Posted By Les Conklin on Sep 17, 2015

Robert E. (“Bob”) Kolba stands in the midst of dozens of phonograph players and thousands of recordings from the early part of the last century. His collection is housed in a veritable museum that is an adjunct to his North Scottsdale home.

by Robert G. Rogers

Thomas Alva Edison, the inveterate tinkerer of a century ago, lives on in North Scottsdale.

And not just in spirit, alit by progeny of his first light bulbs. Rather, in an up-close and personal way.

That’s thanks to the lifelong curiosity – and acquisitiveness – of Pinnacle Peak-area resident Robert E. (“Bob”) Kolba.

Listen closely as you enter Bob’s expansive home on Woodley Way, just off Pima Road, and you can hear, speaking distinctly just around the corner, the wizard of Menlo Park himself.

At other times you may take in the harrumphing resonance of Teddy Roosevelt, belting out one of his famous barnstorming stump speeches.

Then there are Will Rogers, Charles Lindbergh, Franklin Roosevelt, even Benito Mussolini, and countless other notable people from early in the last century.

What you hear at the Kolba residence, of course, are recordings.

One of the favorite items of Bob Kolba in his collection of recording devices and records is a glass-fronted, coin-operated Regina Hexaphone jukebox, which played two-minute recorded cylinders. It came from a bar in Montana and is believed to be one of only three remaining in the world.

But these aren’t YouTube spoofs or mere recordings of recordings. They’re emanating from Edison’s and others’ earliest talking machines and from the talk-and-play waxed cylinders and other media on which the sounds were originally recorded.

Bob showcases his collection in a veritable museum that is in an adjunct to his home. He calls it his “hobby room.” It’s almost 500 square-feet in size and houses dozens of the original devices made to record and play sounds. They’re all dusted and neatly displayed from floor to ceiling.

The collection includes more than 3,000 record cylinders and an equal number of recordings on the earliest 78-, 45-, and 33-1/3-rpm discs. It includes Edison’s first 1897 cylinder phonograph with its characteristic trombone-like horn – which Bob bought at a “First Monday” swap meet in Canton, Texas – subsequent so-called gramophones, and every other kind of record player up to and including cassette, Betamax, VHS, and laser disc players.

Bob explains that the earliest recordings are particularly unique – and rare – because they had to be produced one at a time. In a recording session, for instance, singers would have to sing their songs over and over, for as many times as there was demand for their recorded cylinders. Later, he says, entertainers recorded in front of the horns of as many cylinder phonographs as could fit in such a way as to receive the sounds. Fortunately for the entertainers, the early discs could only accommodate two-minute recordings. It wasn’t until 1901 that reproductions could be made from master recordings.

Bob’s collection overflows this room and is showcased in “nooks and crannies” throughout his home.

Because of space limitations, Bob has disposed of, while not all, hundreds of early television sets and thousands of recorded early T.V. shows and movies.

Of particular fondness to Bob are his 180 original recordings on 78 rpm discs (many of which are one-sided) of the great operatic tenor Enrico Caruso.

Another favorite item of Bob’s is an original coin-operated Regina Hexaphone jukebox that has a curved glass front and plays two-minute “Pink Lamberts” – recorded cylinders. It came from a bar in Montana and is believed to be one of only three remaining in the world.

Bob grew up in the post-depression years across from elevated railway tracks and within an easy jog of Wrigley Field. He roamed freely throughout Chicago to take in movies, particularly musicals, and it is from this childhood experience that he developed his fascination with records and recording devices. The first item in his collection is a 1942 soundtrack of the original production of Oklahoma, which he found in a half-price book store.

“What’s particularly nice about my hobby,” Bob says, “is the interaction with other collectors from throughout the country and, indeed, the world.” He says that when one of his fellow collectors is missing a particular mechanical item or needs one fixed, other collectors are always at the ready to offer replacements or repairs.

Bob was involved in commercial real estate development for most of his career. He served as chairman of the Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport Athority for several years. In addition to collecting, Bob enjoys writing and has authored four mystery novels and a family memoir.

The website eBay, Bob explains, has revolutionized collecting. That, he says, is because of how much it has eliminated the need to spend hours walking up and down aisles at swap meets, flea markets, and antique fairs.

More than 80 percent of what Bob has collected is in working condition, and that most likely is due to his engineering bent. He graduated from the Illinois Institute of Technology, earned an MBA at the Harvard Business School, sports a CPA designation to boot, and spent the bulk of his career based in the Dallas-Fort Worth area as a developer of commercial real estate projects throughout the country. For several years he served as chairman of the DFW International Airport Authority. Bob has also managed to publish four mystery novels and a family memoir.

The value of his collection, Bob says, is incalculable. When pressed, he concedes it’s probably worth well into the hundreds of thousands of dollars. “I’m not in this for the money,” Bob insists,” “and I doubt, if I were, that I’d ever get out of it what I’ve invested – I do it for the love of it, as well as for the friendships I’ve developed and maintained over many years with other collectors.”

Bob’s collection spills prominently into other nooks and crannies throughout his home. This prompts a visitor to ask what role, if any, his wife Sharon has in his hobby. Bob grins a bit sheepishly, and says, “I am blessed to have an unusually patient and understanding wife.”

Robert G. Rogers is a resident of north Scottsdale and a new editorial contributor to The Peak.