
Cobra
Chicago — sixty-five years of CB heritage, now half of Cedar Electronics and pointed at the overlander, with a range claim that needs reading twice.

Kansas City since 1959 — the first CB manufacturer in America, now the GMRS and NOAA weather-radio name, with one old recall that shows exactly how a safety radio fails.
Midland Radio has been in Kansas City since 1959 and calls itself the first CB manufacturer in the United States; the catalog now runs from CB through FRS and GMRS handhelds, business radios and NOAA weather receivers. Two things make it worth a page. The weather-radio side is alerting hardware, which fails in a way no other gear does — silently — and CPSC has one documented instance of exactly that. And the advertised range on its flagship handheld is a terrain-qualified five miles, where much of this category prints a two-digit number instead.
Midland Radio has been in Kansas City since 1959, and its own about page makes the claim you would expect of a company that old in this business: Midland “is known as the first CB manufacturer in the United States, getting its start in 1959.” The catalog now runs from CB through FRS and GMRS handhelds, MicroMobile dash sets, business radios and NOAA weather receivers.
The weather receivers are why this page opens where it does.
CPSC recall 00-007a covers about 9,000 Midland weather radios, model 74-200, with serial numbers beginning 904 or 905. The hazard, in CPSC’s words: “The radio contains a programming error, which can cause the device to fail to recognize certain signals broadcast by the National Weather Service.” No injuries were reported. The remedy was a correctly programmed replacement.
The notice is old — CPSC lists a recall date of 16 November 2004, under a recall number that suggests an earlier action, archived under 2005. We’re not going to pretend the vintage is cleaner than the regulator’s own filing.
What it illustrates is not old at all. Most gear tells you when it has failed. A dead flashlight is obvious in the first second. An alerting device that mis-programs looks exactly like a working one, sits on the shelf with a light on, and says nothing on the night it should have shouted. Silence is indistinguishable from no alert issued. That asymmetry is the whole reason a weather receiver deserves a periodic check against a known test transmission rather than the benefit of the doubt.
The current flagship handheld, the GXT67 Pro, is a 5-watt GMRS radio — GMRS requires an FCC license — rated IP67, with up to 99 GMRS/FRS channels including 8 repeater channels, NOAA weather alert, and about four days of battery. Midland advertises its range as “up to 5 miles, depending on the terrain.”
Advertised radio range is a manufacturer best case, always. Every one of these numbers is line of sight with nothing in the way: no ridge, no timber, no building, no wet snow in the trees. Five miles is what restraint looks like in a category where a 2.5-watt handheld from Cobra advertises up to 36 miles, and where BCA publishes the best case and the terrain case side by side.
Origin isn’t published anywhere useful. Midland’s about page names Kansas City for headquarters and customer support; its page metadata reaches for “American-made CB radios” with nothing in the body behind it. No model-level country of manufacture appears. Headquarters is not a factory, and this page won’t treat it as one.
Everything regulatory is per model, not per brand. Power, channels, repeater access and license obligations belong to a specific model’s FCC grant. GMRS needs a license; FRS doesn’t; CB is its own regime. Read the model’s manual and grant, not the brand’s reputation.
The ownership chain is blank. Midland Radio Corporation reads as an operating company with no parent disclosed on any page we could reach. On a roster full of documented acquisition trails, an absence is worth naming.
One recall on the product that most needs to be trusted. It was resolved, it injured nobody, and it happened to the exact category where failure is invisible.
The house that wants a weather alert. A dedicated receiver still beats a phone notification that depends on a cell tower staying up.
Convoys, trail crews and job sites. GMRS handhelds and MicroMobile sets, with the license actually obtained.
Not for: the helm of a boat, where Icom and Standard Horizon build the marine-specific argument. Not for distress beyond the horizon — that is a beacon, and ACR is where that conversation starts. Not for anyone who needs to know where their radio was built.
Sixty-seven years on the same problem. Continuity in consumer electronics is rare enough to count as information.
The restrained range figure. Five miles, terrain-qualified, on the flagship. That’s a company choosing the defensible number over the advertisable one.
Weather is treated as a product line, not a checkbox. The NOAA receivers are their own catalog, which is what you want from the brand whose recall history proves it understands what happens when one is wrong.
A weather radio earns its shelf space on the nights nobody is listening. The one documented time a Midland didn’t, the record is public — which is the version of that story worth reading before you trust the box.
The nearest neighbors on the shelf — same categories first, same department after that.

Chicago — sixty-five years of CB heritage, now half of Cedar Electronics and pointed at the overlander, with a range claim that needs reading twice.

Boulder, Colorado — the beacon, the airbag and the group radio from one house, with two life-safety recalls on the public record and both worth reading.

Hayward, California — the company that sells both a plastic sextant and a professional weather station, which tells you exactly what kind of company it is.

Pembroke, Massachusetts — Edward Ritchie started building America's first domestically made marine compass in 1850, and the Sherman family has run the company for three generations since.