How It All Started – Or, How I Accidentally Jammed Half of Texas
20/04/26 17:14
How It All Started – Or, How I Accidentally Jammed Half of Texas
If you’re looking for a story about how I carefully studied electronics, followed all the rules, and respectfully entered the world of Amateur Radio… you’re going to be disappointed.
My journey started in the mid-1960s with a screwdriver, a curious mind, and absolutely no adult supervision worth mentioning.
I grew up fascinated with electronics. Back then, if a TV or radio stopped working, it didn’t get recycled—it got thrown out. Which, to me, meant free parts store. I spent my days dragging home old sets and tearing them apart like a mad scientist, collecting tubes, resistors, capacitors, and anything else that looked important.
The beauty of those old tube circuits? They actually made sense. You could see what was happening. Solid state came along, and I hung in there. But when integrated circuits and surface mount showed up… well, let’s just say somewhere along the line the electrons started hiding from me.
Fast forward to late 1960s small-town Texas. In science class, we were learning about Guglielmo Marconi and spark gap transmitters. Most kids probably thought, “Well, that’s interesting.”
I thought: “I bet I can build one of those.”
Now, as luck would have it, another thing that was easy to find back then was Model T spark coils. Why? No idea. But they were everywhere—probably just waiting for two unsupervised kids to make poor life decisions.
A buddy of mine, Bryan, and I got our hands on a couple of those coils and did what any responsible young scientists would do:
We built our own spark gap transmitters.
Now depending on your perspective, this was either:
A long barbed wire ranch fence running behind my house.
Perfect? No. Effective? Oh… absolutely.
One cold, rainy Thanksgiving weekend, Bryan and I spent the entire day “communicating” between our houses. We used standard AM radios to listen to each other, and here’s the key detail:
No tuning required.
At the time, we thought: “Man, this is incredible!”
What we should have thought was: “If we don’t need tuning… what is this doing to literally every radio, TV, and electronic device within a 10-mile radius?”
But we were young. And apparently, not that bright.
Around 6:00 PM Saturday evening, there was a hard knock on the front door.
My father answered.
Standing there was a police officer… and two men in suits.
From the other room, I heard my name—loudly—and in a tone that suggested my life choices were about to be reviewed in detail.
I walked to the door, heart pounding, brain racing: “What did I do? What did I break? Who did I interfere with?”
Answer: Everyone.
The two guys in suits turned out to be ham radio operators who had tracked down a source of massive interference. The police officer was there… just in case this turned out to be something more serious than two kids accidentally recreating early 1900s radio technology across half the county.
After a brief investigation, it was determined:
Instead of shutting me down and walking away, those hams did something unexpected:
They talked to my father… and convinced him to let me live.
Then they did something even more dangerous:
They started mentoring me.
They introduced me to the world of Amateur Radio the right way—licenses, proper equipment, real operating—and I was hooked from that moment on.
Fast forward about eight years: I graduate high school and join the United States Navy as… you guessed it… a radioman. Apparently, once RF gets in your blood, there’s no getting it out.
After my Navy tour, life kicked in hard—in a good way. I married my high school sweetheart, we bought a house, started careers, raised a family… and somewhere along the way, Amateur Radio took a back seat.
At one point I decided to get back into it, only to discover my license had expired four years earlier. That was discouraging enough that I set it aside again.
Life stayed busy.
Then, about 15 years later, I finally had the time—and this time, I came back with a vengeance.
For years, I operated almost exclusively on HF, running my trusty old Heathkit HW-101, which I was convinced would outlive most modern radios. But in 2006, everything changed.
I bought my first new radio in decades… and for the first time started playing around on 2 meters and 6 meters.
And then…
Fate stepped in.
I discovered VHF/UHF Weak Signal operating—and suddenly, a whole new world opened up. Distance, propagation, antennas, takeoff angles… it was everything I loved about radio, turned up to eleven.
And that brings us to today.
From tearing apart junk TVs… to accidentally jamming half the county… to getting “caught” by the very people who would shape my future…
I didn’t just find Amateur Radio.
It found me—and never let go.
If you’re looking for a story about how I carefully studied electronics, followed all the rules, and respectfully entered the world of Amateur Radio… you’re going to be disappointed.
My journey started in the mid-1960s with a screwdriver, a curious mind, and absolutely no adult supervision worth mentioning.
I grew up fascinated with electronics. Back then, if a TV or radio stopped working, it didn’t get recycled—it got thrown out. Which, to me, meant free parts store. I spent my days dragging home old sets and tearing them apart like a mad scientist, collecting tubes, resistors, capacitors, and anything else that looked important.
The beauty of those old tube circuits? They actually made sense. You could see what was happening. Solid state came along, and I hung in there. But when integrated circuits and surface mount showed up… well, let’s just say somewhere along the line the electrons started hiding from me.
Fast forward to late 1960s small-town Texas. In science class, we were learning about Guglielmo Marconi and spark gap transmitters. Most kids probably thought, “Well, that’s interesting.”
I thought: “I bet I can build one of those.”
Now, as luck would have it, another thing that was easy to find back then was Model T spark coils. Why? No idea. But they were everywhere—probably just waiting for two unsupervised kids to make poor life decisions.
A buddy of mine, Bryan, and I got our hands on a couple of those coils and did what any responsible young scientists would do:
We built our own spark gap transmitters.
Now depending on your perspective, this was either:
- A brilliant early experiment in RF engineering
or - A clear warning sign to society
A long barbed wire ranch fence running behind my house.
Perfect? No. Effective? Oh… absolutely.
One cold, rainy Thanksgiving weekend, Bryan and I spent the entire day “communicating” between our houses. We used standard AM radios to listen to each other, and here’s the key detail:
No tuning required.
At the time, we thought: “Man, this is incredible!”
What we should have thought was: “If we don’t need tuning… what is this doing to literally every radio, TV, and electronic device within a 10-mile radius?”
But we were young. And apparently, not that bright.
Around 6:00 PM Saturday evening, there was a hard knock on the front door.
My father answered.
Standing there was a police officer… and two men in suits.
From the other room, I heard my name—loudly—and in a tone that suggested my life choices were about to be reviewed in detail.
I walked to the door, heart pounding, brain racing: “What did I do? What did I break? Who did I interfere with?”
Answer: Everyone.
The two guys in suits turned out to be ham radio operators who had tracked down a source of massive interference. The police officer was there… just in case this turned out to be something more serious than two kids accidentally recreating early 1900s radio technology across half the county.
After a brief investigation, it was determined:
- Not a Russian plot
- Not a military experiment
- Just two kids with spark coils and zero understanding of RF containment
Instead of shutting me down and walking away, those hams did something unexpected:
They talked to my father… and convinced him to let me live.
Then they did something even more dangerous:
They started mentoring me.
They introduced me to the world of Amateur Radio the right way—licenses, proper equipment, real operating—and I was hooked from that moment on.
Fast forward about eight years: I graduate high school and join the United States Navy as… you guessed it… a radioman. Apparently, once RF gets in your blood, there’s no getting it out.
After my Navy tour, life kicked in hard—in a good way. I married my high school sweetheart, we bought a house, started careers, raised a family… and somewhere along the way, Amateur Radio took a back seat.
At one point I decided to get back into it, only to discover my license had expired four years earlier. That was discouraging enough that I set it aside again.
Life stayed busy.
Then, about 15 years later, I finally had the time—and this time, I came back with a vengeance.
For years, I operated almost exclusively on HF, running my trusty old Heathkit HW-101, which I was convinced would outlive most modern radios. But in 2006, everything changed.
I bought my first new radio in decades… and for the first time started playing around on 2 meters and 6 meters.
And then…
Fate stepped in.
I discovered VHF/UHF Weak Signal operating—and suddenly, a whole new world opened up. Distance, propagation, antennas, takeoff angles… it was everything I loved about radio, turned up to eleven.
And that brings us to today.
From tearing apart junk TVs… to accidentally jamming half the county… to getting “caught” by the very people who would shape my future…
I didn’t just find Amateur Radio.
It found me—and never let go.