I've always had a soft spot for a fee and stemwedel airguide barometer because they remind me of a time when people checked their walls, not their smartphones, to see if a storm was rolling in. There's just something incredibly satisfying about watching a physical needle tremble over a piece of parchment or a polished brass plate. You don't have to worry about a dead battery or a Wi-Fi signal dropping out; it's just you, a vacuum-sealed metal box, and the weight of the atmosphere doing its thing.
If you've ever spent time poking around antique shops or scavenging through an estate sale, you've probably seen these things. They usually come in these gorgeous wood or Bakelite housings, often flanked by a thermometer and a hygrometer. They look like they belong in a smoky 1940s office or a cozy mid-century living room. But for a lot of people, they're more than just "old junk"—they are a window into a specific era of American manufacturing and design.
Where the Name Comes From
Before they were just "Airguide," the company was the brainchild of two guys in Chicago: Richard Fee and Albert Stemwedel. They started the business back in 1930, right in the middle of the Great Depression, which is a pretty gutsy time to start making precision instruments. Back then, they went by the name Fee and Stemwedel, Inc., and their focus was on creating affordable, reliable weather instruments for the average home.
Eventually, the brand name "Airguide" became so recognizable that they changed the company name to the Airguide Instrument Company in the mid-50s. But if you find a piece that actually says "Fee and Stemwedel" on the dial, you've found one of the earlier models. Collectors usually hunt for those because they represent the original vision of the founders. It's that dual-branding that tells you the piece has some real history behind it.
The Aesthetic Appeal of Mid-Century Weather Gear
The thing that really draws me to a fee and stemwedel airguide barometer is the design language. They didn't just make tools; they made furniture for your wall. In the 30s and 40s, you saw a lot of Art Deco influences—sharp lines, geometric shapes, and that classic "industrial but elegant" look. By the time the 50s rolled around, they leaned into the Mid-Century Modern vibe with blonde wood, gold-painted accents, and sleeker profiles.
I've seen some models that look like they were pulled straight off the bridge of a navy ship, with heavy brass casings and bold, black lettering. Others are meant for a mantle, encased in mahogany with delicate glass covers. It's funny how we've traded these tactile, beautiful objects for a little blue icon on a screen. When you look at one of these old barometers, you aren't just checking the pressure; you're looking at a piece of craftsmanship that was meant to last for decades.
How These Things Actually Work
It's easy to look at a barometer and think it's some kind of magic, but the tech inside is actually pretty straightforward. Most of the Fee and Stemwedel models are "aneroid" barometers. That's just a fancy way of saying "without liquid." Unlike the old-school mercury barometers that were basically giant glass tubes of poison, these use a small, flexible metal box called an aneroid cell.
The air inside that cell has been sucked out to create a vacuum. When the outside air pressure rises, it squashes the box a little bit. When the pressure drops, the box expands. A series of tiny springs and levers connects that box to the needle on the face of the dial. It's a purely mechanical process. It's honestly impressive how much engineering went into making sure those tiny movements translated into an accurate reading on the dial.
One thing I always tell people is that the needle itself doesn't tell you the whole story. You'll notice there's usually a second needle, often made of brass or a different color, that you can move by hand using a knob in the center of the glass. That's your "set" needle. You align it with the current pressure, and then you check back a few hours later. If the black needle has moved away from your set needle, you know if the pressure is rising or falling. That movement—the "trend"—is what actually tells you if the weather is going to get nasty.
Getting a Vintage Barometer Back in Shape
If you pick up a fee and stemwedel airguide barometer at a thrift store, there's a good chance it's not reading correctly. Don't panic; it's probably not broken. These things usually just need a little calibration to account for your specific elevation. Pressure at sea level is way different than pressure in the mountains, so the barometer needs to be told where it is.
There's usually a small screw on the back of the case. All you have to do is look up the current barometric pressure for your local area (you can just check a weather app for this) and slowly turn that screw until the needle matches the reading. I usually suggest giving the glass a gentle tap after you turn the screw, just to help the mechanical parts settle into place. It's a very "analog" experience, and there's something quite meditative about getting it perfectly dialed in.
Occasionally, the internal mechanism might be "sticky" from years of sitting in a dusty attic. Sometimes a light puff of air or a very tiny drop of specialized clock oil on the pivot points can bring it back to life. But honestly, most of the time, they just need that simple calibration screw adjustment.
Why Collect These Today?
You might wonder why anyone would bother with a fee and stemwedel airguide barometer in the age of hyper-accurate digital forecasts and satellite imagery. For me, it's about the connection to the physical world. There's a certain disconnect when you look at a digital weather report. But when you see that needle physically drop because the air around your house is literally getting "lighter" before a storm, it feels more real.
Plus, they are just cool pieces of Americana. Fee and Stemwedel were part of that wave of American companies that really cared about the "everyman" consumer. They wanted to provide high-quality instruments that looked great but didn't cost a fortune. Today, they are relatively affordable to collect. You can often find a beautiful, working unit for under fifty bucks if you're patient.
They also make for a great conversation starter. When guests come over and see a vintage Airguide on the wall, they almost always want to tap the glass and see if the needle moves. It's an interactive piece of history. Unlike a plastic weather station from a big-box store, these have a soul. They have weight, they have history, and they have a style that just doesn't go out of fashion.
Finding the Right One for Your Space
If you're looking to start a collection or just want one for your home, I'd suggest looking for the "pennant" or "nautical" styles if you like a more rugged look. If you're into the classic "Mad Men" aesthetic, look for the models that use dark woods like walnut or mahogany paired with brass.
The fee and stemwedel airguide barometer models with the "weather bureau" style faces are particularly cool. They often have detailed text explaining what the different pressure levels mean—things like "Fair," "Change," or "Stormy." While those labels are a bit of a generalization, they add a lot of character to the dial.
At the end of the day, whether you're a serious collector or just someone who appreciates good design, these barometers are a fantastic way to bring a little bit of the past into the present. They remind us to slow down, look at the wall, and maybe—just maybe—tap the glass to see what the sky has in store for us. It's a simple pleasure, but in a world that's constantly moving, those simple pleasures are usually the ones worth keeping around.