Feeling lonely? NC Ham radio operators use old tech to create a new social network

On Sunday morning at 11, Randy Stark activated the microphone of his radio and sent the same transmission that he has sent at the same time every day, for the past nine days: “Good morning, everybody,” he said, to an audience that spanned as far east as the Outer Banks, and as far south as Pinehurst. “This is November 4 Romeo Sierra Sierra -- WN4RSS ...

“In just a moment, we’ll start taking check-ins.”

His voice crackled over the airwaves, before a short burst of static and then a brief moment of silence. Soon, check-ins from around the state commenced. So began the daily call Stark leads, from his home in Cary, in an effort to keep its participants informed and connected amid the shutdowns and stay-at-home orders related to COVID-19, the coronavirus disease.

Stark, 70, has been leading these calls since March 20. Since, they’ve grown to include about two dozen people -- all of them, to some degree, enthusiasts of amateur radio. Communicating by amateur radio, perhaps better known as ham radio, conjures thoughts of a simpler, less technologically-advanced time. It is in some ways a decades-old throwback.

And yet even still, in an era of text messaging, Facebook and FaceTime, some, like Stark and the radio operators who join his daily calls, have turned to ham radio for a sense of connection in a time of social distancing and isolation. That’s part of the reason why Bob Kulow, another Cary resident, has become a regular on the calls, which are known as a “net” to its participants.

Kulow earned his amateur radio license in 1961 when he was in high school. When he moved to Cary in 2011, he joined the town’s Community Emergency Response Team (CERT). That’s how he met Stark, who has been the Cary CERT president for about three years. More recently, in October, Kulow’s wife died. He and Nancy had been married for nearly 44 years.

Five months later, the solitude of the new normal amid coronavirus can feel especially isolating for people who find themselves alone. For Kulow, the daily check-ins via ham radio allow him to practice his hobby, but also to feel a sense of connection that other, more modern forms of communication might not necessarily provide.

“For me, now living alone, it’s been a great way to -- especially since I’m kind of confined to the house -- it’s a great way to keep in touch with the other people,” he said.

The calls began as an off-shoot of Stark’s responsibilities as the Cary CERT president. The group could no longer meet in public, due to social distancing guidelines, and so Stark began holding them over the radio. There’s a significant crossover between members of volunteer community emergency response teams and amateur radio operators.

The connection makes sense given that ham radio, since its inception, has always been seen as a communication failsafe, and something that can be relied upon in an emergency. A tornado, for instance, might destroy cell phone towers, or knock out landline telephone service. So long as ham radio operators have batteries, though, they can transmit through just about any scenario.

“My feelings, and a lot of the members’ feelings, is we’re the last lines of communication,” said Stark, who is retired after spending his career with IBM.

Most of those who join Stark’s daily net are also members of the Cary CERT team and therefore live nearby. Others are members of the CERT team at Carolina Preserve, a retirement community on the west side of Cary. And some are ham radio operators from around the state, including one who joins the call from Cape Hatteras.

He provided the following update on Sunday, a grainy voice coming over the airwaves:

“Good morning, y’all. Today’s pretty quiet here. Everybody seems to be paying attention to the stay-at-home order. Quietest weekend I’ve ever seen. Cars on the road, maybe two or three as compared to the normal run of the mill stuff that would be happening here.

“It’s good to see everybody paying attention. We appreciate you having this net.”

And then his transmission faded to silence. Communicating over ham radio isn’t always smooth. Operators begin transmissions, usually, by identifying their call letters. The conversation is usually short and, at times, choppy. Sometimes, depending on the strength of the signal, they can be difficult to hear.

Yet staying in touch via ham radio also delivers a sense of authenticity that more modern forms of communication lack. Of all the ways for people to communicate with others who aren’t within shouting distance, using a ham radio has to be among the oldest. It’s good practice, too, in case the situation ever dictates that ham radios really do offer the only way to stay in touch.

“It’s an excellent way to communicate,” said Julie Carlino, another member of the Cary CERT team who joins Stark’s radio gatherings. “And the training is really quick because you learn what you need to say and then stop and let someone else say something.”

Carlino, 52, isn’t as much of an amateur radio enthusiast as others in the group. She uses her radio only to communicate with other members of the emergency response team. For older participants, though, “the ham radios I think are really, really helpful to them,” she said, “to know that they’re not by themselves.”

Fostering a sense of community is but one reason for the daily ham radio sessions. Another, Stark and others said, is to check on people in the participating communities, and to brainstorm thoughts on how members of the call might help.

Last week, those discussions led to the Cary and Carolina Preserve emergency response teams to donate supplies to local hospitals. Between the two groups, Stark said, they donated nearly 400 N95 face masks and about 1,800 disposable gloves to WakeMed Cary Hospital.

The seeds of those donations were planted on the daily net. Every morning, Stark asks participants to share if anything has changed in their communities. He solicits requests for help. As much as he desires the net’s participants to trade important information, though, Stark said, “I also felt this is a good way to break the monotony of sitting around and doing nothing.”

There are, perhaps, more efficient ways to communicate. But none of them are ham radio.

Kulow, 73, tried to explain why he and others prefer communicating like this -- especially in these times. He’s retired now, after a nearly 30-year career with AT&T, working something of a dream job as a telecommunications engineer.

“Amateur radio has been around for over 100 years,” he said. “A lot of people maybe get the wrong impression. Amateur doesn’t mean somebody who bumbles along. Amateur really comes from the Latin word meaning ‘lover of -- to love.’

“So amateur radio really means people who love radio.”

Now, amid a pandemic that has forced people indoors, ham radio offers one way for its users to feel a little less isolated.

On Sunday, in the middle of Stark’s session, he noticed a couple of new stations listening in. He identified one by its call letters, asked where it was from and encouraged the operator to share “if you have anything to give to the group.” On the other side a voice rose from the static:

“Just down here sheltering in place in Pinehurst, North Carolina. Came down over a week ago from Brooklyn, New York. And just happy to have the radio and the dog as company.”

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