[BVARC] The Great Harvey Wells Caper - Part 1
Bob H
W5UQ at att.net
Fri Dec 31 15:09:32 CST 2021
Guess I shudda said Rick. Hi.
sorry Rick.
Bob W5UQ
On 12/31/2021 2:56 PM, Bob H via BVARC wrote:
>
> Ron, So where's the "rest of the story"?
>
> Bob W5UQ
> On 12/31/2021 1:39 PM, Rick Hiller via BVARC wrote:
>> Just Chevy vs Ford.....
>>
>> Sent from my i-Thingamajig
>>
>> On Dec 31, 2021, at 10:12 AM, Gary Sitton via BVARC <bvarc at bvarc.org>
>> wrote:
>>
>>> OK, I'm stupid but why Harvey Wells? I actually have an
>>> old H.W. Z-Match Balanced Tuner which I restored and plan
>>> to use on a big loop whenever I get one up on my small lot.
>>> I did get an O.O. notice in the '50s of severe chirp on 20
>>> mtrs using a surplus ARC-5 transmitter. I just ditched the
>>> rig and got a Heath Kit VFO which was much more stable.
>>> Later while in CA as WB6NDY in the early '70s a nearly
>>> Ham complained of my key click on 20 mtr CW. I fixed the
>>> cathode keying circuit with a resistor and capacitor in my
>>> restored old 90 watt transmitter and all was well.
>>>
>>> 73, Gary K5AMH
>>>
>>> On 12/29/2021 10:09 AM, k5hm.ron--- via BVARC 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.ron at gmail.com <mailto:k5hm.ron at gmail.com>
>>>>
>>>> www.qrz.com/db/k5hm <http://www.qrz.com/db/k5hm>
>>>>
>>>> <image001.jpg><image002.jpg><image003.jpg>
>>>>
>>>> *Excelsior!*
>>>>
>>>>
>>>> ________________________________________________
>>>> Brazos Valley Amateur Radio Club
>>>>
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>>>
>>>
>>>
>>> ________________________________________________
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>>
>> ________________________________________________
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>
> ________________________________________________
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