Six String

dirt and citrus. He did take a few piano lessons as he grew up, and even tried to play the saxophone, but all that was soon left behind once Leo discovered his true passion electronics. When he was fourteen years old, Leo's uncle brought him to his auto shop. While the engines and complicated mechanics fascinated Leo, the thing that truly caught his attention was his uncle's hobby project, a radio made out of spare parts. The second he saw Leo

was hooked. That's why the saxophone and piano lessons had never stuck. He didn't want to create sound. He wanted to broadcast it. As Leo the kid grew into Leo the young man, his passion for machines grew with him. He found jobs around Orange County as a delivery man and then as an accountant, but he always carved out time to tinker with his radios. When the Great Depression put him out of work as a bookkeeper, Leo decided

to finally follow his dreams. He borrowed six hundred dollars and in nineteen thirty eight opened his very first radio repair shop. Leo quickly found his calling as an inventor and technician. Soon musicians from miles around were coming to his fuller tin repair shop for public address systems and electronic amphlifi. With so many musicians around, Leo began experimenting with not just making tools to broadcast music, but instruments

to make music itself. In the early nineteen forties, Leo began trading ideas with his client, Clayton or Kaufman, who went by the name Doc. Doc was a country musician who played an instrument called a lap steel guitar. These originated in Hawaii, of all places, When a player laid an acoustic guitar flat on his lap and used a steel slide to smoothly shift between pitches. The pair soon developed an electric version of the instrument, which immediately became

a favorite among country musicians. So for the next few years, Leo made his money churning out amps and these new electric lap steel guitars. Leo was also an introverted inventor who was happiest when he was at his workbench. He was constantly changing and improving his creations, looking for the little additions that would make them work harder, be more efficient,

and most importantly, sound better. His coworkers joked that if he had one hundred dollars to make something, he would spend ninety nine dollars making it work and one dollar for it to look pretty. By nineteen fifty, Doc had left the company and Leo was looking for a new way to expand. Lap steel guitars were great, but the market was limited. However, there was a new instrument that

seemed to be growing in popularity. You see, around this time, big bands, which had dominated dance halls for more than a decade, were falling out of favor. Venues were hiring smaller outfits which played rhythm and blues or honky tonk country music. Many of these bands started using electric guitars, which were loud enough to cut through a crowded roadhouse. Often they were hollow acoustic guitars with electric pickups that enabled them to be played through amplifiers, but these were uncommon,

expensive and not easy to maintain on the road. Leo saw his inn and in nineteen fifty one he introduced his new invention, a mass produced, solid bodied electric guitar. The guitar was loud and durable, with a bright, clean sound. It had interchangeable parts, too, which meant that if you broke the neck on the road, you could just swap it out. It was easy to tune and wouldn't produce feedback when plugged into an amp, and most importantly, it

was cheap. The low cost of Leo's guitars fueled a boom in electric guitar music that completely changed the face of pop culture. Jazz, rhythm and blues, and motown fused into a brand new sound called rock and roll, and Leo's instruments were rights at the forefront. From Eric Clapton and Jimmy Page to Muddy Waters and BB King. Leo's guitars were the favorites of rock Royalty. They even found their way into the hands of both the Beatles and

the Rolling Stones. Sometimes our careers take us place as we never intended. Ongoing radio enthusiast Leo Fender never expected to end up in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but he changed the face of music forever in nineteen fifty one when his Fender Telecaster leapt onto the scene. Not bad for a guy who didn't play guitar. It's been said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What we find attractive in our mate differs from person

to person. It could be the shape of their nose, or how big their ears are, or something not physical at all, like their sense of humor. But for hundreds of years, Europeans grew obsessed with the looks of the noble elite, but not because they found them attractive. Actually, it was quite the opposite. It started back in the sixteen hundreds when words spread of a young woman named Tannakin Skinker. And I know she sounds like a Star Wars character, but her story is one of tragedy and horror.

According to seventeenth century writings, Miss Skinker's mother had not been kind to the less fortunate. After a beggar woman approached her for help, the woman sent her away. Well, as it turned out that was no ordinary beggar she had dealt with. It was a witch disguise who took her revenge out on the woman's poor unborn daughter. The witch said, and this is a modern paraphrase, as the mother is hoggish, so too shall be her unborn child.

And with that Miss Skinker's fate was sealed. She was born with the face of a pig and could not speak, only grunt. She also ate out of a silver trough Sadly, her piggish demeanor was off putting two potential suitors. It didn't matter how much money her family had or how

nice her clothes were, no man would approach her. But before you think of it as a unique and isolated story, the tale of Tannakin Skinker is actually similar to a few other tales of rich young European women, such as the story of Miss Jacob's Daughter, also from the sixteenth century. The details there are much the same as in Tannikin's ordeal. A pregnant Dutch woman rejects a beggar at the door, only to have her unborn daughter cursed with a pig

face once she was born. There was also an occurrence involving a London woman in eighteen fifteen. Her carriage was overtaken by curious onlookers hoping to catch a glimpse of the swinelike features she was reported to possess. Her story found its way into various papers and publications, further spreading the mythology of the pig faced woman far and wide. In fact, it was the newspapers that pushed the narrative of the London woman with a pig face over the

course of several articles. One reader even wrote into The Times asking for a job as an assistant to a lady who was heavily afflicted in the face. Another offered to marry the pig faced woman. But had these individuals really been cursed with faces like pigs or was there something else going on? Well, there's no medical proof that any of these women actually existed, but we do have stories, songs, articles,

and other works alleging that they did. London's printing industry in the nineteenth century published everything from penny dreadfuls to urban legends about people and places that may or may not have been real anything to sell a paper have been away to knock the wealthy down a peg or two. After all, they had all that money and they didn't share it with the less fortunates, making them ugly on the inside. So maybe the poor started spreading rumors about

how they were ugly on the outside too. But there was something else at play here, specifically, how people from all walks of life were fascinated by birth defects. For a long time, children born with physical deformities or genetic mutations were often seen as novelties or as sideshow exhibits. It was believed that their parents had angered God or done something horrible for them to be born this way.

Of course, rarely were the targets of these stories men Men were almost never depicted as animalistic in appearance, so there was a healthy dose of sexism at work as well. After all, if a woman, especially a pregnant woman, became sick or displeased the church, or stepped out of line in any way, then she and her unborn child would be punished. Thankfully, London's fascination with the pig faced woman died out months after the first stories had been published.

But the idea did rear its ugly head again, as actual circus side shows advertise their own versions of the character. In reality, they usually shaped a bear and put it in address, hoping that that would convince attendees. One thing, however, is true. The pig faced Woman's existence, whether real or imagined, showed us all who the real monsters were. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about

the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Mankey in partnership with how Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show, and you can learn all about it over at the Worldolore dot com. And until next time, stay curious.