It may just be a hobby first but for many Amateur radio operators of Terre Haute it becomes a life saver.

Have you ever driven beyond the outskirts of town and down a country road, admiring the quaint farmhouses that adorn the rustic landscape of our county? Or perhaps you’ve taken a moment to peruse the rooftops of our downtown city buildings, or those that outline the neighborhood in which you live?

If so, you may have seen any one of several variances of antennas protruding into the sky. They’re not all that difficult to see, you’ve probably just not known what they were for. As a child, my grandfather had two or three different antennas that reached fifteen to twenty feet beyond the apex of his ranch home, as did our neighbor.

These antennas are not home to baby boomers refusing to upgrade their television programming. Chances are they are generally markers of a ham. A what? That’s right, a ham: an amateur radio operator to be more specific.

Terre Haute is home to 83 hams as a matter of fact, all of whom are members of the WVARA (Wabash Valley Amateur Radio Association, Inc.). There are approximately 345 registered hams in Vigo County and 700-800 that reside in the surrounding five counties.

Steve Shorter (NT9T) said right from the beginning, “One thing about this hobby is that you’re always learning something.” While it is a hobby to all involved, our local association has been engaged in the Wabash Valley since 1927. And as I found out, they are more active today than ever.

“First-off,” I asked the group, “what is the etymology of the term ‘ham?’” They responded with laughter, as if I asked them to explain where the term Hoosier came from.

While the technical roots are probably more accurately traced back to the first wireless landline telegraphers, I found the wives tales of the tradition to be a bit more entertaining.

Ray Andrew (K9DUR), a licensed ham since 1961, said the nickname is said to have gone back to identify someone who was so bad at fisting the key on a radio mic that it sounded as if they were hitting it with a ham. In the early days, hams would key their mic, otherwise called fisting, and their fist was an identifier as to who was on the other end – sort of like a person’s voice.

Another, Keith Jordan (N9UTJ), said that he heard once it was attributed to the women who used to kick their men out to the old ham shack to use their radios.

On a more serious note, the definition from G.M. Dodge’s The Telegraph Instructor is, “A poor operator: a plug.” And while that may not clear the waters completely, hello-radio.org offers that in the early days, two amateur station operators working weaker signals from across town could effectively jam all the other operations in the area. Frustrated commercial operators would refer to the ham radio interference by calling them hams.

So then, just what is a ham, and what do they do?

They’re not just a bunch of good ole boys sitting around most Thursday evenings playing with transmitters and receivers while reliving their glory days. Amidst the jokes stories, they might communicate with other hams from around the world, ships in our Navy’s Pacific Fleet, and even with astronauts in orbit. But there are a few entities within the WVARA that hams operate. And the movers and shakers that make them work are an extremely vital part of both local and national communications.

Two of those entities are [Illiana] Skywarn and ARES (Amateur Radio Emergency Service). Lucky for me, Doug Mullens (N9JLR), Vigo County Emergency Coordinator for ARES, and Nick Vinardi (N9WG), Assistant Coordinator, were at the station the night I met with the group.

“First and foremost it’s a hobby,” Mullens said, as he explained what drives him to do what he does. His truck, which looks like something right out of a movie, is equipped with a telescoping antenna, a radio and scanning communication system, as well as a Motorola Xoom for monitoring radar activity.

Mullens and Vinardi talked about the level of intense training that Skywarn and ARES members undergo, as weather spotting plays a big role in what they do.

To be clear: they are storm spotters, not storm chasers. These guys are trained in not only what to look for, but also how to technically relay the information to the National Weather Service (NWS) in Indianapolis. Being live eyes on the ground is invaluable as even the fanciest of radars can only scan what’s happening several hundred feet in the sky.

Vinardi shared what prompted him to gain interest in ham radios, and more importantly, his interest in Skywarn.

He remembered one evening years ago hearing a lady out of Paris, IL come across a scanner. She was reporting severe weather that was moving east and it wasn’t until almost fifteen minutes later, when the storm was nearly on top of him, that he heard the alerts on the radio. It was that immediate relay of information that began to peak his interest. He joked however that even though he watches and communicates what a storm cloud is doing, once he sees something like hail and confirms it, he’s in the car and getting the heck out of Dodge.

ARES has been quite active in the Wabash Valley throughout the recent years. Mullens recalled the recent flooding in nearby Prairieton and the role ARES and several local hams played in coordinating emergency efforts with volunteers and officials. What started out as sandbagging efforts quickly turned into a serious issue of logistics, and hams were there to help.

There was the flood of 2008, the recent tornados that devastated St.Louis, as well as continued emergency preparedness against the looming threat of earthquakes; events in which groups like ARES and Skywarn play a crucial role in early detection for public safety.

All of these natural disasters can inhibit our modern forms of communications like cell phones and the internet. Many in the group recalled Hurricane Katrina and the stories they heard of hams that were able to establish emergency radio communications. One story they told was about a man in New Orleans that was able to reach up to five neighboring states by using a folding aluminum ladder as an antenna, a transmitter and a makeshift power source. Impromptu thinking and training like this can literally be the difference between life and death.

Mullens also relived the 2011 ice storm that nearly paralyzed residents of Vigo County. The quick action and incredible network of volunteers in times like this assist in: coordinating blankets, water, and food, and even the evacuation of facilities. He explained that when things need to get done quickly, hams, and the various networks they provide, don’t get bogged-down with a lot of red tape. They just take advantage of the resources and get it done. As he wrote in the February edition of The Bandspread, the club’s monthly newsletter, “I want to thank all the radio operators who braved the cold and ice to come out and help their community. This is what makes ham radio great!”

Ham radio is not something I just stumbled upon, however. My grandfather, now classified as a silent key to hams, was Melvin “Tony” Frazier, W9MJI. He was extremely active in the WVARA for over twenty-five years.

It was his love of this hobby and sheer desire in expanding both amateur radio involvement and training in the Terre Haute area that prompted him to coordinate the communications efforts for the Terre Haute Triathlon, as well as other annual events in which hams enjoy participating still to this day.

One such event, a sort-of pilgrimage for hams, is the annual Dayton Hamvention, running strong since 1952.

The Dayton Hamvention, otherwise known in the ham world as a “hamfest,” is akin to a giant swap meet for gun enthusiasts. At Dayton, communications manufacturers from all over the world come to boast the latest scanners, radios, receivers, antennas, and the like.

So why do hams do what they do? It’s for the money and fame, right? Not at all! Every ham is a 100% servant and volunteer to the community. They don’t receive funding or a paycheck from the government, in spite of the critical role they play with federal agencies like FEMA or Homeland Security – roles that, due to recent nation-wide budget cuts, are growing.

In fact, these local groups are actually restricted by the federal government (under the FCC) from receiving any payment for services rendered. This is yet another aspect of the sheer sacrifice hams make, and what truly makes them unsung heroes right here in our community.

What does the future for Vigo County hams look like?

First on their plate is their quest in securing a permanent home for their base of operations. One member, somewhat jokingly, said, “If anyone has an empty building in town they’d like to donate to a 501(c)(3), give us a call!”

Surprising to me the little hundred-plus square foot room at the corner of 8th and Idaho is not owned by the club or any of its members. And truth-be-told, despite all of the involvement hams have played throughout the years in Terre Haute, they’ve never had a permanent place to call home.

Still, that’s not enough to even slow this group one bit. Wabash Valley hams are involved with local events such as the [Scheid] Diesel Extravaganza, National Night Out, as well their continuing and growing roles with the Red Cross and EMA, just to name a few.

Hams are truly a unique group of individuals. They always fulfill their role behind the scenes and never complain. They love what they do and take a lot of risks to do it. But amidst all of the advancements in computers and technology, they have a sincere love for radio. So what do you do the next time you see a jacket with a ham’s call sign, or notice an antenna protruding above your neighbor’s roof? Stop, tip your hat, and get to know them. Their knowledge, equipment, and desire to serve others, might very well end up saving your life some day.