I don't remember why they met at our New Bedford, MA, tenement, a $5 weekly cold water flat. Mom took home some $37 per week and Dad was disabled. There were no food stamps, no SSI.
While we couldn't afford one, the 3 prominent servants (they were called) gathered there to collect their order for a portable audio recorder for which they paid some $100 each. All Dad and I could do was lust for a machine that could magically store and play back keynote talks from circuit and district speakers. Each of the servants tried out his new toy as that reel-to-reel device (luggable at some 30 pounds, my estimate) stored and played back our voices with amazing clarity. They would never miss each glimmer of new light from the platform again. For several years, these monstrosities made their way into many kingdom halls of that day. Len Miller.