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| Heinrich Rudolph Hertz |
At the end of a long hallway, near the many electrical engineering labs found within Michigan State University's College of Engineering, there existed an small and mysterious room. Every so often, I would pass by that alluring chamber when the door was slightly ajar and I would sneak a cautioned peek inside that often darkened space. Behind that heavy wooden door, was an enigmatic realm filled with the warm glow of CRTs, LEDs, vacuum tubes, and the strangely comforting smell of warm electronics.
Strangers and fellow classmates sometimes speculated that this room was the home of the MSU Amateur Radio Club. Of course, I had to find out what was going on in there and it turned out that the speculations were correct! This room was, indeed, the home of MSU's very own Amateur Radio Club.
Strangers and fellow classmates sometimes speculated that this room was the home of the MSU Amateur Radio Club. Of course, I had to find out what was going on in there and it turned out that the speculations were correct! This room was, indeed, the home of MSU's very own Amateur Radio Club.
The Michigan State University Amateur Radio Club (MSUARC) was founded in 1919 and is one of the oldest university clubs in the United States of America. ► Follow MSUARC on Twitter
The sounds emanating from that mysterious domain were reminiscent of the Apollo space program and the activities of that endeavor were the backdrop of my childhood. Though the voices spoke of things about which I did not understand, they reminded me fondly of many childhood experiences.
My father was an outdoors man, hunter, and avid "off road vehicle" (ORV) enthusiast. Over the years, his adventures necessitated the installation and use of a series of citizen's band (CB) radios. He and his fellow sportsman spent many hours perfecting their radio installations so they could get the clearest and strongest signal possible. Antenna and feed line length, their placement, and their quality were of utmost importance. Field strength meters were often utilized to optimize antenna lengths to match the precise frequency of the channel that was most used by my father's group of like-minded individuals.
The crackling sounds drifting from the depths of that arcane space in the halls of the Engineering building reached deep into my psyche and evoked memories that were not limited to the memories of my father. My maternal grandfather was a long-haul truck driver and, of course, this meant that he was also a seasoned installer and user of citizen band radio equipment. However, the deepest memories being reflected upon here were driven by the many evenings my grandmother would spend at home, by herself, while Grandpa was out on the road.
As a measure of comfort, my grandfather installed a small collection of police scanners around the house (living room, kitchen, and bedroom) so that my grandmother could listen in on the activities of police and emergency responders local to her area. Peace of mind was gained in knowing that Grandma might be able to learn of potential dangers from extreme weather or the activity of criminals before any trouble arrived at her home.
Hearing the short bursts of concise communications and the sound of abbreviated language coming from that small room in the Electrical Engineering building brought back visions of staying up late drinking root beer, eating oatmeal cookies, and following the staccato drama crackling through granny's many scanners.
At this point, the reader might be thinking that I was driven to enter the mysterious room at the end of the hall in the Engineering building. It would seem natural that my warm memories and the curiosity of it all would drive me to ask if I could take part in whatever was going on in that room. Alas, this was not to be case for, at that time in my life, fear was my master. I could not bring myself to enter the room nor even knock on the door and ask for assistance. It is clear to me today just how unfortunate it was that I allowed this type of fear to grip me so deeply. I now know that the people behind that door would have welcomed my visit and would have encouraged me to join their worldwide fellowship of Radio Amateurs.
It would be many years before I found myself in front of a Volunteer Examiner Coordinator (VEC) and inquired about taking the FCC test and asking how to apply for my first Amateur Radio license. That story is probably worth a blog post of it's own. There is much on which to reflect when telling that part of the tale.
The short version of that story, of which at this time I will only briefly speak, is that while working as a computer programmer and IT support specialist, I felt my electronics knowledge was beginning to fade and I was seeking greater technical challenges. At that same time, my interest in hiking and biking brought me back to the world of CB, FRS/GMRS, and scanner radios. After some rather interesting adventures in the wilderness, carrying a handheld CB radio became a matter of safety. A radio is a tool for survival.
One day while messing around with a scanner, I came across some mysterious communications. At first I thought it was coded speech and, perhaps even, the work of some nefarious spy network! I laugh at the thought now. It wasn't long before I realized that the frequencies to which I was listening had been allocate to radio hams (Amateur Radio Operators). Those voices from long ago and far-away had returned to my ears.
Research showed that I would need to review and study a variety of electrical engineering concepts, learn some operating rules, locate a Volunteer Examiner Coordinator, and take a test in order to join the wide world of Amateur Radio. This sounded just like the kind of challenge for which I was looking! The rest is history and it is a story that will be told another day.
Amateur Radio has done a lot for me and I'm hoping that one day I will be able to put gratitude into action and return the favor! What can I do for Amateur Radio today?
Keep your tubes warm!
73,
KC7ZXY
Donald Watkins
► Twitter: @KC7ZXY
► Google+: +KC7ZXY
► YouTube: KC7ZXY Tube
As a measure of comfort, my grandfather installed a small collection of police scanners around the house (living room, kitchen, and bedroom) so that my grandmother could listen in on the activities of police and emergency responders local to her area. Peace of mind was gained in knowing that Grandma might be able to learn of potential dangers from extreme weather or the activity of criminals before any trouble arrived at her home.Hearing the short bursts of concise communications and the sound of abbreviated language coming from that small room in the Electrical Engineering building brought back visions of staying up late drinking root beer, eating oatmeal cookies, and following the staccato drama crackling through granny's many scanners.
At this point, the reader might be thinking that I was driven to enter the mysterious room at the end of the hall in the Engineering building. It would seem natural that my warm memories and the curiosity of it all would drive me to ask if I could take part in whatever was going on in that room. Alas, this was not to be case for, at that time in my life, fear was my master. I could not bring myself to enter the room nor even knock on the door and ask for assistance. It is clear to me today just how unfortunate it was that I allowed this type of fear to grip me so deeply. I now know that the people behind that door would have welcomed my visit and would have encouraged me to join their worldwide fellowship of Radio Amateurs.
It would be many years before I found myself in front of a Volunteer Examiner Coordinator (VEC) and inquired about taking the FCC test and asking how to apply for my first Amateur Radio license. That story is probably worth a blog post of it's own. There is much on which to reflect when telling that part of the tale.
The short version of that story, of which at this time I will only briefly speak, is that while working as a computer programmer and IT support specialist, I felt my electronics knowledge was beginning to fade and I was seeking greater technical challenges. At that same time, my interest in hiking and biking brought me back to the world of CB, FRS/GMRS, and scanner radios. After some rather interesting adventures in the wilderness, carrying a handheld CB radio became a matter of safety. A radio is a tool for survival.
One day while messing around with a scanner, I came across some mysterious communications. At first I thought it was coded speech and, perhaps even, the work of some nefarious spy network! I laugh at the thought now. It wasn't long before I realized that the frequencies to which I was listening had been allocate to radio hams (Amateur Radio Operators). Those voices from long ago and far-away had returned to my ears.
Research showed that I would need to review and study a variety of electrical engineering concepts, learn some operating rules, locate a Volunteer Examiner Coordinator, and take a test in order to join the wide world of Amateur Radio. This sounded just like the kind of challenge for which I was looking! The rest is history and it is a story that will be told another day.
Amateur Radio has done a lot for me and I'm hoping that one day I will be able to put gratitude into action and return the favor! What can I do for Amateur Radio today?
Keep your tubes warm!
73,
KC7ZXY
Donald Watkins
► Twitter: @KC7ZXY
► Google+: +KC7ZXY
► YouTube: KC7ZXY Tube
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