THE DYING HOBBY

I obtained my amateur radio license in 1960. (I was 12 at the time.) It's an old hobby, starting with the advent of radio. However, it is now a struggling hobby. The bright minds have been drawn away by the lure of building computers, programming, and hacking into cell phones. My first experience was putting together a Knight Kit. It was an AM 60-watt transmitter and a companion receiver. I soldered every joint. When it was completed, the receiver didn't seem to work well, so my dad and I took it to one of the hams in town who had a lot of electronic expertise. Once he studied the schematic and corrected a few of my errors, it worked fine. We lived on a cranberry farm so I had the luxury that few hams have; room for an awesome antenna. I strung up a 120 foot long wire pointed directly at Southern California. Needless to say, my signal reports from California and Nevada were outstanding. I had a Novice license and all communication was by Morse code. Single sideband replaced AM, so after college I unpacked the T-60 and sold it to a coastal fisherman who said he could use it on the commercial fishing band. Now I own a Kenwood. I keep it in the garage for those rainy Saturdays when I putter around and want to listen to the old codgers chew the rag. That is why it is a dying hobby; they are all older than I am. Of course, I'm partly to blame for the lack of interest from the younger generation. I taught my son basic Apple programming when he was seven, and he never looked back. He didn't see the glamor of building an antenna or radio kit. Of course you can't make a living today taking radios apart, and he does very well as a programmer, so perhaps in retrospect it turned out for the best. There is sadness when you see a hobby die. Some hams are very good an merging computers and amateur radio, but I think the glory days are gone. It's only a matter of time. Fortunately, it doesn't bother me except for occasional bouts of sucidal thoughts. Just kidding. Have you had a hobby that has died?

RACISM

Since WWII is the subject, I have uploaded some photos off original film my father took in 1945. The second photo is of my parents. They had been married about 4 years when it was taken.

He had his movie camera as they followed the front line and the retreating Germans. This next photo is a barn full of dead bodies.




The Germans locked them in; doused them with gas, and set them on fire. Three days later, when my dad arrived, he could still see smoke trailing off the corpses. It made an impact on the whole world at that time, and these films still make a powerful statement today.









Racism knows no limits. My question is, "Where does racism begin?" I think we can trace it back through culture, clans, families, and finally to the individual. What is in my heart? If I eliminate racism from myself, then it is more difficult to take root in my children and those I influence. If I speak out against it, then I have an influence in society as well. I have a responsibility to defend those who cannot defend themselves. I have a responsiblity to live a life free from hate. I have a responsibility to live by example. Can you think of other ways this should impact our lives?

GLAD TO BE ALIVE

I usually don't watch a lot of television, so it has been an endurance for me to spend 14 hours doing just that over the past week. PBS presented The War by Ken Burns. It was a fascinating overview of WWII history, focusing on four typical American towns and the personal interviews of individuals from them. I didn't want to buy the DVD set later for $129, so it was important that I watch it now. WWII veterans have now reached the age that an average of 1,000 die each day. My own father is currently in relatively good health at age 95, and he had full participation in that history. He began as an MP in the states, and then was a vehicle mechanic in Europe. He crossed into France on "D-30" which means 30 days after the invasion.

Today I was telling him about the series. We get coffee everyday when I make my bank run. After the first stop he started to relate a story from that past, but forgot what he was going to say. After the second bank stop he remembered. He was working on a truck when a shell from a German 88 landed on its tail next to him and slid to a stop without exploding. I have heard this story before, but after watching that series, it took on a whole new meaning. My stomach flipped. I was born in 1948. Suddenly I felt very glad to be alive. I exist because of the faulty aerodynamics of German artillery. My mother, my siblings, my spouse, my children, their spouses-- the thought is overwhelming how history could have occured differently based on one shell.

So I begin thinking, "How important am I?" Is my existence determined by chance? Does God ever reach into human history and tweak the outcome so that one may live and another die? I don't know how often He does that, but there is one fact that we do know: Jesus said, "I lay down my life and take it up again." I could possibly lay down my life if I do something heroic like shield a grenade with my body, or push someone out of the way of an oncoming truck. No way could I take my life up again after dying.

Has anything ever happened to you that could have easily ended your life? More importantly, has anyone ever died so that you may live? Are you glad to be alive?