By Dave Jensen, W7DGJ

It's easy to look back on your early days as a Ham Radio operator and to see it as nothing but fun-filled summer days of playing with radios. While that may be true for many readers, perhaps you've become a ham at an older age. That's great, as you were likely on a more mature path to your license. For me, and a couple of guys I grew up with, those days were filled with excitement, yes . . .  but also with huge loads of stupidity.

Let me tell you about one summer when I not only got my radio merit badge but then nearly got kicked out of my boy scout troop forever. It was not my proudest moment!

A Hot, Humid Summer in Northern Ohio

I grew up in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio, and while it was nice to escape the cold weather that hits Northern Ohio each winter, summers were nasty as well. The "Lake Effect" meant the region was extremely humid, and summers were a great time to head out into the countryside where there was a bit less of the sticky stuff.

That's why my buddies and I would look forward to the big Boy Scout summer camp at Camp Buckeye in Massillon, Ohio. This large park was about 90 minutes to our South and set in a beautiful green zone filled with lakes, farms, and plenty of open space. I don't know if Camp Buckeye is still there or whether it's been paved over with condominiums, but it sure holds a special place in the heart of anyone who spent some time there with their fellow scouts.

The setup at Camp Buckeye included a large building where scouts would gather in the evenings and for meals, along with rows and rows of tents where we'd unload the stuff we've hauled with us and get ready for anything from a few nights to a week or two of camping. That year, my buddies and I were all focused on getting as many merit badges as we could, and my buddy Jeff (still my best friend) was already on his way to an eventual Eagle Scout honor. I had accomplished all the easy ones -- silly stuff like Art where no matter what you did you'd walk away with a badge in a day, and I next had my eyes on the Radio merit badge.

The radio merit badge was a bit more difficult as the Scout leader who was responsible for testing in the Radio category was a serious Ham Radio operator who ran the Radio Tent at Camp Buckeye. As I recall, he had a very nice setup with a wire antenna stretching out into the tree tops and a couple of large radios with a generator. I remember screening out the noise of the generator while trying to hear the DX I was logging as a short wave listener. He asked me a lot of technical questions about radio, and I showed him my Log Book of international broadcasts, many of them with QSL cards I had received. By the third day of camp I was included at dinner as a new holder of the Radio merit badge.

It was that night that things went South in my Boy Scout career . . . 

Black Powder in a Large Glass Jug

Someone always brings a few fireworks to a scout camp, and Camp Buckeye that summer was no exception. An occasional firecracker, a group of guys with bottle rockets . . . none of that was condoned, but to the Scout Leaders it was probably expected. What they didn't expect was that a few of the young fellows had been thinking about making a somewhat larger noise that evening. These ignoramuses, led by yours truly, had figured out the right combination of three ingredients that make up black powder. Our motley crew consisted of a few scouts, each with one component, and a couple of hangers-on who wanted to watch but not be too actively involved. It was at 2AM that we met in one tent to prepare. 

To this day I count my blessings that this stupid stunt didn't result in someone getting seriously injured or even killed. We took saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur and mixed them together, compressed it into a glass cider jug and added a fuse of two or three feet. I remember taking a wood stick and hammering it down to compress the chemicals. Have any readers had experiences where they risked life and limb and didn't realize it, as happened here? The incredible, brain-dead actions I was taking are (as I think back on it) just completely mind-numbing.

We left the tent and crept into the center of the activity field (pictured here), dug a hole and dropped the jug inside. We lit the fuse and ran. I remember wishing it was a longer fuse, or that we could have run faster. It was the single loudest explosion I had ever heard, and it left behind a crater about three feet across. Luckily for us, there was no glass shrapnel flying through the air as that cider jug just completely disappeared into thin air.

There was a lot of confusion in the moments that followed, as everyone came out of their tents in whatever they were wearing to sleep, some in tighty-whities and others in PJ's with spaceships and stars. The Scout Leaders gathered up someone from each tent and began the interrogation, and I remember it being nearly dawn by the time they got to our group and began their questioning. No one cracked; we all stuck to our guns and knew nothing about the explosion. The next morning they got to one of the hangers-on who had been loosely involved with the shenanigans. I was the one exposed for the stunt, and I did what I could to ensure that others were not dragged into it with me. (Most importantly my buddy Jeff who would have lost his hard-won Eagle status). My parents were contacted and Dad was not thrilled about driving down to central Ohio to pick me up.

Trying for an Opportunity to Redeem Myself

Before the incident at Camp Buckeye, I had signed up for the volunteer program at our local Veteran's Hospital in order to secure my Volunteering merit badge ("Citizenship in the Community"). After what I had pulled, it became an opportunity for redemption. At first, I was there to circulate magazines and books to patients in crowded hallways and in rooms full of Korean war survivors. But, as I wrote about earlier, I was blessed to be given an opportunity to work in the radio room assisting the paraplegic veterans who loved their amateur radios. After a few weeks of helping and watching as these terribly maimed mentors moved their hands on a Morse key, I jumped into the fray and went for my novice.

I was blessed with the best "Elmers" a man could find. Not only did my experience at the VA Hospital turn me into a licensed Ham Radio operator, the opportunity to help my friends there brought me a level of maturity that I desperately needed. Radio turned me from a wild child into a man who cared about others. I will always love the amateur radio services as it is through radio that I became a world citizen.

VY 73,  Dave W7DGJ

PS - A few questions for readers and for discussion in the attached forum . . . Tell us about how Boy Scouts helped you make the grade as a Novice (or higher) license holder.  Has anyone here had a similar experience at coming from a really low point to an amateur radio license? What do YOU owe to amateur radio?  Do you think that our current group of licensees has adequately "paid back" this incredible hobby for what it has done for us and for our communities?

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