Chapter 7: Finding My Own Frequency

My corner shack became my universe. My logbook, a simple spiral notebook, started filling up with callsigns from Florida, California, Texas. Each one was a tiny miracle. But they were brief, formal conversations. I was on the air, but I still felt a little alone.

That changed one evening on a local "repeater." Gregory explained it as a powerful, shared radio station on top of a tall building downtown. It listens for weak signals from handheld radios, like mine, and re-broadcasts them with high power over the whole area. It was the ham radio version of a town square.

There was a "New Ham Net" on, a scheduled get-together for beginners. I nervously checked in with my callsign. The net controller was a woman with a warm, cheerful voice. And then I heard another girl check in, her voice bubbly and full of energy. Her name was Doretha.

Hearing the name was like a tiny pebble hitting a still pond, sending out ripples of memory. But this voice was different. It was bright and fast, where my Doretha’s had been calm and adventurous.

I took a chance and asked a question on the net about "digital modes," something I'd seen in the license manual but didn't understand. Before the net controller could answer, the new Doretha jumped in. "Oh, digital is the best! It's like texting with the whole world! You can send signals from your computer through your radio and have conversations when the signal is too weak to even hear!"

After the net, she called me directly. We talked for an hour. She was a student at another high school, a total computer geek who loved mixing her two hobbies. We just clicked. It was the first time since the accident that I felt the easy spark of a new friendship. It was strange, at first, saying her name. But the more we talked, the more she just became Doretha, my friend. Not a ghost.

She helped me get set up for digital. With a little black box to connect my laptop to my radio, a whole new world opened up. My computer screen showed a waterfall of signals, streaks of light against a dark background. The first one I clicked on was a station in Italy. I typed a message, sent it, and a few seconds later, he replied. My little 15-watt signal had just digitally high-fived someone across the Atlantic Ocean.

Doretha and I started studying for our General license together, pushing each other the way Samuel had pushed me. The local repeater became my social club. I got to know the other regulars: a retired doctor, a volunteer firefighter, a group of old guys who had "coffee" together on the air every morning. The silence that had filled my life was being replaced by a chorus of new, friendly voices. My own frequency was getting stronger.