By Dale Holloway, K4EQ
In early 1960, I was a 13-year-old kid with a fascination for the Morse code. One day I heard dits and dahs coming through an open window as I walked by our neighbor’s house across the street. We had recently moved from Lansing (Michigan) to Grand Rapids and I hadn’t met that family yet.
Soon I learned the dits and dahs were coming from Jim, a high school student who had recently gotten his General class license (K8QDM). Despite a four-year age difference, we became friends and I began to spend lots of time in his shack. He taught the code and before long I had my Novice license.
Now I had to get on the air. I bought a used Heathkit AR-3 receiver for $20, borrowed Jim’s spare DX-20 transmitter, and strung up a 40-meter dipole, which I also used for 15 meters.
After a few months, I returned the DX-20 and bought a beat-up AT-1 transmitter at the Grand Rapids hamfest for $10. Heath advertised the AT-1 as having 25-30 watts input, but I seriously doubt mine produced more than 5 watts output. I was likely running a QRP station, maybe even QRPp. Sometimes it wouldn’t transmit at all so, using my great 13-year-old technical skills, I would beat the top of it with my fist. Hey, that worked. Usually!
After a few weeks on the air, our friendly, but not-too-happy next door neighbor, let me know that his TV and my transmitter could never be friends. It seems his TV (with a 21 Mc. I.F.) had crazy fits and went totally ballistic whenever I operated 15 meters.
A few months later, two men knocked on our front door. They introduced themselves to my mother as being from the FCC monitoring station in Allegan, which was about 40 miles south of us. At that time, it was one of seven major FCC monitoring stations in the country.
They wanted to speak with me. They said they had received complaints from two neighbors that I was interfering with their TVs and wanted to do some testing from my station. Then one of the men went to one neighbor’s house while the other one went with me to my bedroom shack. I was scared to death and thought for sure I’d end up in prison. Instead of KN8WHB, I’d be something like 437857.
The man at my neighbor’s house called and had me start transmitting on 15 meters. Sure enough! I wiped out the screen. He did the same test at the other neighbor’s house with the same results.
The men didn’t put me on what was known then as quiet hours, but they strongly suggested I limit my 15 meters operating to when few people were watching TV. Hmm!
I did exactly as they suggested. Well, at least for a couple of weeks. I wanted to work some DX, but my only 40-meter crystal was for 7.184 MHz and I hadn’t worked any DX there. My only option was the forbidden 15-meter band.
So one Saturday morning (cartoon time), I determined I was going to open up a completely dead 15-meter band. I called CQ over and over to no avail. Then the phone rang. Guess who it was? It was one of the men from the FCC who had visited me a few weeks earlier. He was listening to me from the Allegan monitoring station. Our conversation went something like this:
FCC: “Dale, what are you doing?"
Me: “Not much.”
FCC: “Well, I’m listening to you call CQ on 15 meters."
Me: “You are?”
FCC: “Yes! What are you hearing?”
Me: “Nothing!”
FCC: “I know. Do you think it would be better if you didn’t operate right now?”
I thought that was an excellent suggestion and told him so. In fact, I would have told him anything he wanted to hear. I was scared to death. It would be a long time before I worked 15 meters again.
Upon reflection, it’s clear that my guests from the FCC were wonderful men. They could have put me on quiet hours or worse. Instead, they were courteous, professional, and helpful. Best of all, everyone won. The two men completed their assignment successfully, my neighbors no longer had TVI, and I got a wonderful, nostalgic memory of an exciting time in my life.