Metal Detectors
Rum
Tiffany Reproductions
Aircraft Engines

Today on "how it's made"...

Metal detectors...

Rum...

Tiffany reproductions...

And aircraft engines.

Airports use handheld metal detectors to safeguard flights.

Treasure hunters use hobby metal detectors to find buried loot.

Vastly different purposes.

Yet the technology behind them is identical-- a principle called magnetic induction.

It all hinges on tiny electrical currents creating magnetic fields.

A tiny electrical current runs through a wire coil inside the detector, creating a magnetic field.

When the detector passes over a metal object, the field is disturbed, producing a small voltage variation that triggers the alarm.

To make the coil, they use copper wire that's coated with nylon insulation.

They wind it around the two ends of a plastic bobbin a specific number of times.

Polyester tape keeps it from unraveling.

Security metal detectors need pure iron glued into the bobbin to increase the magnetic-field strength the coil produces.

Without it, the coil would have to be several times larger and wouldn't fit inside a handheld wand.

The next step is to solder the coil leads to a circuit board, then solder a vibrator motor to enable the detector to vibrate as well as beep when it finds metal.

The board contains a microprocessor, the detector's alarm, and other components that react to the signals coming from the coil.

The coil and circuit board now go into the wand's plastic housing.

A retaining clip holds the vibrator motor in place.

They temporarily hook up power to the battery compartment and push a button on the circuit board.

This calibrates the board to the coil.

They install a sliding cap on the detector's on-off switch.

Now they can close her up and stick on the manufacturer's label.

The last step is to install the 9-volt battery.

No metal detector leaves the factory before undergoing extensive quality-control testing.

Metal detectors for treasure hunting have larger coils so they don't need iron inserts to boost the magnetic field.

In fact, hobby detectors have two coils-- one to transmit and one to receive.

This configuration lets you set the device to detect only the types of metal you want to find.

Like before, polyester tape prevents the wound wire from unraveling.

The leads go into a device called a stripper, which bares the copper wire inside.

A testing machine ensures the coil meet the engineering specifications.

Next, they place a circuit board in the coil housing.

A cable runs from this housing to the detector head, where components interpret the coil's signals.

After installing the coils, they solder the coil leads to the board.

They immobilize everything with hot glue, then seal the components inside the housing with epoxy.

Next, they install a circuit board inside the metal detector's control pad.

They plug the cable coming from the coils into the board and power up.

This calibrates the coils to the circuit board.

Now they test the calibration with three different types of material the metal detector might find in the ground-- iron, silver, and nickel.

If everything works perfectly, assembly continues.

They install a small speaker for the alarm.

Then they attach the control pad to the head and apply the decals.

They attach a handle and arm support, then a long stem.

The cable from the coil winds upward around the stem and plugs into the detector head.

Signals from the coil travel up the cable to the electronics in the head.

A small computer analyzes these signals to determine whether the detector has found metal.

If it has, the computer activates a circuit to set off the alarm and display a message.

But the ground's by no means the limit.

There are even metal detectors designed for scuba diving that are completely submersible.

Rum comes from by-products of the sugar industry, like molasses.

The caribbean and latin america produce much of the world's rum.

Light rums are the base for cocktails like the minty mojito.

Amber rums are medium-bodied and aged for flavor.

They're often drunk straight, as is dark rum, the strongest-tasting of all.

This fine amber rum is the product of a long and complex process that begins with the harvest of mature sugarcane plants.

The cut cane goes to a sugar mill where they wash it then crush it to extract its sweet juice.

They boil it down.

This produces a kind of molasses that then goes on to a centrifuge machine that draws out excess moisture.

Rum making really beings here in these distillation towers.

This is where ferment made from molasses distills into raw rum.

To make ferment, molasses mixed with water and yeast heats in open tanks for about 30 hours.

This converts sugar into alcohol.

Here's a sample straight from one of these tanks.

Notice that foamy top layer?

That's fermentation in action.

Before distilling the contents of the tank, technicians first test a sample.

In this glass still, steam heats the ferment and releases alcohol vapors that condense at the top of the column.

As they travel down the still's spiral, the vapors cool and condense even more.

The liquid that collects in the beaker is 80% alcohol.

It's the same process inside the distillation towers on a much larger scale.

The ferment must reach 176 degrees fahrenheit to distill into raw rum.

Then it's stored in these 13,000-gallon containers until they test it for quality.

These gas-powered boilers provide the steam heat for the distillation towers.

Workers monitor the distilling towers day and night.

This facility can produce more than 10,000 gallons of raw rum a day, all stored in these gigantic silos.

From there, the raw rum goes into charred oak barrels.

It's mixed with water and left to age anywhere from 1 to 12 years.

The charred wood produces asters that give the rum color, flavor, and aroma.

The longer it ages, the more intense the flavor.

Technicians perform tests on a sample at the distillery's laboratory, closely monitoring the aging process.

First, using a hydrometer, they measure the amount of alcohol in the samples to make sure it's in the standard 50% range.

Next, they smell each sample to make sure the aromas are in balance.

They keep a journal of all their observations.

Quality control is the key to producing a consistent, flavorful product.

Once it has aged, the rum is bottled.

It's a fully automated process.

First, they sterilize new bottles in a sodium-carbonate solution.

Then a conveyer moves them to a filling station that can process 150 bottles a minute.

Rotating wheels deliver the bottles to a lever system that raises them up to the nozzles on pneumatic pumps.

They fill up with rum-- more than 72,000 of them each day.

Next, aluminum bottle caps come down a chute right onto the bottle tops.

A piston valve pushes down on the caps and tightly seals each bottle.

Next stop-- labeling.

First, a spinning roller applies glue to panels set on a rotating wheel.

The panels pass a dispenser, and a label glues onto them.

Another rotating wheel grabs the labels from the panel and transfers them onto the bottles.

Sponges press them neatly into place.

As the bottles convey out of the labeling station, brushes smooth out each label.

Finally, the bottles lower into boxes 12 at a time to ship to customers all over the world.

Tiffany lamps were invented and produced by designer louis comfort tiffany starting in the late 19th century.

They were renowned for their elaborate stained-glass shades, crafted entirely by hand.

The term tiffany has come to be used as a generic term for any lamp or hanging light fixture with a stained-glass shade.

This lighting company produces original stained-glass lamps, as well as reproductions of renown tiffany designs.

There's nothing machine-made here.

Each and every creation is meticulously handcrafted.

The lamp designer first draws a pencil sketch of the shade, then prepares a color rendition.

He produces a pattern in the lamp's actual size and assigns a number to each pattern piece, then records by code number the specific glass they'll use for each piece.

Next, they cut out the numbered pattern pieces, lay them on the corresponding glass, and trace them with a marker.

Using a glass cutter, they score the trace lines and snap them.

When a piece is too small to get enough snapping leverage, they grip the glass with special pliers called groziers.

Next, they sand-smooth the rough edges of the cut pieces so they won't puncture the adhesive copper foil that goes on next.

After wrapping each piece, they crimp the foil tightly, first with their fingers, then with a flat object.

This design, like many, incorporates glass jewels.

These come from glass suppliers ready-made.

The next step is to coat the foil with flux, a chemical that enables solder to stick.

Now with a soldering iron, they melt tin and lead solder onto the copper foil.

Initially, they just tack all the pieces together, completing one section of the shade at a time.

Then they lay the sections side by side in a curved plaster mold.

This bends them to the correct shape.

More flux.

Then with a soldering iron, they tack the sections to each other, then solder the whole interior.

Once that's done, they remove the shape from the mold and solder the whole exterior.

Now they top the shade with a brass cap and solder that on.

This lampshade design features dragonflies with brass filigree wings.

After soldering the wings in place, it's time for what's called the final beading-- a final soldering over the existing solder lines to make them even and rounded.

Now they wash the shade in an antiquing solution, which dulls the shine of both the solder and the brass cap, giving the lampshade an aged look.

In another department, they install what's called the light cluster, a rod with light sockets and a pull chain, into a lamp base.

They fish the power cord up the base and out the top, then connect the cord to the wires coming from the sockets.

They tuck in the wiring...

Apply thread-locking solution...

Then screw the base closed.

For the time being, they attach the finial that goes on top of the shade.

And now a light-bulb moment.

If everything works perfectly, the tags go on and the base gets its shade.

The bases of the original tiffanies were made of bronze.

These, both for tabletop lamps and hanging fixtures, are cast from zinc-- the same look at a fraction of the price.

For safety reasons, aircraft engines have built-in redundancy features, like dual spark plugs and dual ignition systems so that vital components have a backup.

Rising gas prices and eco awareness are compelling manufacturers to build aircraft engines that are more efficient and less polluting.

Aircraft engines are remarkable pieces of engineering.

To build a four-cylinder engine, a worker wraps abrasive tape around what's called a bearing journal on a crankshaft.

Using a polishing jack, he polishes the journal to the correct diameter, which he verifies with a digital snap gage.

An operator then oils the journal and attaches a connecting rod.

These link the pistons to the crankshaft, which turns to generate power.

Then he applies gasket sealant on the edge of the crankcase and silk thread that acts like a gasket so when the two halves of the crankcase are joined, the engine won't leak oil.

He places a camshaft into one side of the crankcase and measures the clearance to make sure it's a tight fit.

Then he oils it to ensure there is no friction.

They place the crankshaft and rod assembly into the crankcase, then join the two halves together.

To prevent the connecting rods from hitting the sides of the housing, they put on what are called torque plates.

He adds a little sealant to hold a gasket in place then attaches an accessory housing, which holds all the gears and hoses that are mounted on the back of the engine.

He installs the sump that holds the oil supply, then attaches a piston to each connecting rod.

Now he mounts a cylinder onto a piston and connects the parts to the engine.

He'll mount and secure all four cylinders this way.

He inserts hydraulic tappets and then shroud tubes.

He attaches them to the cylinder using a retainer.

He inserts a pushrod into each tube and fits a rocker arm onto each rod, completing the cylinder-and-valve-action assembly.

He steam-cleans the engine.

Then he paints it with rustproofing enamel paint.

Next come the spark plugs-- one on the top and one on the bottom of each cylinder.

He grounds and then installs two magnetos.

These devices generate the electricity for the spark plugs, which ignite the fuel in the cylinder.

He attaches the spark-plug wires from the magneto to the spark plugs, then verifies the engine timing.

Next come the heat shields...

The intake pipes...

All the spark-plug connections and drain tubes, and finally, a fuel injector.

An operator then attaches a testing propeller to the engine to keep it cool during testing.

He runs the engine using controls like a pilot would use and certifies everything from engine speed and temperature to fuel pressure and airflow.

Hours later, he checks the oil filter for signs of foreign material or contamination.

And this engine passes the test.

A worker then puts preservative oil into the cylinders.

This special oil safeguards the engine en route to the customer, whether they be general aviation manufacturers or individual owners.

Once installed in the airplane and after the standard preflight checks are done, the four-cylinder engine allows the pilot to take to the clear-blue skies in total confidence.


Horse Bits
Oat Cereal
Turquoise Jewellery
Electric Scooters

For thousands of years, riders have communicated with horses by inserting a bit in the sensitive area of the animal's mouth and manipulating it to steer him in the desired direction.

The first bits were made of rope, wood, and even bone.

Over time, bits have become far more elaborate.

With silver and gold embellishments, these western-style bits are definitely an extravagance.

But serious riders don't mind putting their money where their horse's mouth is.

To make a bit, the maker first pounds his name onto a curved steel piece.

This is the part of the bit that the reins attach to.

He stamps one letter at a time to make the lettering fit the curvature of this part.

He aims a torch at the center of a steel bar to soften it so it can be bent entirely by hand.

He bends the steel around fixtures to shape it into the bit mouthpiece.

The mouthpiece will rest on the horse's tongue and the toothless sections of the mouth between the front and back teeth.

The size and contours must be exact in order for it to sit properly in the horse's mouth.

He pounds the part that will lie on the tongue to give it a downward curve.

He trims and shapes the mouthpiece a little more and polishes it until it gleams.

He inserts steel balls in both ends and tack-welds them to the mouthpiece.

The balls are part of a hinge mechanism.

He now permanently welds the balls to the mouthpiece.

Next, he installs a copper roller on the mouthpiece.

The roller will act as a kind of soother, providing an outlet for nervous tongue action.

He sands the end of a curved steel rod to bevel the edge.

It will be part of one of the bit's shanks.

He places the top part of the bit shank in a fixture, followed by three curved rods and a ring for the reins.

Now, perfectly aligned, he welds all the parts together.

This bit shank is now ready for some decorative touches.

He welds tiny beads of stainless steel to the shank, making it look like a row of pearls.

He gives the bit's second shank the same beaded look.

He assembles the shank to the two ends of the mouthpiece.

The two shanks are ornamental, yet functional, connecting the bit mouthpiece to the bridle and reins.

He welds the hinge pins to the shanks.

Next, an engraver cuts decorative shapes in sterling silver, wriggling the tool for a zigzag effect around the edges.

He carves swirls onto it.

It takes years of practice to perfect this artistry.

One false move and he'd ruin the part.

Once the engraving is complete, he brushes an acid cleaning solution on the back.

He then melts a tin-and-silver alloy and applies it to the back of the engraved piece, spreading it for maximum coverage.

This molten metal will serve as a solder to fuse the engraved part to the shank.

To prepare the shank, he heats it from the bottom and cleans it with more of the acid solution.

He applies more solder and transfers the engraved silver to the bit shank.

He reheats the shank to ensure the solder is completely molten before cooling and fusing the parts together.

The engraving is now one with the shank, and he washes it with clear tap water.

After he solders more engravings to the bit, he polishes the silver until it gleams.

Now, the bit just needs the headstall.

That's the leather harness that holds the bit in the horse's mouth.

He slips the headstall tabs into rings on the bit's shanks and screws the ends of each tab very tightly together.

Crafted entirely by hand, it takes a couple of days to make one of these bits.

After that, it's time to take it for a test trot.

Breakfast cereal is most commonly made from such grains as wheat, corn, rice, and oats.

Oats are a popular choice for health reasons.

They contain a soluble fiber called beta-glucan, which, when consumed regularly, helps maintain normal blood cholesterol levels.

These tasty little oat "o"s come ready to eat in a bowl with milk or dry as an easy and portable crunchy snack.

At the cereal factory, production begins with the bulk ingredients, mainly oat flour and wheat starch.

After the mixer blends these ingredients thoroughly, an air-driven tubular conveyer transfers them to the next station, which blends in the lesser-quantity ingredients, primarily salt and fortifying minerals such as calcium.

The entire dry mix is sifted, then transferred to the next station, which adds water to transform it into dough.

Then the machine cooks the dough by heating it with steam for approximately a minute.

An extrusion machine now compresses the dough and forces it through a stainless-steel forming die.

The forming die is a large disc with hundreds of little "o"-shaped holes.

The dough exits the die holes as long "o"-shaped tubes, which knives then cut into individual "o"s.

At this point, the cereal's moisture content is about 30%.

In order for the "o"s to be crunchy, that has to be reduced to about 3%.

So the next station spreads them out on a conveyer, which travels through a warm-air drying tunnel for about an hour.

When the cereal exits the dryer, the moisture content is down to about 11%.

The next operation is so top-secret, the company won't let us show it.

It's called expansion.

A heating process turns the moisture in the "o"s to steam.

This expanding steam puffs the "o"s much the way hot air pops popcorn.

This is what the "o"s look like prior to expansion...

And after.

They lighten in color due to the air inside.

Next, the cereal travels over screens.

The mesh is just the right size to let the "o"s remain on top, and any smaller, broken pieces fall through.

Now the cereal enters the coating station.

The coating is a combination of sugar and water, with water boiled out to reduce the mixture to a concentrated syrup.

The cereal enters a coating drum.

Inside, two nozzles spray the syrup on the "o"s.

Continual rotation ensures the application is thorough and even.

To dry the coating and further dry the cereal, the "o"s now travel on a belt through another warm-air dryer for about 20 minutes.

This reduces the cereal's moisture content to the target level of 3%.

For quality control, the factory regularly tests samples of the finished product.

First measuring the moisture content...

Then checking the density, which is calculated by weighing a specific quantity of cereal.

Assuming everything checks out, the cereal proceeds to packaging.

The packaging machine feeds plastic film around a fill tube, which drops in 20 ounces of cereal.

Heat seals the top of the bag as well as the bottom of what will be the next bag, then cuts the filled bag loose to the conveyer belt below.

It passes the bags through a metal detector to ensure no foreign object fell in accidentally during production.

The next machine slides each bag into a cereal carton, stamps on the eight-month "best before" date, then seals the carton flap shut with food-grade hot glue.

As each box of cereal exits the production line, it passes over what's called a check weigher, a scale which ensures the package contains the correct quantity of oat cereal.

Turquois jewelry has adorned the human form for thousands of years.

Worn by egyptian pharaohs and aztec kings, turquois was one of the first gemstones to be crafted into jewelry.

Fast forward to today and turquois hasn't lost its luster.

In the american southwest, native people have long mined the earth for a stone that is as blue as the sky.

Turning it into jewelry is a tribal tradition.

There are many shades of turquois, and some are more greenish than blue.

The artist rinses off the dirt and debris to reveal the true color of each stone.

He evaluates them and selects one.

He cuts it with a circular saw.

As he cuts, he lubricates the stone with water to keep it cool, because too much heat could cause discoloration.

He cuts the stone thinner again, with an eye to fitting the turquois in a silver pendant setting.

He sands the surface flat and smooth so it will sit well in the setting.

He selects coordinating pieces for a mosaic work and sands them to create an equally flat surface.

He now etches a line on a sheet of silver and then saws along this line to produce a silver strip.

This silver strip will now be used to make the pendant setting.

He wraps it around a steel mandrel to shape it into a loop.

Then, using a leather mallet, he gently pounds the silver to the mandrel to perfect the shape.

He pinches the ends with pliers to close the loop.

Next, he saws a silver square.

He stamps the maker's insignia onto it, as well as the hallmark indicating the silver's purity.

He seals the silver loop with solder.

He places the loop on the front of the silver square that he's covered with a flux.

This paste facilitates the soldering process as he now joins the loop to the square.

He cuts the square to round it to the loop using metal shears.

The pendant setting has now taken shape.

Using a fine abrasive file, he gets rid of the excess silver around the rim, and he smoothes the edges.

He solders a loop for the chain to the pendant setting.

The chain loop is known as the bail.

The artist is now ready to create a turquois mosaic in this setting.

The initial cuts were just approximate, so the stones don't exactly fit together in the setting.

He grinds each one a little at a time until they do.

He's careful to not grind too much.

That would leave gaps in the mosaic.

Each stone must sit snugly against the next in the silver setting.

He handles the turquois gently because it's a soft stone and breaks easily.

In the event of a fracture, he improvises and treats it as an artistic opportunity.

He cuts a tiny bit of another stone to complete the mosaic.

It serves as an accent piece, enhancing this stone mosaic pattern.

The turquois stones now all fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

He removes the stones from the setting and mixes a two-part epoxy.

He applies a generous amount to the setting.

He places the turquois stones back in the pendant in their original configuration.

The epoxy dries quickly and the stones bond to the silver in minutes.

The turquois mosaic now undergoes an intensive sanding, beginning with a rough-grit sandpaper and ending with a fine one.

The sanding makes the seams almost disappear.

He applies a sapphire grit and water solution to a leather buffing wheel and polishes the pendant until it takes on a nice patina.

Crafted using techniques handed down through the generations, native turquois jewelry still makes a statement.

That's why it never seems to go out of style.

An electric scooter is a motorized version of the traditional foot-powered kick scooter.

While the kick scooter is designed primarily for children, the battery-powered electric scooter is decidedly an adult vehicle, popular with urban commuters looking for a simple and inexpensive set of wheels.

This isn't your kid's scooter.

Lightweight, battery-powered, and foldable, it reaches speeds of up to 20 miles per hour and can carry a passenger weighing up to a hefty 250 pounds.

Most of the components, like this sprocket, which goes on the rear wheel, are made of aircraft-grade aluminum-- a high-strength, yet lightweight metal.

After cutting the shape, the computer-guided milling machine cuts decorative holes that further lighten the weight.

A punch press cuts the shape of the brake disc, made of aircraft-grade stainless steel, also a strong, yet lightweight metal.

The scooter chassis is made of high-strength steel.

To one end, they weld on a bushing for the real axle.

To the other end, a large tube to house the scooter's electric motor.

To that support tube, they weld the front part of the chassis to which they'll later connect the handlebar.

They also weld on a support for the rear wheel.

They paint the chassis with what's known in the industry as powder coat-- dry paint particles applied with an electrostatic charge, an application technique which ensures full, even coverage.

The chassis goes through an oven for about five minutes at 403° fahrenheit to bake on the finish.

The brake disc, meanwhile, has gone through a heat-treatment process for strengthening, and has acquired aluminum spacers to properly position the first magnesium wheel rim, which goes on next, followed by the rubber tire, then the second wheel rim.

To hold this front wheel assembly together, they thread a lug nut into the bolt protruding from each spacer.

These lug nuts are self-locking, meaning their threads are shaped in such a way that they won't loosen during normal use.

This is an important safety feature.

Next, workers insert the battery-powered electric motor into the support tube on the chassis.

After securing the motor in place with screws, they install the drive-chain adjuster.

The drive chain links the motor to the rear wheel.

This adjuster maintains the appropriate chain tension under all conditions.

Now they mount the rear axle and rear wheel with its large sprocket.

They install a small sprocket on the drive shaft, which protrudes from the motor.

Then they take the drive chain, made of high-strength steel, and hook it around the two sprockets.

They mount the rear fender and chain guard, both made of high-strength plastic, then tighten the axle to hold everything together securely.

Now for the scooter's handlebar.

An automated welding machine fuses two aluminum tubes into a "t".

After chemically treating the handlebar to prevent corrosion and wear, they install a catch that holds the handle to the base when the scooter's folded.

Next, the lever for the disc brake on the front wheel and the control for the motor.

Last but not least, rubber handlebar grips, embossed with a snazzy design.

The motor control has a push-button ignition, a thumb throttle for regulating speed, and a battery-life indicator.

With the motor control and brake lines taped in their proper position, workers mount the handlebar on the chassis with the hinge pin, enabling it to fold down onto the base.

They mount the front wheel with its disc brake.

When you activate the handlebar brake lever, this caliper and pad grab the disc, which stops the rotating wheel.

An aluminum pan in the base holds the battery, battery charger, and all the electronics.

They cover it with a birchwood platform on which the rider stands.

The wood has a weatherproof coating and features the company logo in nonskid material to prevent the rider's feet from slipping.

The mechanics are simple.

The motor turns the drive shaft, which turns the small sprocket, which turns the chain, which turns the large sprocket mounted on the rear wheel, propelling the scooter.


Photographs
Fur Tanning
Welding Electrodes
Electric Violins

Today on "how it's made"...

Photographs...

Fur tanning...

Welding electrodes...

And electric violins.

In the 1830s, the first photographers used light-sensitive chemicals to capture images on paper.

Today, machines do much the same but with amazing speed, accuracy, and versatility.

It's a tried and true method many people still prefer to make their memories into pictures.

The photo lab receives envelopes containing rolls of film for developing.

Processing will turn each exposure into a negative image and then a positive.

That positive is what we know as a photograph.

A scanner takes a digital photo of the order detail specified on the packages.

It tracks things such as print size and finish and the number of copies you ordered.

A conveyer then sorts the envelopes into bins, grouping them with similar orders.

Next, a machine extracts the film rolls from the metal capsules in total darkness.

Exposing the film to light would ruin the photos.

The envelopes go into bundles so they can later be re-matched with the right pictures and negatives.

Here's what the machine looks like inside.

A blade cuts open the metal capsule, and another slices off the leader.

The machine unravels and lines up as many as 60 films end-to-end.

The films are just over three feet long.

A sticker joins the ends and identifies each film with a bar code.

The machine measures the assembled strip, then winds it onto a reel inside a metal box.

Another machine unwinds the reel and runs it under a nondamaging infrared light so that a technician can check for tears.

Just one tiny tear could jam the machine and ruin all the photos.

If the tech does find a tear, he repairs it by hand.

He puts his arms in the machine's little dark room so as not to expose the film to regular light.

First, he applies tape to reattach the area.

Blades then cut the tape evenly on both sides.

The worker is able to see what he's doing on a tv monitor hooked up to an infrared camera inside.

Developing the exposures requires four chemical baths still in the dark.

In the first, sulfates make the image appear as a negative.

The second includes acetic acid to halt the effect of the sulfates.

The last two baths preserve the image and rinse away chemical traces.

To print the pictures, workers load the negatives into yet another machine.

This one contains light-sensitive paper.

All it takes is a flash to transfer the image.

But that light is powerful, almost as bright as the sun.

A sensor instantly adjusts the intensity to correct any improper exposure by the photographer.

To develop the prints, the paper goes through four chemical baths similar to those used for the negatives.

One bath reveals the image, another stops that process, and two more preserve the image and rinse off the chemicals.

What's different this time is that the paper then heads into an oven to dry for two minutes at 160 degrees fahrenheit.

Now a technician marks the pictures that are too bright, too dim, or out of focus, and then removes them for redevelopment.

Next, a machine unwinds the strip, scans the bar codes, and cuts out the pictures that belong together.

It also cuts the negatives into numbered strips of four.

A worker now slips the proper photos and negatives into an envelope.

The computer shows her what to include, and a machine provides the original package the film came in.

When you get your photos, you can check them against your original order.

That way, you can ensure that everything's picture-perfect.

Fur has been in style since prehistoric times.

Talk about a fashion original.

In those early days, fur garments were pretty basic.

Their main purpose was to keep people warm, a primary need.

These days, fur is often a fashion choice, but it still provides old-fashioned warmth.

At the tanning plant, a worker sorts through raw beaver pelts purchased at auction.

He inspects the quality of the hair, then determines the type of garment they're suitable for.

He hammers a lot number into the underside of the pelt.

It perforates the skin.

This technique is used so that the number stays on the pelt during processing.

Using a pneumatic punch, he cuts out the ear cartilage.

It's a crucial step.

They need to get rid of the cartilage early on so the pelts can go through certain machines during tanning.

The pelts are a bit dried out because of preservation techniques used before they were delivered to the tanning plant.

To rehydrate them, they put them through various chemical washes.

The final bath contains tanning chemicals.

They convert the underside of the animal skins to leather.

The supple leather texture will allow the pelts to eventually be shaped into garments.

Between each wash, the furs go into a ringer.

It spins out the excess liquid.

All that moisture has caused the pelt to thicken, so they thin it down with a spinning blade called a flesher's knife.

You need to be an expert to wield this tool.

One false move, and you'll cut into the follicles and lose fur.

Next, a worker shovels sawdust into a big drum.

He gathers up the pelts and places them in the drum along with the sawdust and adds a mineral solution.

The drum turns, tossing it all for about half an hour.

This cleans and conditions the leather side of the pelts.

The furs emerge still damp, so they hang them over wooden dowels leather side up.

The rest of the sawdust will fall away in subsequent operations.

Now a worker scrapes off the pelt's long hair to expose the downy undercoat.

This undercoat has a more desirable look and texture.

He rubs a generous amount of oil into the leather of the pelt to lubricate it.

Then he tosses the pelts into a kicker box, so named for the automated kickers.

The kicking action causes the oils to penetrate the skin.

Next, a spinning metal wheel tugs at the pelt to stretch it.

A worker cuts away the edges...

And it's into the hot-press.

This irons and adds luster to the fur.

After a quick brush, the pelts get one more press.

Then a shearing machine cuts the hairs to an even length.

Finally, they bundle up the pelts for a trip to the garment factory, where they'll be great design material.

More than a century ago, welders first fused two metal surfaces by melting a metal stick over them using an electric current.

That stick is now called a welding electrode.

It's the simplest and most popular way to weld.

Farmers and mechanics often use this tool to repair heavy machinery.

This company's electrodes are coated with powdered metals and minerals.

During welding, the metals melt, and the minerals protect the area from oxygen, which would weaken the bond.

The electrode transmits an electric current that heats and melts both the electrode and the metal surfaces, welding them together.

Thin metal wire forms the electrode's core.

The kind of wire depends on what the electrode is designed to weld.

But most often, the core's made of carbon or stainless steel.

A machine simultaneously spins and bends it, evenly reshaping the wire until it's completely straight.

Four metal rollers then push and guide the wire into a guillotine.

The blade chops the wire into segments that will become the electrode cores.

These segments range from 10 to 17 1/2 inches long.

The factory puts a variety of metals and minerals in the coating.

The metals are often nickel, manganese...

And iron.

The minerals-- alumina, magnesia, and limestone.

They also add a colorant to differentiate the models.

Workers mix the ingredients with a bit of glue until they turn to the consistency of wet sand.

A worker then packs the mix into a machine that forms it into slugs with a hole down the middle.

He adds a plastic cap.

Then a metal cover slides on, and the machine takes over.

It takes only a minute for the machine's piston to compress the powder into a solid.

Now to put the powder coating on the core wires.

A worker loads four slugs into an extrusion press.

It will apply 120 tons of pressure on the slugs to shoot the powder through nozzles that will coat the wires as they pass through the slug's hole.

To load the wires into the press, they first stack them in this feeder.

The opening at the bottom is adjustable for different diameters because core wires range from spaghetti-thin to pencil-thick.

These rollers pass them through the press one at a time.

Four wheels then pull the wires from the feeder into the extrusion press for coating at a rate of up to 1,000 electrodes a minute.

When the coated electrodes emerge, they hit a metal wheel that positions them on a conveyer.

A sander removes up to 2 1/2 inches of coating from the bottom where you grip the electrode, and it bevels the tip so it conducts electricity even better.

A worker now checks for uneven coating and to see if the wire's well centered.

The coating dries at room temperature for up to 72 hours.

To cure the coating, workers put the electrodes in an oven heated to 905 degrees fahrenheit for up to 5 hours.

Once they've cooled, the electrodes head into a printing press.

An ink wheel first prints the model and type of current that's required.

Another ink wheel then applies a color to the gripping end.

It's another way to differentiate the model in case the lettering on the side rubs off in storage.

From there, it's off to packaging.

An optical scanner counts the electrodes.

Then a stacking machine separates them into 7.7- to 11-pound bundles.

Finally, a worker inserts them into cardboard canisters.

He adds a piece of cardboard to compress them tightly for the trip.

A sticker marks the contents, and tape keeps the package tightly sealed.

The invention of the electric violin was all about turning up the volume.

It was back in the big-band era, and the sound of the traditional violin was overpowered by the horns and drums.

Amplifying the violin changed everything.

Suddenly, the violin wasn't just a background sound.

It was part of the show.

The wired violin comes in different shapes because it doesn't rely on the body to resonate sound.

This craftsman builds his electric violins one piece at a time, starting with the neck.

He traces the shape onto a piece of maple.

Then, he outlines the top plate.

He uses walnut for the lower bout, or bottom part, as well as for the backbone of the violin.

Next, he cuts out the shapes using a band saw.

His goal here is to be very precise because the closer he gets to the outline, the less sanding he'll have to do later.

The dimensions for the top and neck are exactly the same as a traditional violin, so there won't be any difference in the reference points the violinist relies on.

The lower bout is very stylized...

And the head is more streamlined than a traditional violin.

There's no decorative scroll.

Next, he chisels out a cavity in the head of the violin to create the pegbox.

He carves parallel grooves onto the back to give it a snazzy look.

Using a rasp, he shaves the wood to the correct thickness.

He drills holes for the tuning pegs into the side of the pegbox, one for each of the four strings.

He files down the grooves on the back a little more.

Then he scrapes the rest of the neck to give it a final finish.

Using a reamer, he tapers the peg holes.

The ebony pegs have matching tapers, so they fit snugly into the holes.

He checks to make sure everything measures up.

Now he brushes wood glue onto the next section and presses the ebony fingerboard onto it.

He wraps them with surgical tubing to hold them together while the glue dries.

He drills two assembly holes in the top piece and makes corresponding holes in the other parts.

He smoothes the edges of the backbone with an oscillating sander.

Then, using a high-speed router, he bevels the lower bout piece to give it a clean edge.

He rubs teal-colored stain into the wood because loud colors seem appropriate for these high-volume instruments.

A crystal has been glued into the violin's wooden bridge to generate electricity from the string's vibrations and create sound.

He pulls the wire from the bridge through the backbone...

And then mounts the bout to the backbone.

He bolts an ebony chin rest on top.

Next, he attaches the neck to the rest of the assembly.

He loops on the ebony tailpiece.

He pulls a string from the tailpiece to a peg.

The act of tightening the first string raises the bridge, which will be held in place only by tension.

Now it's time to hook up the violin to the amplifier and let the music tell the rest of the story.


In the 21st century, there's more than one way to chase down a perpetrator.

The electric stand-up vehicle goes where traditional police and security cars can't-- sidewalks, parks, shopping malls, even airports.

The officer stands for better visibility.

For a suspect, there may be nowhere to run.

This electric three-wheeler is the latest thing on the police beat.

Not only can it travel in areas that are inaccessible to cars, but its environmental footprint is lighter than a regular police cruiser.

It's energy efficient and it generates no local pollutants.

Production starts with the vehicle's frame.

An employee assembles the tube steel parts and welds them together.

The next worker attaches the vehicle's control-board panel to the welded frame.

He inserts the steering shaft into the column and slides a plastic collar onto the bottom of the shaft.

He secures the collar with screws and tightens the adjustment mechanism.

He installs the second collar on the upper part of the steering shaft.

The two collars will stabilize the shaft to keep the front wheel of the vehicle straight.

He plugs the electric motor cable into the control panel.

Next, another member of the team sprays a uniform layer of a gel coat onto a two-part mold of the vehicle chassis.

The gel will act as a release agent for the finished chassis.

They make the chassis from fiberglass.

He sprays it evenly into the crevices of the molds.

He presses out air bubbles using a rubber roller.

The fiberglass dries and solidifies, taking the shape of the mold.

The surface is smooth, but there are some ragged bits around the edges.

Those are sanded.

He cuts out a slot in the upper part of the chassis for a police warning light.

Finally, the chassis gets a coat of automotive-grade white paint.

He paints the wheel wells black, and with that, the outer chassis is complete.

There's an interior panel and it's made of fiberglass, too.

A member of the team mounts it to the inside of the steel-frame assembly.

He then secures the outer panel to the vehicle frame.

This electric three-wheel vehicle is ready for the rear-wheel hubs and brake rotors.

He clamps brake calipers to the rotors.

The wheels are next.

The rear ones are motorcycle wheels.

For the front, they use a golf-cart wheel.

He equips the wheel with a pulley system to transfer energy from the motor.

He installs the 1-horsepower motor and attaches the pulley to it.

The motor is the size of a lunch bucket, but can pull up to 450 pounds and reach 20 miles per hour.

He hooks up the front wheel to testing equipment and powers up.

It evaluates the motor speed and noise.

It also detects any undue strain or wheel wobbling.

Satisfied with the front-wheel assembly, he installs it on the vehicle.

He wires, and then attaches the throttle and brake control to the handlebar.

They carpet the floor with non-slip rubberized foam and then slide the two rechargeable batteries into their respective compartments.

The charge time is three to four hours.

Next, this grab handle gives the driver something extra to hang on to.

They equip the vehicle with warning lights and a high-beam headlight.

This electric patrol vehicle has been six hours in the making, and it's now ready for a spin.

Nowadays, you don't have to wait for your favorite fruit to be in season.

You can buy it year-round in the freezer section of your local supermarket.

Frozen fruit is useful to have on hand for baking, for making fruit salads or smoothies, to use as a topping, or to eat as a healthy snack.

Timing is everything.

For example, strawberries, when sold fresh, are picked well before they're ripe so they won't spoil before reaching store shelves as much as a week later.

But if the berries are for the freezer section, they're harvested when fully ripe.

That state of perfection will be frozen in time within 36 hours.

Farm workers pick the berries by hand and trim them right in the field with one swipe over a sharp stainless-steel blade.

Within 90 minutes of harvesting, the strawberries are on their way by refrigerated truck to the nearby processing plant for cleaning, sorting, and quick freezing.

First stop on the processing line, a bath in fresh water to remove field dirt.

This wheel gently submerges every last strawberry.

Then, a shower of clean rinse water.

Followed by a spray rinse with highly-chlorinated water to sanitize the berries.

Next, eagle-eyed workers pick out and discard any bruised or under-ripe berries.

The rest receive a final rinse en route to the freezing tunnel.

Temperature--  -34 degrees fahrenheit.

The cooling coils contain liquid ammonia-- a refrigerant commonly used for industrial-scale freezing.

Inside the tunnel, where the frigid air circulates at high speed, the berries freeze in about 20 minutes.

Upon exiting, they ride through a sorting machine.

The smaller berries drop through narrower gaps between the rollers near the top, the medium-size ones through wider gaps partway down, while the larger ones continue to the bottom.

These peaches, also handpicked when ripe, go through the same cleaning process as the strawberries.

First a bath, then a shower.

Then a sanitizing rinse with chlorinated water.

After workers pick out leaves, twigs, and any less-than-perfect fruit, a sorting machine sorts the peaches by size-- small, medium, and large-- sending each size to a separate conveyor belt.

Each belt leads to a different line of stainless-steel pitting machines, adjusted for the size of the incoming fruit.

First, the machine places the peaches stem-down.

Next, a knife cuts the peach in half along its natural line.

Then mechanical jaws grab the stone inside and dislodge it by twisting the two halves of the peach in opposite directions.

Each machine can pit 90 peaches per minute, so the only way to see that action is in slow motion.

All the peach halves and stones coming out of the pitters tumble onto a vibrating conveyor.

The stones fall through the holes while the peaches, larger than the holes, continue on.

A conveyor flips them cut-side up so that workers can inspect and remove any stone fragments.

The next conveyor gradually lines them up in single file to enter the slicing machines.

The slicer blades cut each half into four to six pieces, depending on what format the customer ordered.

Then the slices go into the freezing tunnel.

Peach slices take slightly longer than strawberries to freeze--  about 25 minutes.

To prevent the frozen fruit from defrosting, the air temperature in the packaging area is a frigid 39 degrees fahrenheit.

An automated scales weighs out the per-package quantity, then drops the berries into a retail bag.

The machine then heat seals the bag and deposits it on the final conveyor, which goes to the pre-shipping freezer.

Only 15 minutes have passed since the fruit was frozen, and just 24 hours since it was field picked.

Liquid refreshment can leave its mark on the table.

Coasters come between the glass and that.

But two centuries ago, coasters were mainly placed on the rim of the glass to keep out flies.

Made of felt, they unfortunately spread germs, so the cardboard coaster was invented to improve hygiene on the pub scene.

Beverage coasters protect the table and are also a marketing tool.

Raise the glass, and you'll see advertising catchphrases and promotional graphics.

In fact, some bar hoppers consider coasters pub art and accumulate vast collections.

Production at this facility in germany starts with spruce wood.

In this case, it's from the black forest nearby.

They spray the wood with water to moisten the bark.

Then it's into a tumbler that tosses the wood logs.

As they knock against each other, the bark peels off.

The de-barked wood exits onto a conveyor with slots to correctly orient it for entry into a massive grinder.

Inside, chains press the wood logs against the grinding stone, shredding them into chips.

Water flows over the grinding stone to cool it and carry away the chips, which are then mixed into a mash that has a porridge-like consistency.

It's pure wood pulp.

They now add leftover product from previous beer-coaster production to the pulp.

This will be used to make the middle layer of the beer coasters.

Finally, they mix residual paper from the manufacturer of magazines and envelopes with water.

This creates a lighter-colored pulp.

It will be used for the printable surfaces of the beer coaster.

They spray the pulp onto a mesh that drains water from it.

The fibrous wood core goes between the layers of the lighter pulp.

Spigots apply a mix of wheat starch and water that acts as a glue between the layers.

Off the mesh conveyors now, the pulp board travels between cylinders that squeeze out the moisture.

More heated cylinders dry it.

Knives now cut the board into large rectangles sized for the coaster-printing and cutting machinery.

This specialty cardboard is known as wood-pulp board.

It's lightweight yet highly absorbent.

Next it's over to the printing department to put the beer-coaster artwork on the wood-pulp board.

They use offset printing-- a process that involves more revolving cylinders.

Color cylinders pick up ink and transfer it to the printing cylinders.

From there, the image goes to a rubber-wrapped cylinder that then prints it onto the sheets.

A print specialist scrutinizes the print job close up with a magnifying glass.

He checks the color and clarity of the images and confirms that they're correctly positioned on the sheet.

The borders of the images must line up with the grid of blades on the die-cutting machinery.

If the alignment is even slightly off, every coaster on the sheet would be ruined as the die cutter punches out the coasters, dozens of them in one swoop.

The coasters end up over little chutes, and pushers give them a nudge.

They fall down the chutes and land neatly on a pallet below.

The coasters stack up, and when there are 100 or so in each pile, they're ready for packaging.

Machinery shrink wraps the stacks, and they're ready for the thirsty masses.

This factory can produce and package 10 million offset-printed beer coasters every day, so there should be no shortage at cocktail hour.

They also print coasters using a centuries-old technology known as letterpress.

Blank coasters drop down into the machine.

A rolling wheel presses each coaster against an ink plate.

It's a system that both prints the image and embosses it on the cardboard.

It's a difference you can both see and feel.

Letterpress production is lower volume than offset, generating 100,000 coasters per day.

For coasters, the design possibilities are endless.

Just raise a glass and enjoy.

A door handle is a decorative detail that delivers tremendous bang for the buck.

It's quite inexpensive, yet through its design, material, and finish, contributes immensely to defining the style of a space, from traditional to ultra modern.

These hand-forged iron handles open the door to a rustic english country decor.

While the handle itself is iron, the backplate behind it is steel.

A computer-guided water machine cuts the backplate out of a 3-millimeter-thick steel sheet.

The machine slices through the steel not with a blade or saw, but with a concentrated high-pressure jet of water.

The water contains a tiny amount of a super-fine abrasive and cuts through the steel with 2,000 times the pressure of a car tire.

The jet cuts the contour of the backplate, then holes for the key, the mechanism, and the screws, which affix the plate to the door.

Next, with a beveling machine, they cut a neat angle on all four sides of the backplate.

This smooths the sharp edges and gives the backplate a finished look.

Meanwhile, on a computer-guided lave, a knife progressively shapes a round steel bar into the main component of the door-handle mechanism-- the inner barrel.

The next tool bores a hole in it to receive the spindle-- a bolt that runs through the door, connecting the handles on either side.

To make the handle, a blacksmith heats up an iron bar in the 1,600-degree heat of a forge and hammers it to a tapered point.

Then he repeatedly reheats and works the iron, hammering it some more and bending it against a steel forming jig.

With each bend, the handle comes closer to the final shape.

Once the blacksmith has completed his work and the iron handle has cooled, they drill a hole to receive the mechanism.

Then with another tool, they angle the edges of the hole.

This increases the surface area to which they now weld the mechanism's inner barrel.

The larger the welded area, the stronger the weld.

The welder places both components in a positioning jig to get the proper alignment, then welds them together.

He removes the assembly from the jig, flips it, and welds from the other side.

They grind the weld lines flat, rendering them unnoticeable.

If the handle is supposed to have a hammered finish, this is when they create that texture with, you guessed it, a hammer.

Now they heat the handle assembly and the steel backplate in the forge, then dip them in a vat of beeswax.

This protects against rust when used indoors.

With the main components now ready, final assembly can begin, starting with the mechanism.

They slip a nylon washer, then a steel spring over the inner barrel.

Next, they grease the outer barrel made of forged iron and place it over the inner barrel.

The washer in between the barrels eliminates friction when they move against each other.

This prevents the barrel from wearing out and squeaking.

They install a tab washer made of nickel-plated steel.

This tab restricts the barrel's rotation so that it doesn't simply spin around and around.

This high-strength steel locking clip holds the inner and outer barrels and that important tab washer in place.

Now that the handle and mechanism are complete, all that remains is to align backplate to handle and secure it in position with screws.

Each retail package contains two handles and two backplates-- one for each side of the door.

Also in the box, the steel spindle that goes through the door, connecting the barrels so that the handles turn in unison to retract the latch and open the door.

While their mechanics are hidden from view, these hand-forged handles are certainly a sight to be seen.


Cars
Grocery Carts
Rapid Tooling and Prototyping
Collectible Coins

Today on "how it's made"...

Cars...

Grocery carts...

Rapid tooling and prototyping...

And collectible coins.

The automotive industry has seen a lot of changes in recent years.

More and more robots are replacing workers on the assembly line, and it isn't just cars and trucks coming off the line anymore.

Today's hot wheels are sport-utility vehicles and vans.

In the plant's body shop, they begin by putting together the front structure of the van.

It's made up of the radiator support, two side rails, and clips on the front of those side rails for the bumper structure.

Then they put this front structure onto the automated production line.

Meanwhile, robots weld what's known as the ladder assembly.

It's the backbone that supports the floor and sides of the van.

It contains, among other things, the pockets that will hold the seats.

Now the robots take the front-end structure and the ladder assembly and weld them together.

Elsewhere, robots work on the body panel for the passenger side of the van.

The entire panel is made of one piece of galvanized steel.

The robots weld reinforcements onto the panel so they can later attach interior finishing and other components.

A transfer device swoops down and transfers the panel to the next station.

The driver's side body panel, coming off another welding line, is headed there, too.

At the next station, robots have already installed an underbody with a floor panel on top of the ladder-assembly unit we saw earlier.

Now the robots weld the body side panels to the underbody.

They also weld inner wheel wells to the body's side panels.

Then they weld on a roof.

The van then rolls into the area of the body shop called closures.

That's where they install the lift gate, the hood, and the doors.

An inspector checks the gaps around the hood, looks for dents and dings in the body, and makes sure the doors are flush with the side panels.

He marks any areas that need repair or adjustments with removable ink.

The engines arrive at the plant already assembled.

Workers just have to install and adjust a few components.

Meanwhile, the van is off at the paint shop, followed by the trim shop for glass, handles, and interior components.

In the chassis department, the engine, transmission, rear suspension, and brake assembly are installed from underneath.

This part of the assembly line has two tiers.

The van goes on top, the components on the bottom.

The machines that install the components have long pins that fit into holes in the van's underbody.

This positions the components with precision.

Workers hook up the gas tank manually.

The seats arrive ready-made from a nearby factory.

They simply clamp into place in the seat pockets that were welded onto the ladder assembly earlier.

An automated machine attaches the tire to the wheel rim.

Then it inflates and balances the tire.

Workers mount the tires, starting the nuts by hand, then tightening them with tools.

Now the van comes off the carrier and goes full weight on its wheels for the first time.

Workers start up the ignition and run the van through a series of tests.

It's taken the plant about 24 hours to produce this vehicle, which will soon be on its way to a car dealership.

Geomatics is a high-tech science whose objective is to gather geographic information, then study and use it.

The tools of geomatics range from cartography to remote sensing to satellite imaging.

We wouldn't be able to study the environment or monitor and develop our natural resources without geomatic data.

An oklahoma grocer invented the first shopping cart back in 1937.

He noticed his customers stopped shopping once their hand baskets became too heavy to carry.

His basket on wheels became a rollaway success.

This factory makes about 50 different models of shopping carts.

They're built with heavy-duty steel and carbon wire.

A single cart is made up of more than 150 wire pieces of various lengths and diameters.

Automated machines bend the wires to form the carts' numerous components.

To make the cart's basket, a worker uses a guide called a jig loader to line up the wires in a mesh formation.

Then a machine automatically spot-welds them together.

The next machine applies 20 tons of pressure to bend the wires into a basket shape.

A robot welds the sides of the basket.

A worker then trims off the excess wire.

An automated machine bends a piece of wire to form the handle of the shopping cart.

They make the frame for the base of the cart, called the chassis, out of one thick tube that's 13 feet long.

A robot welds the chassis using wire melted by an electrical current.

This creates a very strong joint.

A die machine punches out casters that'll hold the wheels.

They're made of thick steel for extra strength and durability.

They spot-weld the casters to the chassis.

They clean the cart's metal components in a bath of soap and acid.

They electroplate the metal with nickel, then with chrome as a finishing coat.

It's finally time for the cart to take shape.

They rivet the wheels to the chassis...

Then install the bottom rack.

The basket comes next.

They print the warnings on the plastic panel for the collapsible baby seat.

Then the seat goes on along with the plastic corner bumpers.

They print the store's name on the handle inserts.

The handle goes on last.

After some final adjustments and a quality control check, the newly minted shopping cart is ready to roll.

Every machine, from your vacuum cleaner to your car, is made up of a series of parts.

Those parts are designed by specialized companies.

They first build a prototype, then make the molds or tools needed to manufacture the parts.

They design the part in 3-d on a computer.

The computer then guides the machines that construct the prototype.

One method divides the 3-d drawing into cross-sectional layers just a few thousandths of an inch thick.

It feeds this information to a laser that's directed at a tray filled with a light-sensitive liquid resin.

The laser's light hardens the resin in the shape of the part layer by layer, eventually constructing the prototype.

They rotate the prototype under ultraviolet light for a few hours to cure the resin.

Then they polish or paint the prototype according to the requirements of the design.

Another prototyping method works much the same way but uses a fine, powdered plastic instead of resin.

The computer guides the laser to melt the powder in the shape of the part, again layer by layer.

They extract the hardened prototype from the unmelted powder.

A third method of prototyping doesn't use a laser at all.

The computer simply guides machinery to carve the prototype out of a hard material such as a wood composite.

Once a prototype is ready, they use it to construct a model of the part out of a very durable resin.

They'll use that model to make a mold, then they'll use that mold to cast the part out of metal.

The resin model dries at room temperature in 24 hours.

Its surface must be smooth or else the mold will have defects.

They attach channels that will guide the molten metal into the mold.

Next, they fill the model with a mix of sand and a binding agent.

They smooth out the surface, then number it for tracking purposes.

The sand mix takes about 15 minutes to harden into a mold.

Now they can finally cast the part.

They carefully pour in the molten medal, in this case, magnesium, heat it to about 1,300-degrees fahrenheit.

They block the hole with sand to prevent the metal from reacting to the air.

The metal takes about 10 to 20 minutes to harden, depending on the size of the mold.

They crack the mold open on a vibrating conveyer.

They use a plaster mold to cast parts that require a better surface finish.

Workers position a box around the prototype to contain the plaster.

The mold goes into an oven at about 570-degrees fahrenheit.

It takes 48 to 72 hours to cure, but it's not ready for casting just yet.

Workers first have to pierce some holes in it to let all the air escape or the metal won't flow into all the crevices.

And they have to put in filters to keep out impurities.

They strap the two halves of the plaster mold together, securing them with metal screws.

Workers carefully pour in molten magnesium, using a special gas to prevent the metal from catching fire.

Again, they seal the opening with sand.

It takes the metal anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour to cool.

Then they break open the plaster to remove the metal part.

They cut off the channels through which they poured in the metal and polish the part using grinders and sanders.

Then they paint it using special spray paint that adheres to magnesium.

The part is finally finished.

It takes several weeks to prototype and tool metal machine parts.

When you think about it, even the machine that make these parts are made of parts that were created with this method.

The first people to make coins were the lydians in asia minor in 640 b.c. about 40 years later, the concept spread to ancient greece, where coins often featured an owl-- the symbol of the goddess athena.

Around 500 b.c., the chinese invented coins made of cheap metals like copper, instead of gold and silver.

Today's currency coins are still made of copper, nickel, and other inexpensive materials.

The mint manufactures collector coins using sterling silver as well as sterling scraps left over from making other coins.

The silver goes into a casting furnace at 2,100 degrees fahrenheit.

The melted silver is cast into a continuous bar about 1 1/2 inches high by 5 inches wide.

A machine cuts the continuous bar into individual bars about 30 inches long.

Each bar goes into what's called the roughing mill.

The mill's two rollers squash the bar flat, using up to 9 tons of force.

It takes up to a dozen passes to flatten the bar into a strip just half an inch thick.

A machine called the finishing mill thins the strip out even more to what will be the final thickness of the coin, anywhere from 3/100ths of an inch to 2/10ths of an inch, depending on the denomination.

Next, the blanking machine stamps out blank coins.

The silver that's left over, called sisel, goes back into the casting furnace, where it's melted down into fresh bars of silver.

The next stop for the blanks is the rimming machine, whose spinning wheel presses a raised edge, or rim, on each one.

The blanks then go into a tub filled with water, cleaning solutions, and steel beads.

The beads act as an abrasive agent, smoothing and polishing the blanks.

After a 20-minute cycle, they empty the tub's contents into a sifter to separate the blanks from the beads.

Workers then towel dry the blanks by hand.

This ensures there will be no water stains on the coins.

Throughout the coin-making process, as the silver is worked, it becomes brittle-- so brittle that it could easily break when struck.

That's why at several stages the metal goes through an oven called an annealing furnace.

The coin design comprises artwork or a photograph or a combination of both.

This coin will feature a photograph of queen elizabeth provided by buckingham palace.

The artist uses a computer program to design a collage of various elements.

Once mint officials approve the final design, the process of engraving can begin.

They take a plaster disk that's 10 1/2 inches in diameter.

The computer guides the engraving machine to turn the one-dimensional computer design into a three-dimensional version in rough detail.

This creates a plaster model of the design in the negative.

They now use this negative to cast a plaster positive.

An artist then enhances the detail by hand.

Once that's done, they cast a negative plaster mold.

From that, they then cast a positive mold, this time in rubber.

From the rubber, they cast a negative mold out of hard, black epoxy.

They mount the epoxy model on a machine called a pantograph, which is essentially a reducing machine.

It traces the model and cuts a version 1 1/2 times smaller in brass.

This reduction process takes 36 hours.

Then an engraver takes the brass model and fine-tunes the design under a microscope.

At this stage, the engraver also adds the lettering, noting the year, the denomination, and the country of issue.

Then comes another 36-hour reduction process.

They reduce this brass model to 1 1/2 half times its size to create what's called a matrix-- a negative model made of high-grade steel that's the final size of the coin.

Then they strike the matrix onto a block of steel which creates a positive called a punch.

Then they strike the punch onto another steel block to create a negative called a die.

The coins are made one at a time in the coin press.

There are two dies per coin, one for each side, positioned above and below the blank.

They strike simultaneously, not once but twice, to create a high-quality impression.

In contrast, circulation coins are struck just once on high-speed machines that make several hundred coins per minute.


Bicycle Helmets
Aluminum
Car Brakes
Lithium Batteries

Today on "how it's made"...

Bicycle helmets-- letting safety go to your head...

Aluminum-- probably the most versatile metal around...

Car brakes--  we bring you breaking news about how they're manufactured...

And lithium batteries-- you'll get a charge out of this one.

If you're serious about bike-riding, you should also be serious about safety, and it all starts with your head.

Today's bike helmets meet all the required safety standards and come in a wide range of colors and styles, which means you can protect your head and look great doing it.

A bicycle helmet is constructed of an exterior shell and an interior one of polystyrene foam designed to absorb shocks.

Some designs for bicycle helmets are drawn by hand and with computer-aided graphics.

The design has to take into account that it is not on a flat surface, but on a rounded one.

This creates optical deformities that have to be corrected.

Fabrication begins with the exterior shell.

This polymer sheet is heated in a heat former at a temperature of 65 degrees centigrade.

The mold lifts the sheet and suctions it to fill all the cavities of the mold.

This operation lasts about one minute and produces four shells.

Then, when cooled down and hardened, the four shells are cut by hand.

Ventilation openings are cut with a heated wire apparatus.

These openings have been preformed during molding of the shell.

The heated wire easily and neatly cuts the polymer.

Next up, trimming the helmet to eliminate excess polymer.

The circumference is manually cut using a router.

The edges are then sanded to even them.

It is also possible to cut the circumference of the shell with a heated wire.

This operation takes more time, but is more precise because of the resulting cleaner cut.

Now they're going to fabricate the foam interior that will be placed inside the shell.

It's made of polystyrene beads that will expand and bond together.

This expander increases the volume of the granules that fall into it.

Steam and an agitator let the polystyrene beads expand uniformly.

The granules are now ready.

The contents of this bin will be able to produce about 20 foam pieces, which will take shape on these molds.

The press closes up for the six minutes that it takes to mold four foam pieces.

The particles fuse with steam before being cooled with water.

The foam is removed from the mold.

Forms are produced for different helmets.

Fusing of the particles has welded the granules to one another.

Depending on the helmet model, openings have to be made with this heat iron to allow for installation of an air-vent accessory.

All that remains is to make the adjustment pads, cut with this press-powered stamper.

The adjustment pads are held in with velcro to allow easy adjustment of the helmet.

This allows the cyclist to change the foam pads for greater comfort.

Inserting the straps calls for good manual dexterity and takes only a minute.

The shell and the polystyrene foam liner have to be joined.

They're adjusted one inside the other, then solidly secured with adhesive tape.

The helmet is now completed.

And now it's ready for packaging.

The safety helmets have to be certified, guaranteeing their safety, and conformity tests are done.

At least one helmet in 500 will undergo this destructive test.

Here, it drops vertically onto a piece of steel.

This facility can produce up to 4,000 helmets daily in hundreds of models and over 500 variations.

Take a look around, and you'll find this wonder metal everywhere, in everything from screen doors to jet planes.

Aluminum has so many applications because it's light and strong, and it's corrosion- and crack-resistant.

Producing aluminum is costly, but it saves money over time.

Aluminum--  so widely used today, and the world's most abundant metallic element, does not occur in a natural state.

The most available source of aluminum is actually bauxite.

Bauxite is mainly mined in tropical countries.

The aluminum atom in bauxite is bonded to oxygen molecules.

These bonds have to be broken by electrolysis to produce pure aluminum.

Bauxite is carried by rail to the plant, where it will be crushed.

Then, through a chemical transformation called the bayer process, alumina is extracted.

This is then roasted in calciners to eliminate all moisture.

This is the reduction facility.

This plant has 432 pots through which a powerful electric current will be passed to produce electrolysis.

An overhead crane dumps alumina into the pots.

Then the electric current from the anode passes through the alumina that we see here at the bottom of the pot.

Via the process of alumina reduction at 1,742 degrees, the anodes lose volume and will have to be replaced.

It's a continuous operation.

Each anode has a life-span of about 20 days.

Spent anodes are recovered from the pot with this overhead crane and carried off to be recycled.

They clean the aluminum rods, which will then be reused.

Here we see the crust formed atop the anode.

When the anodes are replaced, the accumulated impurities have to be recovered from the top of the pots.

This is accomplished with these pincers.

Then a new anode is inserted into the alumina, and electrolysis continues.

The electric current breaks the molecular bonds.

The heavier aluminum collects at the bottom of the pot, while the oxygen bound to fluorine is released as a gas, which is drawn off and treated.

The liquefied aluminum remains at the bottom of the pot.

It has to be recovered in this huge crucible with a tube.

The tube is dipped into the bottom of the pot, and a vacuum system draws the molten aluminum from the crucible.

The aluminum is recovered in a short time.

Air is vacuumed from the crucible by a flexible pipe held by an operator.

The tube is finally withdrawn, and the overhead crane dumps another quantity of alumina into the pot.

Thus, the aluminum-fabrication process continues uninterrupted.

The crucibles filled with molten aluminum are transported to the casting house.

Their contents are poured into holding furnaces, that have a capacity of 60 tons.

In these very hot furnaces, the molten aluminum is stored to await casting.

Finally, casting begins.

The aluminum can be semicontinuously vertically cast, producing ingots, sheets, or billets, or it can be directly cast into semifinished products.

The cooling of aluminum pieces is accelerated by water sprays.

The large, rectangular ingots, which can weigh up to 25 tons, will head for hot-rolling, and eventually will be fabricated into products like aluminum foil.

From four to five tons of bauxite have produced two tons of alumina, which in turn produces one ton of aluminum.

This particular plant produces 200,000 tons of aluminum annually.

Some other facilities can turn out as much as 400,000 tons.

If you've ever had to stop suddenly while driving at high speed, you know that once you hit the brakes, they can easily lock up, making you skid.

But with the sophisticated computer technology behind today's antilock brakes, skidding is becoming a thing of the past.

Brakes are absolutely essential equipment for every vehicle to slow down and stop.

And brakes have remained practically unchanged for the past 40 years.

Conventional disk brakes have pads that press against the brake disk attached to the wheel.

These pads grip the disk on only 15 to 30 degrees of its circumference.

This develops high heat, wheel skidding, and results in premature wear.

The new floating disk brakes have two pads of friction material on 360 degrees of the disk.

When the brake is applied, hydraulic pressure activates the diaphragm, which applies pressure on the inboard pad, which is then pressed against the disk.

In this animation, the diaphragm movement is exaggerated.

However simple, the design of this brake calls for some complex development steps.

It all starts on the monitor screen with computer-aided design.

This powerful software creates objects in three dimensions, which can be virtually manipulated.

They then proceed to digital analysis.

Here, digital models are submitted to repeated braking to verify that the parts conform to design objectives.

The software verifies changes in heat, the effects of vibration, and resistance to breakage.

The right choice of materials is critical.

The electrical components also have to be created.

Here, we see the delicate construction of tiny sensors, that measure the force exerted by the braking system.

The sensor is the main component of the intelligent a.b.s. braking system, which functions more efficiently than traditional antiskid systems and reduces braking distance.

Next, it's the fabrication stage of prototype parts, which will be tested.

The machining of these parts must take into account the requirements of mass production.

This high-precision, robotized machining is done by computer-controlled digital machines.

A liquid sprinkled on the machine part cools it during the process.

The finished parts are precisely measured, then fitted and assembled to form the total braking system, which will be first tested in the laboratory.

Brakes in full contact have a friction surface six times superior to traditional brakes.

The use of aluminum and composite materials allow for a weight savings of 5.5 pounds per wheel.

This affects roadholding and reduces fuel consumption by .

05 gallons per 100 miles.

They proceed to power and endurance tests on this dynamometer, in which a brake and wheel assembly act against a large rotating drum.

These lab tests are critical, since they can detect any defect in a braking system before it's installed on an actual vehicle.

In order to evaluate the power and endurance of the brakes in full application under extreme conditions, they were installed on this porsche 911 turbo entered in the motorola cup.

They proved completely satisfactory, and the porsche went on to record many wins.

Once all validation tests are done, we move on to the next step.

Brakes are installed on a production-model vehicle.

With data systems, engineers can observe the performance of brakes under all conditions thousands of times a second.

Finally, engineers proceed with actual braking trials with test vehicles.

All that remains is to produce brakes on a large scale to supply auto manufacturers' production lines.

And that's the story of brakes, from original idea to final product.

There's nothing like the sound of a car engine starting, especially when it's 15 below on a winter morning.

Today's automotive batteries are smaller, more powerful, and more efficient, even at extreme temperatures.

It's all thanks to the power of lithium-ion-cell technology.

While dissecting a frog in 1786, the italian researcher galvani noted that when his scalpel touched a leg muscle, it contracted from an electric current produced.

Later, volta believed the current was produced by the metal instruments, the animal being only a conductor.

To prove it, he stacked disks of zinc and copper connected by conductors and fabric impregnated with an acid solution.

And so, in 1800, the electric battery was born.

Batteries power all kinds of electric motors.

A new lithium-metal-polymer battery pack such as this one could soon power an electric automobile, as well as a hybrid vehicle.

This battery will be made up of four components.

It all starts with this lithium ingot, which weighs about 11 pounds.

It's transformed into a thin sheet by this extrusion press that applies 440 tons of pressure.

The press creates a sheet that's only about 1/100 of an inch thick.

The whole extrusion sequence is closely computer-controlled.

Extrusion is now completed.

The metallic lithium sheet is the required 1/100 inch in thickness, or 1/4 of a millimeter.

The sheet has to be further thinned.

Placed on a roller, it is carried to the laminator.

At room temperature, it's thinned once again.

In just 20 minutes, the 11-pound ingot will have been transformed into a thin sheet .

01 inches wide and some 655 feet in length.

This laminator completes the thinning of the sheet.

The resulting 1 1/4 mile-long sheet will allow for the fabrication of 210 battery units.

Lithium is a soft, sticky metal.

For this reason, a polypropylene film has to be fixed onto the lithium sheet.

Without this protection, the sheet would adhere to itself and become unusable.

The sheet will be used to make individual battery cells.

Then these cells will be assembled, in series and in parallel, and inserted into modules of different shapes.

To make an individual battery cell, the sheet has to be rolled up.

This automated spooling machine winds up the lithium film in 26 revolutions.

The wound-up sheet is put into a vacuum oven, where the various layers adhere firmly to one another.

This step lasts for about 90 minutes at 176 degrees.

Here, a test is made.

Using a voltmeter, the battery is checked to see that it produces the required 3.56 volts.

Any problem can be detected here and corrected.

A final quality check is made with this caliper.

It precisely measures the thickness of the battery cell.

The battery cells are then stored.

Metallic plates are placed between them for the entire storage period.

One more step remains, and that's the metallizing of the contacts.

The battery cells are sent off to a fabrication facility in this container.

The container is robotically handled.

First, it's put into a protective tank.

Then the metallizing of the contacts is done by spraying on molten metal.

This takes just a few seconds, since the metal cools very quickly.

The battery is now finished.

It comprises four elements-- lithium, which acts as the anode, a metallic oxide cathode, a dry solid polymer electrolyte, and a metallic current collector.

All that remains to be done is the assembling of the individual battery cells into a module.

It begins with the placing of individual cells onto one another and isolating them with foam so that they do not touch each other.

These red sheets are actually heating elements, since the lithium-metal-polymer cells function at temperatures of between 104 and 176 degrees.

Here, we see these modules of a battery pack for a hybrid vehicle, an automobile that works with a gasoline-powered motor and an electric motor.

This prototype battery was created for a totally electric vehicle.

It surpasses heavy traditional lead-acid batteries that can't develop the same amount of electrical energy and have much shorter life-spans.


Rawhide Lampshades
Chocolate Chip Cookies
MRI Scanners

You doesn't need to have antlers over the fireplace to bring a touch of wildlife to your decor.

A more subtle approach can be a lamp with a shade made of rawhide.

Rawhide is untanned animal skin.

The hide typically comes from livestock, so you get the decorative "bang" without firing a shot.

You typically see rawhide lampshades in rustic settings, but they've also been known to add an eclectic twist to a modern decor.

This company has been using the same techniques to hand-craft rawhide lampshades since 1929.

The first step is to construct the shade's frame out of 3-millimeter-thick steel wire.

They begin by cutting the various lengths of wire to make the component's first shade of a particular size.

Every frame has one top ring, one bottom ring, and several vertical ribs connecting the two.

After clamping the wires alongside a measuring gauge, they position the blade where required and cut.

They curve the pieces for the rings with crank-operated rollers, which apply pressure to bend the wire.

It takes a few passes to work the steel wire into a full circle.

Then they spot-weld the ends together to complete each ring.

They cool the hot weld in cold water.

Now it's time to assemble the frame.

They use a jig to correctly position all the parts.

This one is for a slanted shade with an 18-inch bottom diameter.

After laying in the bottom ring, they position one rib at a time and spot-weld it to the ring.

They assemble the spider-- the inner structure of the top ring.

They take a brass washer with four holes in it and insert a steel wire arm into each one.

A single strike of a 1-ton press locks each arm in the washer.

They spot-weld the spider to the top ring...

Then the ring to each rib of the frame.

The frame is now fully constructed and ready to be coated with baked-on paint.

This not only makes the frame more attractive, it prevents the steel from rusting as it comes in contact with the wet rawhide.

The freshly-washed sheepskin is the highest grade of hide available, so the color is an even butterscotch-- rarely any color variations or spots.

They center the frame upside-down on the skin, then work their way around, folding the skin upward and over, clamping it in place with clothespins.

Then, they flip the shade right side up and slit the skin at the top with a razor blade to release some tension.

Now they sew the skin to the top and bottom of the frame with rawhide lace.

However, this rawhide is cow skin.

Once the sewing is complete, they cut off the excess skin.

The rawhide is still quite wet, so they dry the lampshade in a heated closet for about five hours.

When it comes out, they bathe the rawhide in a moisturizing agent then a finishing solution, the specifics of which are a closely-guarded company secret.

These treatments bring out the butterscotch color and seal the hide to prevent it from drying out and cracking.

The lampshade then goes back into the heated closet for 24 hours.

Lampshades are often hands-painted before this, in which case the finishing solution seals the oil paint as well as the hide.

Each design is original and signed by the artist-- a unique work of art designed to light up a room.

Legend has it that chocolate-chip cookies were invented in 1930 by an american innkeeper who ran out of baker's chocolate.

She improved by breaking a semi-sweet chocolate bar into small pieces.

Instead of melting, the chocolate merely softened, dotting the cookie with chocolate chips.

They look homemade, and they taste homemade, but this home is a factory.

Each ingredient goes into an industrial-size mixer, starting with white sugar.

Then brown sugar.

Then butter.

The mixer thoroughly blends these first ingredients until the butter becomes soft and creamy and the sugars are evenly dispersed.

Then it's time for the headliner-- chocolate chips.

They're semi-sweet, which is a mixture of bitter and sweet chocolate.

Next, flour, followed by baking soda to make the dough rise and salt to add flavor.

The final ingredients are whole eggs, beaten, combined with vanilla, made from beans harvested in madagascar, africa.

Mixing resume until everything's well-blended, which usually takes about five minutes.

The company closely guards recipe specifics, but if you're curious, you could probably figure them out by multiplying the ingredients of a home recipe to the yield of a production batch.

Workers transfer the cookie dough to a machine called the former.

It pushes the dough through round dies, producing row upon row of round pieces weighing 1.4 ounces each, one of several sizes the factory produces.

The factory then flash-freezes the dough rounds for sale to food-service customers such as restaurants and hotels, which bake the cookies in their own kitchens.

The freeze tunnel uses liquid nitrogen to create the frigid temperature.

The passing dough rounds solidify in approximately five minutes.

Exiting the freeze tunnel, the dough rounds pass under a metal detector to ensure they don't contain any metal particles.

This safety measure is standard practice in the food industry.

The packaging system is entirely automated.

The first station erects the box.

The second station lines it with plastic.

A conveyer belt, meanwhile, feeds the frozen, unbaked cookies onto automated scales.

Once a scale hits the per-box weight, feeding pauses.

The bottom swings open, and the cookies drop into the box awaiting directly underneath.

The next stations seal and label the boxes, which workers then load onto pallets.

The pallets go into a storage freezer, where they stay until it's time to ship them out, by freezer truck, to the customer.

This company also sells gift tins of cookies online and by catalog.

For that market, they bake the cookies in-house.

Workers lay out the dough rounds 2 inches apart on trays lined with parchment paper.

This prevents sticking, making it easy to remove the baked cookies without breaking them.

The dough rounds are nearly 1½ inches wide by 1 inch high.

As they bake, they flatten out and double in diameter.

The trays remain in the oven for seven minutes at 300 degrees fahrenheit.

A turntable inside rotates them so that the cookies bake evenly throughout the tray.

A few cookies per batch go to the quality control tester, who, unfortunately, doesn't get to conduct the assessment by eating the samples.

Rather, the tester measures the diameter and height to ensure consistency in size and chip content.

In the online and catalogue order assembly area, workers line the bottom part of the gift tin with a decorative cellophane bag.

Then, they carefully layer the correct number of fresh cookies inside in a staggered configuration.

This not only creates a nice presentation, it also prevents damage in transit.

They close the bag with a gold twist tie to seal in the freshness...

Close up the tin, then pack it for shipping.

This is how to give a gift of homemade chocolate chip cookies without ever setting foot in the kitchen.

The mri scanner was invented in 1977, and it has revolutionized medical diagnostics.

Short for magnetic resonance imaging, an mri offers an inside look at the human body without surgery or x-rays.

When investigation health problems, it's a great way to get the picture.

Using magnetic fields and radio-wave pulses, an mri can look right through you to determine what's going on under the skin.

The magnet is incredibly powerful.

It's up to 30,000 times stronger than the earth's magnetic field.

To make an mri scanner, they weld aluminum casing around the magnet, creating a tunnel in the center for the patient.

The seams must be extremely tight because the tube will also contain the super-cold liquid helium which will make the magnet so incredibly powerful.

Once the welds are complete, they cap the magnet and transfer it to a test chamber.

They pump helium gas into the tube and activate a vacuum system that sucks out the air in the chamber.

A sensor confirms there are no leaks and the welds are tight.

They now construct a second aluminum tube around the magnet.

This will act as an insulating shield.

They wrap and aluminized mylar blanket tightly around the magnet.

Aluminized mylar was first developed as an insulating material for space suits.

In this case, it will be used to deflect heat to keep the magnet cold.

They now insert the magnet into a steel shell.

This is know as the vacuum vessel.

The air will be pulled from the space between it and the magnet, creating a vacuum which will serve as another insulator.

They mask the mri tunnel with plastic and spray paint the exterior white.

The paint will protect the steel from rust.

Next, they install a refrigeration unit knows as the cold head.

The cold head will maintain the helium around the mri's primary magnet at the incredibly chilly temperature of -452 degrees fahrenheit.

This will keep the helium in a liquid state.

Without the cold head, significant amounts would vaporize and be lost.

They now pump the liquid helium into the magnet.

It's one of the coldest things on the planet, and the fill nozzles turn frosty.

Exposed to this extreme cold, the magnet loses all electrical resistance and becomes a super conductor, generating intense magnetic fields.

With the mri magnet complete, they move on to the gradient coil, which will control the orientation of the image with electrical pulses.

It starts with a fiberglass epoxy tube cut to the correct length.

A worker carves grooves in the tube and fills those grooves with epoxy.

He then winds copper wire into the epoxy-filled grooves, and it adheres, forming the gradient coil.

The team slathers epoxy onto the entire tube.

The epoxy seals the wire, preventing vibrations of the coil when it's in operation.

They layer etched copper plates onto the epoxy, and they adhere.

They wrap the coil tightly with teflon cloth.

A worker pours epoxy resin onto the fabric.

He then winds tubing around the gradient coil, which adheres to the epoxy-coated cloth.

These are cooling lines.

They'll disperse heat generated by the gradient coil.

Another worker now preps the next fiberglass tube.

This one is for the mri's radio-frequency coil.

There's much more to come before this mri scanner is ready to provide an inside look at the human body, so stay tuned.

An mri scanner produces detailed images of bones, organs, and other structures inside the human body.

It does this by generating a strong magnetic field that causes the body's hydrogen atoms to align and send a signal.

The result is a picture that could lead to a diagnosis.

Work on the mri's radio-frequency coil is under way.

A technician attaches plastic risers and pads to the fiberglass core.

The risers and pads will hold the circuitry parts at a uniform level.

She applies adhesive-backed strips of copper from one band of risers to the other.

These copper strips are the antenna.

They'll send and receive signals from the body and relay them to a computer to produce the mri image.

She presses the copper with round-tipped tool for better adhesion to the core.

She then dabs epoxy glue into the riser compartments.

She inserts capacitors into the glue-filled compartments.

These little capacitors will store energy and change the frequency of the coil to match the magnets.

The technician solders the ends of the capacitors to the copper antenna as she builds the circuitry.

She transfers numerous high-voltage inductor boards to the pads and screws them in place.

Next up are cable-splitter units.

Another technician installs one near an inductor board.

She routes some of the cables from the splitter to the several of the inductors.

And she solders the cables to the inductors.

She places a plastic cable track on the side of the radio-frequency coil and snakes the main power cable through it.

She solders the cable to the antenna.

The technician stiffens the copper antenna with composite boards to dampen vibrations when the mri is in operation.

She applies epoxy around all the cables.

The epoxy secures the cables to keep them from moving around and making noise.

The mri's radio-frequency coil is complete and ready to be put to the test.

The next worker caps the ends with metal domes and bolts them tightly together.

She pumps highly pressurized air into the capped radio-frequency coil.

She spray soapy water over the exterior of the coil and looks for air bubbles.

Bubbles in the soapy residue would indicate a leak, which would disrupt airflow in the mri.

With the radio-frequency coil leak-free, they now slide it into the gradient coil, which has gained an outer fiberglass shell since we last saw it.

The worker connects exterior tubing to the network of cooling lines inside the gradient coil.

With those connections made, they're ready to assemble the coils to the magnet.

The worker slides the assembly off the cart and into the mri magnet.

He installs a bracket that centers the coils, maintaining a small gap between them and the magnet.

He equips the mri with microphones and speakers, to communicate with the patient.

There's also a signaling system here for the patient to activate in the event of an emergency.

Now for the ultimate test.

They energize the magnet and send standard test objects into the mri.

They scan the objects and confirm the picture is clear.

They add a metal and plastic outer casing.

This mri scanner is now ready to focus on diagnosis.

The next picture it takes could be a life saver.