Ron Davis: Always on the Go (more photos)

We welcome Trish O'Leary Treat to Patch. Trish offers profiles of local residents in a  wonderful, compelling writing style.

Ron Davis, the friendly, energetic owner of Davis Gallery on the Boston Post Road, was born in Bensenville, Illinois in the 1930’s. He says he is old enough to remember rationing and food stamps as well as the times when his father, a volunteer air raid warden, would help enact a simulated air raid in which people practiced being evacuated to a shelter. The Buick assembly plant where Ron’s father worked converted to the war effort by switching from building cars to building LST’s, floating pontoon bridges that could help move soldiers and supplies across large bodies of water.

Never known for staying still, in 1942, the Davis family packed everything into, on top of and behind their 1939 sedan and headed to Southern California. Later, when Ron was only 14, he was eager to head north to fight fires, as his 16-year old neighbor had done. He brought it up so often that he finally talked his parents into allowing it. He says his father Hank gave him $20, told him to phone home when he could, and drove him to a nearby highway where he could hitchhike. By the time he finally made it to Northern California, he had sometimes driven the cars he got rides in, and many a night between rides he would find himself a “used car lot,” climb into the backseat of an unlocked car, and make it his bed for the night.

Early jobs

Ron arrived in Northern California too late to join the firefighters. Instead, he hooked up with migrant workers who harvested pears at a day rate of $4.00.   Ron thought the wages sounded fine and became the driver of the rickety flatbed truck in which workers traveled. On weekends, they would head for a beer in town. He would then often drive not on highways but on narrow, dusty roads, and even in an occasional irrigation ditch.

Ron’s next adventure that summer was becoming a member of a crew headed for Oregon to haul hay, for which each crew member would get $50. With three others, he set out—only $50 among them, and part of that was needed for gas. Their provisions consisted of KoolAid and candy. They decided if they were still hungry when they arrived, they would hunt for their food. One experience with a deer Ron helped shoot and drag was distasteful enough so that after that, they agreed to go after rabbits instead. When the crew began loading the heavy hay bales (twelve feet high and twelve feet wide) Ron discovered at 140 lbs. that he literally could not do the “heavy lifting.”  Instead, he again became the designated truck driver.

Not long after he arrived back home in California for his sister’s wedding, his mother made him re-enroll in high school, never his favorite activity. The only thing he liked about his years there, he says, was taking “shop courses.” He became friendly with the print shop teacher, Mr. Phippin, and by the time he had finished, he had taken “shop” four times and was proficient at fixing equipment as well as at typesetting.

Getting hitched

Around 1951, on Easter vacation, Ron and his then-girlfriend Beverly drove along “Tin Can Beach” (now known as Huntington Beach) in a 1938 coupe. The engine blew, and easy-going Beverly suggested they forget the car and give themselves a little fun by hitchhiking across the border to Tijuana. They had a grand time, but getting back into the U.S. looking under age and without proper papers proved to be difficult. They finally made it, thanks to a couple on the way back home after a few too many margaritas.

Hitchhiking on Route 8 and headed for Texas, Ron and Beverly decided to stop in Calexico Ca., to look for a friend that Ron thought lived there. When they didn’t find him, they quickly devised a new plan: they would get jobs and stay there.  The local newspaper hired Ron, and Beverly got a job as a waitress. Meanwhile, both sets of parents back home were worried that their children had disappeared, and sent a friend out looking.

Once they were found, their parents took them to Yuma, Arizona, where the legal age for marrying was younger than in California, and made sure Ron and Beverly were officially married. Soon after the young couple returned to Calexico a few weeks later, the seven-year locusts arrived, devouring whatever was in their path and crunching underfoot, inside and outside of houses. It was enough to send the couple back home to South Pasadena, no persuasion needed.

Hard work

Mr. Phippin helped Ron get a job with Economy Blueprint, a blueprint supply company, and Ron started his business career in their stock room.  Nearby, he could see huge machines making blueprint paper.  The man in charge of the chemistry laboratory there had come to the U.S. from Germany after WWII: Dr. Karl Dieterle. Dieterle took a liking to Ron and volunteered to teach him the chemistry and physics he had not stayed in high school long enough to learn.

The Korean War had begun by this time, and Ron was soon working 16 hours a day, seven days a week, and at the same time being tutored by Dieterle. A demanding instructor, Dieterle had Ph.D.’s in chemistry, physics and optics, Ron says. He learned everything from him that he could—except for calculus and trigonometry, which he notes he still can’t grasp. But physics he did – and loved it.

Putting his newfound knowledge to work, Ron managed to build a new paper-coating machine  – one that dried coated paper electrically instead of by forced air. By 1953, he felt ready to move on and took a job with a company that had a gigantic coating machine whose rollers could turn out paper so fast, Ron says, it looked as if it was flying through the air. In that same year, Ron and Beverly had their first child, Norma Renee. Two years later, their first son, Daniel Roy was born.

Microfilm

In a business downturn, Ron returned to working for Dr. Dieterle. When his mentor died, Ron inherited his chemical formulas. By this time, Ron had had enough of daily commuting and went to work for a small company closer to home. That company had been unrolling sheets they needed and cutting them with scissors, a laborious operation.  Ron offered to build a “sheeter” that would automate the operation and make it more economical and efficient. When the owner went broke, Ron took a blueprinting machine in payment and started Royal Blueprint, a shop in El Monte, CA. After a few years, Ron became graphics department manager at “Aeroscience,” a customer’s firm. When that firm closed, Ron found a blueprint shop that was microfilming documents, but the resulting copies of microfilm they produced were of poor quality.

Ron figured the problem could be overcome if they made Diazo film copies instead of using silver nitrate, as they had before. Using Dr. Dieterle’s formulas, he made up some Diazo film. When he exposed the microfilm to the Diazo film under glass and developed it with ammonia, it provided great quality. As the next processing step, he knew that for proper exposure, there had to be light of sufficient strength that came straight down, but he did not know how to calculate the lenses.

Always willing to try to do or to make something new, he bought quartz lenses and set them up so ultraviolet light could go through the quartz, which would focus it. He also fit film around a special drum, a process that led to Ron’s becoming eligible for his first patent, US Pat. 31600086. Not long after, Ron realized that if sixteen millimeter motion picture film were used, he could make a beautiful copy of black and white film with sound.

Disney connection

Ron had a friend who piloted a Cessna 150 and welcomed his company. His friend flew his plane low enough so that Ron could take photos of sailboats in the Newport harbor below, identify who owned them, and sell pictures to these boat owners. Since they were flying over the future site for Disneyland each time, he also snapped photos during its construction.

One day, Ron printed 16 of these photos and took them to Disney’s local office. When a passing executive saw Ron’s photos, he showed the pictures to two others, and soon he was taken to meet Walt Disney himself. Ron was told that Disney enjoyed helping ambitious young entrepreneurs, and wanted to see all of his pictures. After he did, he hired Ron to take photos of particular theme park locations, like the Matterhorn, Treasure Island and the Paddle Boat, in various stages of construction.

 A few years later, when Ron and Beverly’s second son, John Michael was born, a Disney engineer made arrangements for Ron to meet with him and two executives from Bell & Howell at a Burbank sound studio. Both the Disney engineer and the men from Bell & Howell appeared interested in both Ron’s film and his machine, but months passed with no word.

Finally, a Santa Ana attorney, W. Mike McCray, phoned Ron to come to his office. When he did, McCray told him the Disney people were interested in his film and his machine. They wanted to replicate their “dailies,” (daily shots of ongoing television and film productions) but now they wanted color, not monochrome. McCray said the company would help Ron incorporate, apply for a patent and provide him with cash and a workspace, all expenses paid, for a year.

McCray decided he too would buy stock in Ron’s company, “MicroDupe, Inc.”  Ron could now afford to hire engineers to help him. A company then in Bethesda, Md., Doc. Inc., heard about Ron’s ability to duplicate microfilm and microfiche. They invited him to come to Maryland to see their project.  Taken to an Airforce base in Alexandria,  he saw hundreds of cabinets filled with large (30 x 42) drawing files. In the cabinet drawers were reels upon reels of 35-millimeter microfilm.

The man giving Ron the tour asked whether he had ever received a security clearance before, which he had not—but he soon did. He was then shown a technology lab and in it, microfilm that looked, under a microscope, as if it had “measles.” These would further deteriorate the film. Ron was familiar with the “measles” problem and said using his Diazo duplicating process, he could save them from further deterioration.

NASA

Next, Ron was introduced to the director of NASA documentation, Mel Day, who invited him to move with his family to the D.C. area because they needed his abilities and wanted Ron to build more replicators. They offered him a million dollar contract for film and equipment and moved him to Kensington Maryland within a week of his initial visit. The house NASA provided him with was not far from the workspace they gave to Ron to build the other machines. In addition, they gave him access to a machine shop and to skilled tool-and-die makers who would produce whatever equipment Ron needed. The machines were built, delivered to Doc Inc., and ultimately made millions of copies of microfiche that would otherwise have deteriorated. Ron’s firm was awarded two lucrative contracts as a result.

One day Ron exhibited materials from his roll microfilm duplicator at a Philadelphia trade show. At his exhibit booth, he told buyers that he could duplicate microfilm at high speed with clarity of 500-line resolution per millimeter compared to others’ best at 200-line resolution. One man he demonstrated this to was Dr. Peter Goldmark, the inventor of color television and long-playing (LP) records. He was also the president of  CBS Labs in  Stamford, CT. He held dozens of patents on his inventions and was initially skeptical about Ron’s claim, but the next thing Ron knew, he and McCray were selling the  MicroDupe operation to CBS with the stipulation that Ron be hired and allowed to continue his duplicator line via CBS.

By the early 1960’s, Ron was under contract at the CBS Laboratory Division in Stamford, CT. He was told another scientist there could write on films at 450 lines per millimeter but they could not replicate from them. They asked if Ron could build a machine able to do that. In their own attempts, Goldmark’s team admitted, they had not gotten enough focused ultraviolet light to allow a good exposure, nor could they transport the film without slippage. 

Ron demonstrated to Dr. Goldmark how his “Dynamic Capstan” transported films and how he employed quartz optics to achieve such ultraviolet focus. He used a “fishbowl” technique to design the lenses. By trial and error, he kept changing lenses until he had the exposure needed. Goldmark commented that Ron showed the ingenuity of another Edison. Overall, though, Goldmark and Ron were uncomfortable with one another. Years later, when Goldmark transferred him to another locale, Ron resigned.

Cannondale

One of Ron’s friends from microfilm days, “Mac” McGregor, introduced Ron to a friend and financier, Joe Montgomery, another young man with dreams. Ron and Joe hit it off well, and the trio started a company located in a small equipment building just across the tracks from the quaint Cannondale Railroad Station. Ultimately, the company became “Cannondale Corporation.” Initially, Montgomery financed Ron’s work on an alternative fuel engine and a specialized air-conditioning system. Both projects had questionable futures, so they instead turned in a new direction.

Ron called on Jim Catrambone, a CBS financial executive who was well versed in market research. Catrambone joined the team and recommended they explore products in the recreation field, primarily in bicycling, which was then a  “hot” item in personal recreation.  Montgomery observed that a small, lightweight trailer for bicycles was needed, and Ron went to work designing one. The resulting product was a small, light trailer known as the “Bugger.” With its special patented “flexure” hitch, it could be attached to a bicycle and relieve the biker from having to wear a backpack or use panniers. It was wildly successful, and nearly a half-million were sold. The resulting patent, number 3829125, was issued in 1974.

Ron and the company went on to create 40 other bike accessories before being forced to scale back around 1977. Cannondale was entering its mountain bike stage just as Ron was about to leave after a dispute over finances. He says his only contribution to the now famous Cannondale bicycles was his recommendation to Montgomery that large diameter thin-walled aluminum tubes be used to provide the strength required for mountain. Cannondale’s sturdy central tube revolutionized bicycle design and identified the company as the number one mountain bicycle manufacturer. That bicycle soon became known as the “Champion.” (One of its spokesmen was Lance Armstrong).

 After Ron, an avid sailor, left Cannondale, he designed boats. He and Beverly divorced, and the next few years after that, he was constantly traveling as a consultant, helping companies that needed a good “production man” to streamline their procedures. One such company sent him to their plant in a small Tennessee town. In waiting for one of his many flights south at that time, Ron says, he met an attractive young woman, Julie (now Mrs. Davis) at LaGuardia Airport when both had their flight cancelled. They talked a long time. He says he knew from the start they would make a good team. (Today they have been married more than 30 years and are the parents of three daughters, Jennifer Marie, Christina Marion and Lauren Renee in addition to Ron’s three children from his earlier marriage to Beverly).

DVDs

Around 1981, Ron won a VCR at a raffle. A year later, after watching people in Stamford eager to rent movies jam video stores there, he started his own video rental business, “Video Box Office,” and built an inventory of more than 35,000 movie videos. Today, his VideoLab, at 200 Boston Post Road, is an offshoot of that video rental business. Ron’s VideoLab does videography for recitals, plays and other activities. It also transfers 8 mm home movies to DVD and makes cd’s and dvd’s from slides or photos. It also makes dvd’s from old VHS and Beta videos, and it can convert foreign videos. Ron and his loyal assistant of 21 years, Rechelle Radcliffe, supervise and produce all the work, which is often done on a  quick turnaround, without ever leaving the premises.

Besides his work at VideoLab, Ron is the Coordinator for OGAT (Orange Government Access Television), which was started in 1998 and is funded by Orange citizens.  The primary goal of OGAT is “to make local government more accessible and understandable to the residents of Orange.” He has served the OGAT committee for 11 years, first under Chair Mitchell Goldblatt, currently under Chair Sol Silverstein. 

Ron is also the current chair of the Area 2 Cable Advisory Council, helping bring community access television to neighboring towns. As Coordinator, it is Ron who digitally records many town government meetings as well as town special events so they can be shown on Cablevision of Southern Connecticut Channel 79. Since 2008,versions can also be seen on the Internet at video.google.com/Orange. Ron says OGAT is eager to work with community residents who would like to help record and edit broadcasts.

Ron and Julie live on Indian Lake in Orange and currently enjoy six grandchildren from Ron’s first marriage, in addition to their first great-grandchild. He notes wryly: “my work in image transfer has continued; it’s the medium that keeps changing and no doubt will change again.” The media may keep changing, but this man always seems to keep up.

                            — Trish O’Leary Treat, special to Orange Patch