusting the spring would solve whatever issue he/she was having with all of the impacted lint and thread trapped in the hook area.

Rust on the ejection spring; nearly stripped adjustment screw. BUT, the oil wick is in tact.

Normally, I would disassemble and clean a machine in sections. But since I've become familiar with the workings of the 99, and I have quite an assortment of pre-disassembly photos, I decided to keep removing parts and clean all at one time. It is easier that way for me.

I worked on the needle-bar assembly next. This was another area who's maintenance had been neglected. The pressure adjusting rod was heavily coated in rust, and its internal spring was very brittle.

Behind the face plate, the ol' girl shows her age.
Simple maintenance would keep this area fully functional.

The bottom spring is the original.
It fractured and broke three separate times because it was so brittle.
The top spring is the replace I bought off eBay.

Removing the needle-bar is still a bit scary for me. I worry about not being able to reset the timing when I put everything back together again. The truth is, these old machines are so simplistic in their nature (by today's standards), that putting it back together, and adjusting the timing is less difficult than I once imagined. One thing to note on this 1926 99 versus my 1950 99 - the 1950 actually has a timing gauge attached to the needle thread guide (seen on the left); the 1926 version does not. The 1926 should have had an older style timing mark system, but it was not there. In order to set the 1926's timing, you'll have to become familiar with the needle-bar's lowest and highest positions, and the position of the hook in relation to the needle. I'll cover that in re-assembly later.

The thread guide, with and without the Timing Gauge.

Removing the tension engaging arm was more difficult. On the 3/4-sized 99s, the arm is held in place by a pin, which must be tapped out. On larger sewing heads, that is usually held in by a screw. Once I figured out how to maneuver my tools and hands into position, the pin came out rather easily. Yes, it took a good whack or two with the rubber mallet and the drill punch, but it didn't offer much resistance.

The red arrow shows where the pin will come out.
Working from the underarm side of the head, drive the pin out
with a nail punch and a mallet.

Though it's out of focus, you can see the gunk coated on the pin as well.

Next up was the feed dog and hook drive mechanism. One screw holds the feed dogs in, and that same screw can adjust height clearance as well. A series of tap rollers controls the motion of the feed dogs and the hook. Over time, these rollers become clogged with lint and debris, and if not properly maintained, they will seize up and no longer roll freely. When this happens, flat spots will develop. I was fortunate with this machine - although the rollers had seized, they had not yet developed flat spots. Once I cleaned and thoroughly oiled them, they roll freely and smoothly.

Feed Regulator - the feed dogs attach here. This roller should turn freely.

The Feed Raising Bar and its roller. It too should spin freely.

Once the bottom end parts have been removed and begun their soaking process, I move back to the top and rear of the sewing head. On top of the model 99, there is an combination screw/bushing (Arm Rock Shaft Screw) whose oiling access point is right next to the spool pin. Often times, you'll see a spool pin wedged into this access hole. I like to remove this bushing and clean it out thoroughly. It is more than likely fully clogged with lint and debris, and little to no oil can pass through the small opening in the bottom. When I removed the bushing from this machine, it was jam-packed with gunk. You should be able to see the opening in the photo. Oil flows from here to the Arm Rock Shaft in the pillar of the machine head. Since the 99 does not have an access panel from the backside, proper maintenance of this bushing is critical to a smooth running machine.

This oiling hole is often plugged with lint and debris. It must be kept
clear in order for oil to penetrate to the Rocker Shaft below.

The last parts I remove are the stitch regulator screw, and the Feed Forked Connection and assembly. The screw just below the hand-wheel holds this mechanism in place. But be warned - on these 3/4-sized machines, it can be a beast putting it back together again. Sometimes I find I need six hands and a contortionist's degree. But with a little patience, it can be done. Having a magnetic screwdriver doesn't hurt either. Stupidly, I did not photograph the removal process for this. I have done it before with a Singer 128 and it is near identical to the 99 in this aspect and I'll look for a photo from that rebuild to add here later.

Part 3 will cover the re-assembly and timing of the machine. And Part 4 will cover the motor and electrics re-wire. {Edit - this changed a bit, as now there will be 5 parts. Part 3 - Cleaning; Part 4 - Reassembly & Timing; Part 5 - Electrical.} As I go along, if there are any parts or sections that you would like more information on, please let me know and I'll try to cover or explain them as I understand them to work.

1950 Singer 99k - Finished

The 1950 Singer 99k is finally finished. All the moving parts have been removed, cleaned, polished, replaced and now operate properly. The motor and foot controller have been re-wired. And the 'bug-eye' light from hell has been re-wired. So, here you go....

1950 Singer 99k in full working glory.

This isn't a really good picture, but if you compare it to the 'before' shot, she's a beauty!

I can't believe this is the same machine as above. 

And to top it all off, shortly after I finished her (aka "Ann"), I found a 1926 Singer 99 (US made) for $25, complete with all the parts and pieces. I've been feverishly working on "Ruby" and thanks to my new friend Michelle donating a few parts, that machine is now finished. I'll post a complete set of rebuild posts for the 1926 Singer 99. I'm really pleased how both of these machines have turned out. I'll try and have those posts up by the end of the week, before I start on my next projects.

Next on the list: 1914 Singer 66-1 "Red Eye". I've been lusting after a Red-Eye machine for a while, and found one at the right price. Once she's done, I'll place her in the treadle where she can be appreciated on a daily basis.

And as luck would have it, I stumbled upon a 1957 Singer 401A at a yard sale last Friday. Yes, it came home with me; I couldn't help myself. But that machine is fully intended to be refurbished and re-sold. I already have my grandmother's 401, so I don't really need two of them. And then of course, there's the 1951 Centennial Edition Featherweight 221 that found its way to my house as well. Sigh. I swear I'm not addicted, honest.  Well, okay, maybe a little bit. But at least it keeps me busy and out of the refrigerator. Good Lord, candy corn is calling my name.

Progress Cometh (Singer 99k pt. 2)

Work on the Singer 99k is progressing along quite nicely. When I began work on this machine, I initially thought it had a lot rust on the steel and plated pieces. After soaking those parts in a cleaner/degreaser, it turns out that most of the gunk as old dried oil, dirt and lint! You can see the difference in both the bobbin area and the needle bar area.

Bobbin area before

Bobbin area after.

Looks much better, yes? I was even able to keep the original red felt piece (in the upper right of the photo) that oils the hook as it oscillates!

I'm really beginning to think this 99k was neglected more than it was abused. There is still a small section of the duct tape that I was unable to remove. It really bothers me being there, but because the decal work is in such good condition, I didn't want to risk damaging it. I did slightly damage the black finish near it...sigh. I'm still pleased though. Hopefully with use, the wear of fabric across that area will help erode the residual tape gunk.

I am really pleased with the needle bar section as well. I fully disassemble that area, cleaned all the moving parts and replaced. This was the first time in taking a needle bar out; I was a bit hesitant, as I have read warnings about the difficulty in re-timing the machine when it is completely dismantled. But I've never been one to back down from a challenge.

Needle bar area before

Needle bar area after.

It helped that Singer was kind enough to place timing marks on the long horizontal thread guide bar. Without those, I would have had a much more difficult time of it. You can also see the that the 99k is sitting in its new base. It is an authentic Singer bentwood case, but this one originally had a knee-bar controller. I may add that to it in the future.

And the almost finished product....

Singer 99k, ready to sew (minus the motor)

I did temporarily attach the handwheel and crank from my Singer 128 (that's another post filled with rust and beauty). Let me tell you, this 99k makes one helluva beautiful stitch! Next up, tackling that mess of wiring that I have been putting off until the end. This machine (Ann) was born an electric, and an electric she should remain. Until next time...

Singer 99K Progress

A few weeks ago, this little Singer 99K followed me home. No one else thought she was worth saving, but I could see the 'diamond in the rough'.

 

When I see or find machines like this 99, in the sad condition it is in, I often wonder about its life story. No, I'm not crazy. Each of the machines I find has a story; certainly it was loved and cherished at one time in its life. I can picture the owner spending countless hours with the machine, working on children's clothes, repairing a hem, or making an extravagant dress for a special occasion. And being that this machine was made in 1950, I feel confident that its previous owner was a woman. So, while I work and tinker on a machine, I get lost in the nostalgia and then I become determined to re-animate as best as I can. (I choose the term 're-animate', because that is what I do - give it new life. I'm not a professional restorer or refurbish-er. I think these old machines should show some of their battle scars.)

And so begins my task of re-animating the Singer 99k. I began by taking pictures...lots of pictures. It doesn't matter how many diagrams and schematics you have, a picture truly is worth a thousand words. Photos give me a chance to have a 'before & after', and it lets me know exactly how a piece was sitting in place when it was removed. Diagrams may show you where a piece goes, but they don't always show you how it was positioned.

My initial photographs give the machine the appearance of being not only used, but neglected. Many of the parts that should be bright and shiny look very rusty...not a good sign for a smooth running machine.

Bobbin case and hook assembly

Needle bar & pressure bar assembly

 The bobbin case area appeared to be rusted solid, as did the needle bar area. But the machine would turn over, so hopefully it was only surface rust and not welded together rust. The whitish spot you see on the bobbin case photo is duct tape residue. Tape is bad; duct tape is HORRIBLE! I can only assume the previous owner used it to hold the bobbin cover in place. Those bobbin covers can be tricky to re-install once completely removed. In fact, this machine was missing that piece completely.  Reproduction parts are available, but I prefer an original part. Original parts cost a little more, especially if you have to bid for them. 

That duct tape will be a beast to remove, without damaging the finish underneath. I've removed masking tape and sticky labels before without issue. My initial tests with the duct tape removal have been unfruitful. But, let's get the guts working first before I even worry about the 99's paint finish.  I've also decided to save the wiring replacement until the end. Better to be certain the machine sews, before I waste my time with the motor/light/controller.

More updates to come!

Antique/Thrift Shopping (or How a Singer 99k followed me home)

A few Saturdays ago,  Michel, my sister Deana and I went spent the day together and set about antique shopping in some of the north Georgia towns. Deana had been asking me for weeks to go with her, just to spend time together and to help her find some Depression Glass. I was fortunate enough to inherit my mother's Depression Glass (who got if from her mother, her got it from her mother-in-law) and my sister wants to start a collection of her own. So, we set off in search of something yellow, her favorite color.

Our first stop was a veritable treasure trove of glass. You name it, they had it. We found lots of different yellow pieces in more patterns than I can remember. Deana found a few that she liked, but didn't purchase anything, as it was only our first stop and she couldn't commit to a favorite pattern. While we were at that shop, I found a few vintage sewing odds and ends that I thought were neat, but didn't purchase. On the drive to the next stop, a voice in the back of my head said to actively look for sewing paraphernalia. Sometimes I listen to that voice a little too much and passed on to Michel and Deana that I was looking for "Singer" branded items.

The second stop was a typical antiques store - lots of nice things, but at very high prices. We browsed around, with the usual 'just looking' response when asked if we needed help. I always feel bad just 'window shopping'; those store owners need to earn a living just as much as I do and every just browsing customer is a non-paying customer.  But, as we were about to leave, Deana spotted a little green box with 'Singer' on it. The box was full of attachments for a low-shank machine - perfect for my newly acquired Singer Featherweight! The price was less than I could find online and I scooped them up!

The next stop was the mountain city of Ellijay - a place with antique/thrift stores galore! Browsing around the first in a long line of stores, I gravitated towards a wood domed shaped object, knowing its significance as a case for vintage & antique sewing machines.

I opened it up and inside was a Singer 99 sewing machine. The machine was mostly intact, but missing the critical knee bar controller so there was no way to test the electric motor. The wires were in fair shape, and thinking about it, it would not have been safe to try it out; exposed wiring is not something you want to play with. For its condition and missing pieces, the asking price was a little high and I wasn't willing to take the gamble on how much work it would need, given that high asking price. I spent a good twenty  minutes or so pondering the purchase. How badly did I want it? Did I really need another machine? I lost count at eight machines, but what's one more? Right? Right? Well, rationality took over and I passed on this one. There would be others I was certain.

But I didn't leave empty handed. Deana found me this gem, for a decent price and it goes perfectly with my model 27 treadle from 1899 (machine number 3 in my growing collection).

Several more hours of store shopping yielded many interesting finds, but nothing that screamed 'take me home'. Probably not a bad thing for my wallet in the grand scheme of things. On our return trip home, we decided to stop at an recently opened antique/thrift shop near my sister's home. Deana said it was a re purposed Hobby Lobby, so I knew it would have lots and lots of treasures. There were neat things, but again, no 'screamers'. Although, I was certain I would scream personally if I had seen one more sewing machine treadle cabinet with those nice cast iron legs underneath a piece of glass for a decorator table! For me, you might as well take a Tiffany lamp and smash it against a wall. It hurts my soul to see the wonderful machines cast out as trash and destroyed. Oh the stories they could tell if only they could speak. How many hours of hard labor had each of them seen under the tender hands of their owners? Maybe that is the root of my hidden desire to restore every forsaken machine I come across. Those machines were designed to last a lifetime, many of them have done so with proper care and maintenance; some of them multiple lifetimes.

And so, at this last store of the day, this little forgotten treasure came home with me.

I wasn't going to purchase this machine; it is electric and needs a complete re-wire. That isn't beyond my skill level, but not something I had on my 'to do' list, as it were.  But through the use of modern technology (thank you Android and 4G!), we ran the serial number and according to Singer, this machine was allotted on January 5, 1950. Which in non-collector speak, means this machine was manufactured sometime between January 5 through July 27, 1950 (the next allotment for this model). Why is that important? Well, to a Singer Collector, there is no significance to that particular date; nothing unusual about the machine to make it extraordinarily collectible.  But to me, to me it has meaning. Mom was born in February 1950. This little machine and woman I treasured could very well share the same birthday. Though that I could, I know I can't bring Mom back. But, I could breathe new life into this little machine. Michel saw the gleam in my eye as we discussed the machine's 'birth date'. He knew what its significance meant to me.


Michel bought this little gem for me. Not only because it reminded me of Mom (though she never really sewed), but also because I think he gets a bit joy from watching my excitement as I bring one of these little babies back from the brink of death.  I've been busy working on her since we brought her home. Yes, this machine is a 'her', and her name is Ann. As I progress, I'll post photos so you can see Ann's rebirth. I can't wait to sew with her; perhaps Ann's first project will be a sundress for the grand-daughter her namesake never had a chance to meet.