Ceramic Memories
Joy Dickert-Robinson, K3JOY
A box of insulators carries one ham’s memory into another’s dreams.
If we are lucky, or I believe blessed, there are little treasures out there just waiting to sneak into our lives when we are not particularly looking for them. We have only to “be,” not rushing around here and there trying to accomplish who knows what; “wishing our lives away” as my mother told me often.
Such was my day at the 53rd Annual Shelby Hamfest at Dallas, North Carolina, last September.
Browsing the Bone Yard
As my husband and I strolled through the “bone yard” — all you hams know exactly where that is located at a hamfest — my attention was not totally focused on the items spread before us on the ground and tables. I had no restoration project in progress for which I was scrounging impossible-to-find parts so I certainly was not going to break a fingernail digging through boxes of dirty nuts, bolts, tubes and enumerable other things I could not even identify.
But then, there it was, calling to me as certainly as my mother saying it was time to come in for supper. It was cool white like fine china, about 12 inches long with cobalt blue numbers and letters on one end and the same on the other only the color was a faded black. Cylindrical, its size grew larger toward the center and at evenly spaced intervals smooth groves dipped and returned without a sharp edge anywhere. Perfectly formed into each end was a hole — that, honestly, looked like a doughnut — for what I did not know.
Sitting close beside this fairy tale object was a small box, not old and dusty, not water damaged and falling apart without a top but nearly new holding the contents together perfectly; inside were the children of the larger, all shapes and sizes. As I took them in my hand, one after another, smooth, cool, perfect with all their many different personalities I knew what they were.
“What is that?” I asked my husband and pointed to the large object. “That is a ceramic insulator,” he replied and began to explain all about the object and the uses of the large and small. His explanation was way too detailed. “How much would all this cost?” “I don’t know, you will have to ask.” “You ask.” At this point I was too excited and nervous to say a word. I had to have this treasure and had already decided on a number that would be the absolute most I would allow myself to spend.
What Kind of Antenna Are You Building?
The gentleman behind the table approached with a smile and we all exchanged greetings. The question of price was asked for the large insulator and all the small insulators in the box. “What type of antenna are you building?” he asked. “I’m not building an antenna,” Gary replied, “they are for my wife” and gestured toward me. “What type of antenna are you building?” he then asked me. “It’s not for an antenna, it is for something else. When you tell me how much I will know if it is what I think it is.”
With a puzzled look “Fifteen dollars” he proposed. “Sold,” I said, as my heart soared. “Will you tell me now what you want these for,” as he collected the money and closed the small box carefully. “I will” and I began to tell him of how The Secret Garden had been one of my favorite stories as a child and remained so today. At our home I had chosen a site to develop my own “secret garden.” With these ceramic parts I planned to construct a wind chime, one that another would never exactly match.
Chimes of Remembrance
I was fully ready to move on; as far as I was concerned my day was complete, we could go home; there could not possibly be anything else at this hamfest to match my find. And then the gentleman told Gary and me a story that changed my 15 dollar insulators into a priceless treasure. The items on this particular table belonged to a ham, Charles Krantz, W4FKY. The gentleman was selling them as a favor for Charles’ wife. With tears in his eyes he told us Charles became a silent key June 5, 2009. Holding the large insulator close to my heart and tears in my own eyes I promised him every time I heard the sound of the chimes I would think of Charles, and I will.
I never met Charles Krantz. I never had the pleasure of talking with him over the air waves, but make no mistake — he like so many other hams has found a place in my home and in my heart. He has reached out across time and space to give me a tangible gift, something I did not even know I was looking for and like so many hams, he asked absolutely nothing in return. The next time you hear a wind chime, wherever you are, would you take a moment and think of Charles? — I believe it would make him smile.
Joy Dickert-Robinson, K3JOY, an ARRL member, is the daughter of a ham who was licensed in the early 1960s. In her younger days she dabbled in CB until a bad experience caused her to leave the air. In February of 2002 she became disabled, which left her with time on her hands.
In December of 2003 her oldest son, Anthony, became KI4DWN and her husband, Gary became KI4DOS that following January. Joy saw how much they were enjoying ham radio and she resolved to get her license also.
She began studying and on February 7, 2004 she passed her test to become K3JOY. Since then she has been an active member of the Blue Ridge Amateur Radio Society in Greenville, South Carolina. She has served as the club secretary and has acted as net control for their weekly net. In 2009 she participated in her first Field Day getting her feet thoroughly soaked as she worked station after station into the wee hours. Currently she is working on a project to create a “Ladies Corner” for Field Day to add interest for both licensed and unlicensed women at their Field Day site. Joy can be reached at 101 Frontier Dr, Easley, SC 29640-7152.
