Just Chevy vs Ford.....

Sent from my i-Thingamajig

> On Dec 31, 2021, at 10:12 AM, Gary Sitton via BVARC <[email protected]> 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
>> [email protected]
>> www.qrz.com/db/k5hm
>> <image001.jpg><image002.jpg><image003.jpg>
>>         Excelsior!
>>  
>> 
>> 
>> ________________________________________________
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> 
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