models are then put in trays, which are carried to automatic packing stations. When the plant was being set up, Odell and Smith became worried that the many women who worked on the assembly line would have trouble lifting the heavy cartons of die-cast vehicles. Odell worked out a scheme for transporting the products in containers the size and shape of cookie tins, which seemed to hold the right weight for the women to lift. As a result, the whole Lesney conveyor belt system was built to accommodate cookie tins.
The assembled “Matchbox” cars and trucks are packed and sealed at the automatic packing station. Nimble-fingered employees picking up six vehicles at a time place them into larger cartons. At last, fully packed and enclosed, the models travel in batches to the storage area, where electronic equipment routes each package to a specific shipping point.
Lesney’s millions of elf-sized cars and buses seem to appeal equally to children and to automobile enthusiasts, a double market that is quite unusual in the toy business. Unlike the electric train, which has become more and more the province of the collector, miniature cars and related vehicles continue to capture the imagination of auto lovers of every age and interest.
While the quality, detailing, cuteness, and very low price of “Matchbox” toys contribute to their popularity among both children and adults, there is a major difference in the psychology of collecting in these two consumer groups.
Children from about the age of two up, according to Irwin Goodman, a vice president at Lesney, love “Matchbox” models. But they want a lot of them chiefly because they see a lot of vehicles on the streets and roads and highways. Kids tend to amass, rather than collect; they want to look at and play with as many little cars as they can get. When youngsters get older and a bit more sophisticated, they will expand the richness of play by putting “Matchbox” (and other) autos into fantasized situations: cars strung along a busy interchange, trucks loading and unloading at the supermarket, buses picking up figures of boys and girls for school. The awareness of detail and recognition of vehicle types comes later, according to the degree of interest the child finds in cars as machines and/or material possessions. When the youngster has reached this stage, he has crossed over into the province of the collector.
There are several “Matchbox” fan clubs in the country: one for kids, run by the company-, and others for hard-core collectors, independently operated. The latter groups hold conventions where old “Matchbox” cars are traded, auctioned, and sold, and also publish fan magazines which Les-ney’s staff often consults when trying to recall some early model it once produced.
“Matchbox” collectors, like hobbyists in any other field, know their product thoroughly. They can recite the axle size of every single model, or tell you the color of the original car the model was patterned after.
Thanks to enthusiasts of all ages, the Lesney factories turn out enough “Matchbox” toys every year to construct a line of miniature cars, bumper to bumper, from London to Melbourne, Australia.
Hugging the highway of success with its small, but extremely authentic tires, the “Matchbox” model keeps rolling along.
5 Lady Luck and the Traveling Salesman
Luck is just like lightning: it never strikes twice in the same place. Or so the gamblers say.
But in the case of Edwin S. Lowe, Dame Fortune forgot herself and smiled twice on his career. As a result, the ex-salesman discovered by pure serendipity the twentieth century’s two runaway best sellers among games of chance— Bingo and Yahtzee.
Lowe’s story is a colorful one, involving a carnival pitchman, a mad professor, miscellaneous priests and policemen, a pair of Bermuda socialites, and the malapropism of a girl on the verge of ecstasy.
In contrast to these bizarre elements, there is nothing at all