This is a story of "how it used to be." I'm sure there are lots of current-day stories just as valid in the telling; however, this is one ham's recollection, so here goes.

The year was about 1959, and I was just 16. No car, just a bicycle to tool around on. On warm summer nights, my dad would drive me up to The Coke Center Radio Club, QTH of W3NAV. I'd just recently received my Novice license, so I was afforded CW privileges on 80, 40, and 15 meters. This meant that I could roam the airwaves and QSO with virtually anyone in the world.

Thus it was this particular summer evening. Dad dropped me (and my bicycle) off, I opened the shack, and there I was--in radio-land! After a few minutes, the gear came to life, filaments all glowing, the sounds of cw, a number of AM-ers ragchewing, and the occasional buckshot of the sidewinder as we used to refer to SSB back then.

I was in heaven, no make that HEAVEN...all caps! I would hang out onf 40m, as that is where the crystal was cut! Don't ask me who all I talked with that evening, I couldn't tell you. After all, it was over 40 years ago! Just say that the feeling was akin to your shiny new bike, or a trip to see the Buc's stomp the Dodgers...you know the feeling. Yep, that's it, "all's right with the world." That's what ham radio in the 50's and 60's are to me, even to this day. Those were ham radio's golden years.

Anyway, before I realized it, it was time to leave. Reluctantly, I shut off the TX and RX, disconnected the antenna, and turned out the lights. As I took one more look around The Range, I hopped on the bicycle and headed down the road to my QTH, another of those great summer evenings operating W3NAV, arriving home just before the mandated midnight.

Mom and dad were both already in bed, so I quietly helped myself to a glass of milk and an Oreo, then went off to bed myself. It was almost like the "Christmas Story" but instead of sugar plums dancing it was AM!

Seems like I'd just dropped off to sleep when I woke with a start. No, no tiny reindeer outside, nothing that pleasant. Had I disconnected the antenna from the rig and connected the PL-259 to the bus ground in case of a thunderstorm? "Yeah, sure you did," but, did I? After a dozen, no three dozen re-runs, I couldn't be absolutely sure. Now what? If I'd left the antenna ungrounded, there'd be double hockey sticks to pay! Joe was like that. He expected you to follow procedures, and for good reason. But, try as I might, I couldn't clearly visualize that coax grounded. Now what, for the second time. Joe'd be sure to drive up there later in the day and he'd check. It wasn't the fear of getting bawled out, or losing the operating privileges:   I just couldn't let Joe down.

Finally, I determined that I just had to make sure. So, quietly I got dressed and got downstairs. Hopped on my bicycle and pedaled back up to The Range. By now it was at least 0130, maybe later. "Gee, it's quiet out here, only the crickets rasping away." Finally I got to The Range, parked the bicycle, and opened the door. Once inside, I checked the antenna:   GROUNDED!!! So I HAD pulled it after all. Whew!

Shut off the lights and locked up, hopped on the bicyle once again, and pedaled back home again. Luckily, it was virtually all downhill. You know, I didn't pass a single car or person on that entire trip. Got back in the house; no sounds, so maybe "they're" still asleep. I tip- toed back upstairs and jumped in bed. The clock read 0300! To say that I was tired would be an understatement; but, I HAD checked out the station and left it as per procedures!

Well, as I said going in, this is a story of "how it used to be." I'm sure there are still Joe's out there, setting good rules; and 16-year old kids out there willing to abide by them, or make good before they can rest. Gee, I feel good just remembering "the golden years of ham radio"!

    73 de K3NFS