I was nine years old and in fourth grade (1964) when the magic of radio brought me under its spell. A kid brought a walkie-talkie to school in his lunch box and showed it to us at recess. His dad was a truck driver, and the kid claimed to be able to talk to him on the walkie-talkie. I still remember the kid pushing the button and saying, "Calling KK1940, Calling KK1940." We never heard him talk to his dad, but we did hear other voices coming out of the speaker talking to each other.

    I was familiar with the concept of two-way radio from TV shows like Highway Patrol, Sky King, Commando Cody, and others, but I had never seen or heard it in person. When I did.wow! Voices from who knows where, and it just might be possible for my voice to reach them through.through.well, through nothing but the air! I remember thinking, "What the heck is inside that box that makes that possible?" From that moment on, that cold November morning on the playground of my elementary school has been etched indelibly into my memory, because that was the day I became a radio geek!

    Of course, I was nine years old so nothing much came of it at the time, but the seed had been planted. I do remember my first attempt at "building" a radio, though. It was about a year later. I had found an old telescoping antenna somewhere, and I took the guts out of an old portable transistor radio that had quit working and stuffed it all into a crayon box. I believe that I thought at the time that the telescoping antenna was the key to two-way radio communication! Needless to say the "radio" did not work, and I remember the antenna finding its way into a few "sword fights" as the neighborhood kids played "Zorro" in the fields and woods around my house.

    We lived in a rural area. In fact, I still live about 300 yards from my boyhood home, and although the area is still technically rural, there are far, far more houses in the old neighborhood! Most people in the area worked as farmers or at the nearby ALCOA aluminum plant.or both.or at various small stores, etc. My father was a home builder. No one I knew was even slightly "technical," except for my paternal grandfather who was an electrical systems supervisor at ALCOA.  At the time, I had no idea what that meant, and I did not understand until much later in life just how well educated my grandfather was compared to most people of his generation. The only antennas I ever saw above anyone's roof was the inevitable TV antenna to recieve the three stations (what wonderful days) from nearby Knoxville.

    I had heard the term "ham radio" many times, but vaguely associated it with what I had heard on that kid's walkie talkie. I even eventually got a set of my own about 1966 and enjoyed the heck out of them. What I was hearing -- and using -- was, of course, CB.usually channel 14. I had no concept of different radio services and not a clue about the radio spectrum. Worse, there was no one around to steer me in the right direction. So, ultimately, my feeble (by this time 12-year-old) brain equated "ham radio" with "CB radio."

    By about 1969, my mother had gone to work for a judge in the state court of criminal appeals in Knoxville, and one or two days each summer I would take a day off from working construction with my dad (mostly cleaning up and fetching tools at that age) to go to work with her. After making a nuisance of myself around the courthouse for half a day, Momma and I would walk downtown for lunch. After that, she generally left me to wander on my own. That might sound bad, but those of you over about 45 remember the days when it really was actually safe for a kid to wander around alone in a city. I would hang out at the library or maybe catch a movie at the marvelous old Tennessee Theater, but sometimes I just wandered in and out of the many stores along Gay Street, Knoxville's main business district at the the time.

    One day, I wandered a little further down Gay Street than usual and found the pawn shops. That was quite a discovery, but I also found Allied Radio, later to be known as Radio Shack.back when it really was Radio Shack. When I first stepped inside, the effect was hypnotic. Oh.my.gosh! Radio stuff! Lots and lots of radio stuff! Boxes of it, shelves full of it, bins of it! Tubes, capacitors, coils, switches, diodes, and.gasp!.way up there on a shelf.TWO-WAY RADIOS!! I recognized them by the distinctive coiled microphone cord. I know I stared and might have even drooled since I clearly remember closing my mouth after a few seconds. These were CB radios, but what did I know from CB or ham? As far as I knew, a two-way radio was a two-way radio. And I meant to have one, come hell or high water.

    I don't remember whether I walked out that day with the catalog or whether I sent Momma back for it the next day, but I do clearly remember the catalog. I spent nearly my whole freshman year of high school looking at that catalog and at one radio in particular -- the Navajo! It was completely solid-state, twenty-three channels, and even had a little "On Air" sign that lit up green when you keyed the mike. Absolutely too cool. I don't remember the exact details of the deal I struck with my parents, but I do know I had to pay a hefty portion of the price from my own money. $129.95 was a pretty hefty chunk of change for a 13 or 14-year-old kid in those days, especially considering that there wasn't much work for kids in those days in that particular place. Stuff like newspaper routes and lemonade stands you see in movies were laughable to us out in the hinterlands. Newspapers were delivered by adults in cars, since most routes were 20-mile trips. Most of the kids I grew up with -- if they worked for money at all, which not many did -- worked on farms, helping to haul hay, shoveling cow dung, slopping hogs, or working in tobacco fields, all of which I've done plenty of myself. The work was always either too damn hot or too damn cold, usually exhausting, and always odorous! Mostly, we did the work because our help was needed on the farm and we got some sort of token payment that was sometimes called an "allowance."

    Fortunately, besides the family farm (which was owned by my great-grandparents and managed mostly by my dad and grandfather), my dad had his own business as a home builder. Now, Daddy was never a big contractor with a big company and a lot of employees. He employed himself and one or two helpers, built mostly for people we knew, and he did the majority of the work himself mainly because he enjoyed doing the work -- and he could do it all, from digging the foundation by hand, to laying blocks and bricks, framing, roofing, tile work, electrical, plumbing, drywall, cabinetry, finished carpentry work. He was a true craftsman in all of these areas and he would not accept shoddy work. Every house he built still stands -- many right along the road where we still live -- and they are all still sound, solid, and good-looking. During summers and other school vacations, he put me to work for an hourly wage -- something not many of my friends had access to before we were old enough to drive! And that is how I was able to afford the Navajo.

Part II of this saga continues later when I have time, HI, HI.

K4DXV active on 07/03/07. Former Callsign: KG4LDD.

*FISTS: #10080, *SKCC: #151, *NAQCC: #2159, OMISS: #5799, *FP QRP:#1254, *Smoky Mountain Amateur Radio Club (Past President), *Blount County Emergency Communication Service (ARES), *Sponsor: William Blount High School ARC (KG4SXX).

QSL: LoTW Preferred. Direct OK. Prefer not to use bureaus.

Good DXing, and I hope to see you on the air!