This information provided via the courtesy of Vintage Slots of Colorado, Inc.

If you have an antique coin machine and want to sell it, please send me an email. If I am not interested in it, I will forward your email to a collector who probably is.


The following information is the web version of Coin Op on CD which was a book all about antique coin machines and it was distributed on a CD-ROM. This book was written in 1995 and sold in 1996. Please take this into consideration when reading the articles. There are no plans to come out with version 2. However, we do plan on periodically updating the information on the web version.
The CD version of the book has pricing information as well as a dealer directory. Since the prices are out of date and many of the dealers/collectors may no longer be collecting the machine we have purposely left this information out of the web version. However, we do keep in contact with many dealers and collectors who are actively buying and selling machines and would be happy to put you in touch with one if you have a machine you are looking to sell.

If you are looking to purchase an antique coin machine you may also send me an email and I will put you in touch with a reputable dealer. Odds are, I will not be selling the machine you are looking for (since I rarely sell any machines).


How Could O. D. Jennings Be Forgotten?
By Dick Bueschel

In memory of:
Ode D. Jennings, September 6, 1874-November 21, 1953, age 79. Industrialist, philanthropist, benefactor, village booster and the forgotten man in local history. It is a shame that his memory isn't honored, much less revered, by the community and hospitals he helped.

If you're into history and the origins of things you'll appreciate how two researchers could unknowingly tackle the same subject at the same time from different angles, and somehow come together at precisely the right time to make the story a cohesive one. That's what happened with this unearthing of the maligned memory of O. D. Jennings, the second largest producer of slot machines at the height of the business in the 20s and 30s, and even into the 50s. I approached it from an area of anguish, and my good friend Herb Weinfield, DDS, a dentist practicing in Des Plaines, Illinois (the next Chicago area northwest suburban town to me, I live one more farther out, in Mt. Prospect) and living in Northbrook, came at it from an angle of curiosity. It took the two of us to put it all together.
My approach started in the summer of 1991. I knew that Jennings, whose O. D. Jennings & Company and its predecessors was located in Chicago from 1907 until the 1970s, surviving for two decades or more after his death, had lived somewhere in the northwest suburbs of Chicago. Old Illinois state directories from the 30s and 40s suggested it was in an open farm area called Roselle. Being interested in the man and his products, I tried to track down his reportedly large dairy and horse farm to see what was left, if anything. I did know that the property had been given to the local community after the death of Jennings and his wife. But what community? There is a town in that area now called Roselle, but a check of the library and the historical group there revealed no connection to Jennings. So I about gave up on that search.
Then a Wednesday, August 21, 1991 story by Jackie Dulen, a staff writer of the Daily Herald, an outstanding network of community newspapers serving the upscale northwest suburbs of Chicago, caught my eye. The headline was "Old-gangster hangout to get face-lift," and above the head was the picture of a typical 20s house sitting on a small knoll above a park. The story went on to say that "In 1925, reputed gangster O. D. Jennings moved in to the house at 220 Civic Drive in Schaumburg," adding it was "Not exactly the kind of house one might expect to swell the chests of founding fathers with civic pride." All of this came out of interviews with leading citizens of the village of Schaumburg, Illinois, based on the common accepted understanding of the origins of the house and its environs.
O. D. Jennings? How could they get that so wrong? It was a terrible way to talk about the man that gave the community his heart and soul, and whose widow gave the village of Schaumburg, Illinois, the most important thing in his life. Even the name Civic Drive, and the beautiful surrounding park, suggested far more benign origins.
Ode D. Jennings wasn't a gangster. Far from it. He was a patrician American industrialist dedicated to hard work and unexcelled quality in value added production. He also believed in the ability of salesmanship to solve difficult problems. These are exactly the critical manufacturing and marketing goals that made the United States strong and powerful as the leading industrialized nation in the world. And like a good manager Jennings took pride in his plant, his product and his people. He also had an enormous pride of place. And that place was his farm. He raised dairy cows, and riding horses, and invited guests from all over the world to share his bounty in the three decades between 1925 and 1953, when he died. In that house! At that time the address was on Schaumburg Road, and the community was loosely called Roselle.
O. D. Jennings came from Kentucky, in horse country, and got involved with coin machines early in his career to get away from the bottom land farm. He gained stature and recognition in his chosen field when he was the manager of THE SPECTATORIUM, an enormous Penny Arcade operated by the Chicago-based Mills Novelty Company at the St. Louis World's Fair in 1904. By 1907, Jennings had moved to Chicago and started a company called The Industry Novelty Company, dealing in used slot machines, vending machines and scales. By 1911 he was making his own, and by 1921 he had changed his company name to O. D. Jennings & Company. By 1941 his factory, at 4309 West Lake Street (the building is still there!) was the second largest in the coin machine industry, and technologically highly advanced. As a result of this capability, soon after Pearl Harbor O. D. Jennings & Company was selected for war work, first making aircraft assemblies, and later working on highly secret radar equipment. The Jennings plant got one of the coveted Army-Navy "E" (for production excellence) awards on December 14, 1944. Secretary of War Robert Patterson made the presentation. 70 years old at the time, Jennings gave a brief speech, saying "Americans will win this war because Americans are able to overcome obstacles."
His was the American dream. And like many before him who benefited from the nation he loved, he became a benefactor to help others. One of his most cherished contributions was the farm and its lands. What had happened was that the farmland that I was looking for had been completely swept away by the village of Schaumburg, in the 80s the fastest growing western suburb of Chicago, and the Jennings house, barn and immediate grounds had become an inner suburban park surrounded by ranch houses.
At just about the same time, in the fall of 1991, in one of those strange synergistic sequences that so often happen, Herb Weinfield was taking some extension courses in his field, and went to downtown Chicago where the classes were being held in the Ode D. Jennings Pavilion of the Northwest Memorial Hospital. Herb, who displays antique slot machines in his dentist's office (his patients love it, it gives them something to look at while he's drilling away) went in an out of the building two or three times and then one day said to himself, "Okay, just how many Ode D. Jennings' can there be?" His curiosity got the best of him, so he contacted the hospital administrators and tracked down the records. What he discovered was yet another equally forgotten donation. O. D. left everything to his wife Jeannette in his will, with the stipulation that various sums would be distributed to his church and area hospitals upon her death. When she died the major receiver of this largess was Northwestern Memorial Hospital in downtown Chicago. Known at the time as the Passavant Memorial Hospital, in November of 1963 it accepted a grant of $500,000 from a trust created under the will of Ode D. Jennings, administered by the Continental Illinois Bank and Trust Company of Chicago, with the stipulation that a much needed new West Pavilion would be named the "Jennings Pavilion." Ground was broken for the 13-story "Jennings Pavilion" on July 14, 1964. Edison Dick, chairman of the Passavant board of directors, quoted in the Passavant Profile of Summer 1964, "said that the building is a memorial to a successful Chicago businessman, Ode. D. Jennings, who left his estate for the betterment of mankind." The Jennings gift of $500,000 was "the largest individual gift toward the new $3.5 million addition," also helped by a $100,000 grant by the Robert McCormick Charitable Trust. The new building "would give urgently needed laboratory and research space and increase the patient capacity from its present 347 beds to 390." The building opened in
But that was years ago. In subsequent alterations of the building, and redecorating to keep the facility up to date, the portrait was taken down. Nobody seems to know how long ago. In fact, when a search was made some years ago for "the picture of the man that the building is named after" it couldn't be found. And hasn't been discovered since. If you were to ask somebody in the facility today who Ode D. Jennings was, they wouldn't know. The only mention in the official history of the hospital is a sentence on page 164, Chapter 20, entitled "In Step With The Center," that says, "It was announced that the 13-story building would be named the Ode D. Jennings Pavilion in honor of the man who had left his wealth for the betterment of mankind."
It would all have ended there except for the fact that Herb came over to the house one day to talk about slot machines a year or so ago, and I told him about my "Gangster House." He said, "Funny you should mention," and told me about the pavilion. The result was our collaboration on this story and our attempt to reinstill the feeling and appreciation the benefactors of the Jennings bounty should feel and express.
O. D. and his wife Jeannette Isle Jennings should have had children. They might have protected the family name and reminded all of us of their good works. But, sadly, they didn't have any. As a result their fading image was at the mercy of those who never knew about the man and his works. It's up to us to redress this imbalance and foster the positive sides of their memory. And Schaumburg, you've got some work to do. At least Northwestern Memorial Hospital has his name chiseled in stone. They might even have a portrait in oil if they could only find it.

The "Jennings House" and its surrounding park lands was given to the village of Schaumburg, Illinois, in 1963 by the will of Mr. & Mrs. Ode D. Jennings and served as the village hall until a new one was built for the community in 1971. It was dedicated as a village landmark in 1978, but no plaque or remembrance is visible in the area. It is currently used as a shelter for abused teenage girls. The Jennings barn was used as police headquarters.

The Ode D. Jennings Pavilion located at 707 Fairbanks Court on the narrow east side of Chicago is a modern medical facility as part of the Northwestern Memorial Hospital complex. Move-in to the structure was completed in June 1966. Groundbreaking was in 1964 after funds were contributed by a trust set up by Ode D. Jennings. You can just make out the name carved in stone above the doors set back from the street.



Q. - Could you please give me any information on these two coin operated machines. I haven't found anything to match these, there are so many kinds of descriptions. I was curious about the year, the product, the value and anything else available. T. S., Worthington, IN
A. - You have two very nice collectible globe vending machines for which, as you have discovered, there is very little information in print. The shorter one with the porcelain green base is a Model 21 peanut machine made by the Columbus Vending Company of Columbus, Ohio, starting around 1932 with production until 1941. Its #3 Octagonal Globe, as it was called, is unique to this machine and only two others. It is retail valued at $250, or half that for wholesale if you're selling to a dealer. They also made a model with a lamp on top, using the vender as the base. It's worth more.
The taller black base machine also has a unique glass dome with multiple facets, or flat surfaces, much like a carved diamond. It is the MAGNA VENDER created by Willard F. Main of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, in 1934, and produced by the National Manufacturing Company. Its retail value is $275, or about $140 wholesale.

Q. - Enclosed find photo of my Keeney TWIN BONUS SUPER BELL and Bally DRAW BELL console slot machines. Are consoles in demand with collectors? I am interested in selling these machines and am interested in their wholesale as well as retail value. Thanks for providing us with a most enjoyable, insightful column. M. G., Des Plaines, IL B & B Antiques, Greenville, OH.
A. - Thanks for the photo of your two consoles. They are machines in the problem/opportunity area. You know; there are no problems, only opportunities. Which means that consoles aren't particularly desirable as they are (a) big, (b) touchy, and (c) often need work. The real question is, do your machines work? Well? And how is the glass, the most critical factor in their value? Broken glass, no value whatsoever. If the glass is okay to good, they are salable.
I just finished a price guide for a book by Schiffer Publishing for release next summer, and priced the Keeney TWO-WAY BONUS SUPER BELL at $650 and the Bally DRAW BELL at $400 in shopped retail condition, with wholesale prices at half that, or $325 and $200. If you want me to pass the word at those figures, I'll be glad to.
And thanks for telling me how and why you enjoy my column in Antique Week. It helps me gauge what to do next.

(c) Richard M. Bueschel, 1995