By SARAH THOMAS
CHARLESTON, SC – In 1971, a calculator weighed one pound and cost as much as a used piano. Digital watches were still the province of science fiction films and Bill Gates was just 16 years old.
But, in high schools from South Carolina to Nova Scotia, a more modest sigil of the future was being displayed to incredulous students. The Kenbak-1, which jostles for position on a very short list of devices claiming to be the world’s first personal computer, was making its quiet debut. Less than 2 years later, the machine would slip into obscurity.
Yet Robert R. Nielsen, the man who trained an army of salesmen to schlep the unassuming blue boxes to all those rural schools, never forgot the Kenbak-1. For Nielsen, a consultant with the company that bought the rights to market the machine, it began a lifelong fascination with computers that he has never stopped trying to instill in students.
“Programs of Fun and Interest”
Computers, naturally, weren't a new idea in 1971. Military installations and college campuses across the country had possessed computers for decades, and magazines like Scientific American routinely carried advertisements for the computer hobbyist market. One such ad appeared in 1971: "Modern electric technology created the Kenbak-1 with a price that even private individuals and small schools can afford...very quickly you, or your family or students, can write programs of fun and interest." The machine, which looked like a console component for the Starship Enterprise, claimed it was simple enough for first-time users to program. The cost? $750, or the price of a well-maintained used car.
"Normally I don't like to use the word 'first' when I'm talking about computers, because it's so misleading,"
Shortly after its invention by John Blankenbaker, Kenbak was sold to a company called CTI, who decided to market the machines to schools. Robert Nielsen, one of their sales consultants, sent the Kenbak all over North America, demonstrating to teachers and students who, in some cases, had never even heard of computers.
"I think the Kenbak's downfall was who it was trying to target," Bochannek says. "The idea that the average schoolchild in the 1970s was interested in computer programming wasn't really there yet. In order to keep the price down, they sacrificed memory and expandibility, which made it of limited interest to the hobbyists. There was no one to buy the Kenbak."
In total, about 40 Kenbak-1s were made over a two year period, before being discontinued in the late 1970s. Of those original 40 machines, only 14 are still known to exist, and of the 14, only 8 are stamped with the CTI logo.
A Lifelong Love Affair
But at least one man never stopped believing in the Kenbak. That was Robert Nielsen, the salesman who had driven to all those schools. Never a computing devotee, Nielsen bacame the machine's biggest cheerleader. He purchased and programmed many of the 40 extant machines himself, eventually being recognized as the US Air Force's top programmer.
"In my opinion, high school teachers lacked the professional knowledge needed to teach the Kenbak-1," Nielsen says. "I was adamant that they should try to market their exceptional product in courses beyond the high school level." This was a time when college students around the country were fighting for time on computers the size of houses and with a higher price tag. Nielsen believed that if the Kenbak-1 had been marketed towards career-minded college students rather than high schoolers who didn't see a tangible benefit in learning such a complicated skill, it would have taken off.
Had Nielsen's advice been taken, perhaps the remarkable history of personal computing would have been very different.
But, thanks to Nielsen's tireless efforts, the effect of the Kenbak-1 has still been felt in computer world. He eventually founded the Nielsen Electronic Institute in Charleston, South Carolina, where students learned basic computer programming on the Kenbak-1. That school has since been sold, all but one of its Kenbaks either lost or in the hands of private collectors and museums.
Nielsen kept only one Kenbak-1 for himself, and it is that which he is reluctantly putting up for sale - only the 14th Kenbak-1 known to exist.
"This is a truly remarkable artifact, which has huge historical significance,"
No dollar amount, however, can sum up the impact the idea of personal computing would eventually have on the world - or the value this little blue machine has today to Robert Nielsen.
"The only way I can protect the last Kenbak-1 in my possession is sell it for a substantial price," he says. "The Kenbak-1 should play a role in history just as all other technological inventions have. It must be protected!"
