On Oct 12, 1:25?pm, wrote:

What do others remember?

It's a cool late February weekday in the year 1956. I am
23 and a month out of active US Army duty, having spent
the last three Army years in radio communications, I had
decided to get a civilian commercial radio operator
license two weeks prior. I've done the cram thing on over-
drive, practically memorizing all of the looseleaf notebook
FCC rules borrowed from a new friend at a broadcast
station. I walk several blocks from the train station to
the Federal Building in Chicago. I am alone, have never
been walking in downtown Chicago before...but I am
confident although a bit tired. The train ride was an
hour and a half and the flat Illinois prarie boring as usual.

The FCC Field Office is upstairs and I find it. Everything
seems to be utilitarian-government. World War II ended
11 years prior and all federal offices look "war surplus"
furnished. Three visible officials are brusque, bored, not
effusive; i.e., it's like being back in the Army. Familiar.
FCC guys are fussing with a paper-tape code machine
and one of the three radiotelegraph testees has a
problem with connecting his favorite speed key (allowed
then). I am going for radiotelephone first class. I fill
out a two-page form about myself, then do the first of
four written tests, a short one required of everyone then
about FCC organization and laws. Code beeps are
heard in the background and a telegrapher seems to be
mumbling while copying; he is advised to be quiet.

Government-issue tables are too high, government-issue
chairs too low. I pass the first test, then everyone is
interrupted by loud bell claning outside.It is a fire drill in
the Federal Building. FCC agents are not happy. I
get a cup of bad coffee from a stand at the main
entrance and do the break, waiting and waiting, my
mind reviewing what I've memorized in rules and regs.
The military had never required licensing and is not
accountable to the FCC in radio operation.

Back upstairs again to finish the parts. I have to draw
a couple schematics and explain what the parts do on
a supplied schematic. One of the tests is multiple-
choice. Not a problem, it is something almost
intuitive to me now. Regulations and special law
considerations are not. I finish the last part and
bring it to the remaining agent's desk...I wonder idly
where the other two have gone. He pulls out a
template and other test notes from under his desk
blotter. Not much "security" there. I stand quietly to
one side, sort of in civilian parade rest. After a long
time of checking and making a few notes he finally
notices another human in the office. The telegrapher
testees have finished and are gone. He looks up
and says "You passed" in a bored unenthusiastic tone.
I say "Thank you" with as much enthusiasm and leave.
I know the government drill.

It is now after lunch and the return train won't leave for
three hours. What to do? I have a hot dog from a
street vendor, good franks in Illinois and Wisconsin, as
I know. I idly look in shop windows, pass a movie
house in its last week of first-run showing of the film
"Oklahoma." It has a matinee. I buy a ticket and
watch it from the balcony, the only one up there. At
the train station I buy a copy of the Chicago Tribune
and pass the return trip time reading of news that
don't really affect my life. I have no real emotion
about the day. I was confident in passing and did.
My mind is at ease. The rest of my life awaits.

Time Machine forward to February 2007 and FCC
announcing the fateful decision of No Code Testing
for US amateur licenses. I hadn't planned on getting
a "ham ticket." I idly check for exam places near me
in Los Angeles. ARRLweb lists one on 25 February,
a Sunday, at an old firehouse across from a Ralphs
supermarket that I've shopped in for over 40 years. I
thought the one-engine firehouse had closed down
years ago? I say to myself, "Why not?" and call the
ARRL VEC team leader listed for other info. I will
miss the Fontana, CA, NASCAR race carried on
ESPN2 but we have a DVR in the cable company's
set-top box. The old one-door firehouse had been
replaced for years but is now one of the stations
of the Los Angeles Emergency Communications
Auxilliary. Nice folks in there, all pleasant and
seeming enthusiastic. I wait and wait in a room
full of strangers, all younger than myself. Actual
testing doesn't begin until an hour and a half after
scheduled time. Must be 30 to 35 folks in there by
then, most doing just routine administrative things
they could have done themselves. Why didn't they,
I wonder? No real problem but it delays license
testing. The ARRL VEC team leader knows I am
going for Extra but I get the impression he doesn't
think I can do it.

These tests are not even close to the formal testing
I've had in college classrooms. I am retired and my
"job" doesn't depend on passing this test. I will not
cease to exist if I don't pass it. I have prepared for it
and have confidence that I can pass. But...let's GET
ON with it there, people! It's at least a half hour wait
between each test element. I chat idly during
breaks with others. Most seem amazed at what I
am doing. Why, I wonder? I don't look THAT old.
Do they really stand in awe of tests? How did they
get California drivers licenses which also require
multiple-choice testing? Did some fail to graduate
high school?

There are four in this ARRL VEC team. I casually study
them as much as they seem to study me. Interesting
situation. I smile inwardly. The team leader practices
lots of testing security, even to using a small padlocked
test-material box. Every examiner checks everyone's
answers. That's good. That also slows down the
process. I was surprised to see an African-American
on the VEC team. That's a rarity in US amateur radio.

I finish the last test. The VEC leader seems really
surprised. He shakes my hand in congratulations. So
do the other three. Am I the first applicant who got
"Extra out of the box" with this VEC team? I guess so.
One of them mumbled something to that extent. Okay,
another test completed, another in many tests taken
during my life. I leave, walk across the street to get to
my car and drive a mile back to my house. My name
and new callsign (for amateur radio purposes) shows
up on FCC databases for 7 March 2007. I am 74.

Did I get all sorts of emotional goosebumps over that
ham test? No. I had planned to do it, prepared myself,
and felt confident in passing...much the same as I'd
done 51 years prior for my commercial license.
Planning, preparedness, confidence works every time.

73, Len AF6AY