This is starting to read like a spy novel. Ron, Keep writing. Dwayne KB5YTA
On Wed, Dec 29, 2021 at 10:09 AM k5hm.ron--- via BVARC <bvarc@bvarc.org> wrote: > *The Great Harvey Wells Caper* > > *Part 1 – The Pink Ticket* > > > > It was April in New York City. I was on my way home from the regular > weekly breakfast with the Queens County Bagel, Bowling and Spark Club. > > > > These were the halcyon days of kid-dom on the cusp of adulthood. I had my > General Class ticket now for about two years. Got my acceptance letter > from college and it was six months before anybody would hear of Sputnik. > Life was good. > > > > As I walked home from the bus stop, I was thinking about getting on the > air today and rolling up a few new states for my WAS. I needed South > Dakota and my old buddy Ralph from the QCBB&SC said there were only three > active hams in the whole state. I could see that South Dakota was going to > be a real challenge. > > > > I climbed the front steps two at a time, walked through the front door and > headed directly for my basement ham shack. I am halfway down the hall > when I hear my old man say, “Where are you going?” > > > > Any kid who has reached the age of five, immediately recognizes the peril > in that question. It’s not a question really, it more a combination of Red > Alert, General Quarters and Take Cover simultaneously. > > > > I turned around to see the old man advancing toward me. He was upset. I > tried to think of anything I did or failed to do in the last twenty-four > hours. I aced my Physics quiz, took out the trash last night, and didn’t > leave any wet towels in the bathroom, check, check, check. > > > > He was about two feet away when he stopped, thrust a letter in front of me > and said, “What’s this?” His hand was shaking so much, I couldn’t read the > envelope at first, but it looked very important. Eventually, the > oscillation decayed enough for me to see better. It was one of those > business window envelopes with no stamp. The top right-hand corner of the > envelope contained the words, *U.S. Government Official Business!* > > > > The old man was really wound up; like a pressure cooker ready to explode. > He’d lived his life avoiding entanglements with authority. He was 4-F for > the draft in WWII, voted at least once in every election and was an > associate member of the Police Benevolent Association. Any unexpected > things that had to do with “Official Business” made him very nervous. > > > > Desperately, I tried to think of something that would get him in such a > lather. I had gotten my draft card six weeks ago. Maybe this was the > dreaded, “Greetings from Uncle Sam” letter. Then I noticed the return > address, *Federal Communications Commission, Washington, DC.* > > > > I stopped breathing. The FCC! This was worse than getting drafted. > Looking through the window of the envelope I could see the paper inside. A > pink ticket! > > > > The envelope was torn open. At the top of the page, I could see the > words, *Notice of Violation!* He’d already read it and assumed the > worst; a life sentence for me at Leavenworth. I was doomed! > > > > Flight was the only response I had. I grabbed the letter and ran for the > basement. I read and re-read the notice several times. Cold sweat was > dripping off me. > > > > The letter said that my signal had been observed operating at a frequency > out of the band at such and such time and date. It demanded I explain what > happened. That I take immediate steps to prevent this from happening in > the future and that I report those steps to the FCC within 30 days. No > wonder the old man was upset. Single handedly, I had brought the wrath of > the entire federal government down on our home. > > > > I pulled out my log and started flipping pages; hoping this was a > mistake. Some other guy with a similar call sign, maybe. The time in the > letter was around 2 AM. Was the FCC really awake that late? > > > > I ran my thumb down the logbook pages slowly, hoping against hope. Yikes! > There it was. At the alleged hour, I had been on the air. What could I > do? “The old man was right, you’re going to Leavenworth “, said the voice > in my head. > > > > That night I’d logged several calls to DX stations who were calling CQ on > the other side of the 20-meter band edge. The last entry in the log that > night was a guy in VK-land that I had finally managed to work. I was so > excited I almost woke the old man out of a sound sleep to tell him. I > must have strayed too close to the band edge! > > > > Maybe I’ll just throw myself on the mercy of the court. *“Your honor, > I’m just a kid. I didn’t know I was committing a crime.” “I fell in with > a bad crowd; they dared me to do it!”* > > > > In a panic, I called my old buddy Ralph on the land line. Ralph was a > charter member of the QCBB&SC. He knew everything about ham radio. He had > been a ham so long that he said Marconi was his Elmer. > > > > After an eternity of rings, he answered. Without giving him a chance to > say hello, I unloaded on Ralph in one single breath. When I finally > finished, Ralph calmed me down and assured me that I was not going to > Leavenworth. “Yeah kid (everyone was a kid to Ralph), I got my first pink > ticket in ’36”, he said softly, as if someone were listening. > > > > What a relief! My old buddy Ralph, the greatest Elmer of all time had > gotten at least a couple pink tickets and he was still walking around a > free man. There was a ray of hope for me! > > > > I could swear he was grinning on the other side of the phone. The voice > in my head said, “Yeah, they’ll probably confiscate all your radio gear > instead.” > > > > It was only two years earlier that I went to the FCC offices in Manhattan > to take my General exam under the watchful eye of Lurch, the examiner. I > still remember the big bullpen where the FCC guys worked. They were all > dressed alike too; white shirts rolled up to the elbow, black ties and > black pants. It was the official FCC uniform. I didn’t know what would > be worse; just quietly going off to Leavenworth or having a squad of FCC > men in black show up at my house in front of all the neighbors! > > > > “Listen kid”, he began; his voice had a way of piercing through the QRM in > my head. “You just need an accurate marker for the band edge. A crystal > calibrator. You can pick one up at Harrison Radio for about ten bucks.” I > could hear Ralph take a deep breath. He’d been a chain smoker for twenty > years, so his inhale had a signature wheeze, just like a good CW operator’s > fist. > > > > Then he continued, “The dial markings on your VFO ain’t worth the plastic > they’re printed on kid. So, when you are chasing DX, don’t get any closer > than three kc to the band edge marker, no matter what.” > > > > “Hey Ralph”, I said “What about the letter I have to write? What should I > say?” Ralph started in again, “Listen kid, just tell them the truth, you’ll > be fine. See you later kid.” And then there was a click. > > > > I sat for a long time; thinking. The U.S. phone band ended at 14200 KC. > Most of the good DX was always just below that. We worked split back then, > running full carrier double sideband AM, pushing as close to the band edge > as we dared, calling for that rare station we needed. > > > > I wasn’t willing to give up a whole three kc of band, if I didn’t need to > do it. Maybe I could just turn down the mike gain. Just listening to > twenty meters some nights it was easy to see how everybody pushed the > limit. Still, I was willing to do or say anything get back in the old > man’s good graces and the FCC off my back! Finally, the beginnings of a > diabolical plan began to form in my head. If I played my cards right, I > would solve my FCC problem and then some. > > > > > > To be continued > > > > *Reporting from the Dark Side,* > > *Ron Litt, K5HM* > > > > > > > > 73, > > Ron, K5HM > > k5hm....@gmail.com > > www.qrz.com/db/k5hm > > [image: ARRL Logo][image: logo (2)][image: smaller Prize] > > * Excelsior!* > > > ________________________________________________ > Brazos Valley Amateur Radio Club > > BVARC mailing list > BVARC@bvarc.org > http://mail.bvarc.org/mailman/listinfo/bvarc_bvarc.org > Publicly available archives are available here: > https://www.mail-archive.com/bvarc@bvarc.org/ >
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