This article was written for This Week in Amateur Radio by Bill Continelli, W2XOY, who also wrote the Wayback Machine series.

CQ MARS

The Summer of 1977 was good to me. I was living alone in the family homestead, thanks to my parents, brother, and sisters' move to Albany, NY to accommodate my father's promotion. I had my first "real" job as a dispatcher in the Buffalo Police Department 911 system, where I was making "big" money—$10,000 per year. I had a beautiful girlfriend, who had not yet morphed into the Shrieking, Bloodsucking Creature from the Planet Psycho. I had a VW Bus, full of all the latest radio equipment. And, I had a close circle of ham radio friends, with whom I had nightly QSO's that would last for hours.

A few notes on these hams; like myself, they were in their mid 20's and just starting their careers. Unlike me, they were still entrenched in Hippie Land. Because of my job at the Police Department, I had short hair, was clean shaven, and wore a uniform. They, on the other hand, had long hair, beards, and dressed in rags held together by dirt. They also indulged heavily in the use of the dreaded illegal weed, marijuana, otherwise known as pot. I avoided this deadly hemp because 1) I had seen Reefer Madness and knew what even a single puff (or toke) could do to me; 2) I worked at the Buffalo Police Department; and 3) my dad was a Narcotics Investigator for NY State and would disembowel me if I was ever caught smoking the stuff.

Despite our differences, we got along great, in person as well as on the air. Our QSO's were always within the parameters set by Part 97; however, because we often discussed controversial political, social, religious and economic issues for hours at a time, we talked on either 2 meter FM simplex, or on 10 meter AM using converted CB rigs. Since we all lived within 2 miles of each other, this was easy to do, even with a 2 meter HT or a converted CB walkie-talkie.

One ham in this group deserves special attention, let's call him "Dave". Dave had the longest hair, the scruffiest beard, the most ragged clothes, and indulged in the forbidden weed more than the others. He lived for a time in his 1965 Pontiac, later, he got a room in a dilapidated rooming house.

Dave had many bizarre theories and beliefs; paramount among them was his firm conviction that UFO's existed, and aliens from other planets not only were watching us, but actually walked among us, disguised as humans. He devoured every book and article he could find on the subject; his favorite TV show was "The Invaders", and his favorite novel was "The War of the Worlds" by H.G. Wells. Dave had memorized every passage in the Bible he believed was a reference to UFO's and aliens. He would talk for hours on 2 meter simplex or 10 meter AM about them. Dave had a simple explanation for their presence; the aliens were waiting for just the right time to harvest us. According to him, Earth was merely a giant ranch, and we were the cattle waiting for our eventual slaughter.

Dave was determined not to become the main course at an intergalactic barbecue. He had a simple two step plan to ensure his survival when harvest time came. First, he would contact the aliens by radio and convince them he was their friend. Second, he would offer his services to them in any manner they wanted, from helping them to capture Earthlings, to guarding humans in the intergalactic stockyard. Dave offered no apologies for his position. More than once, in our nightly QSO's, he would tell us "Yes, you are my friends and fellow amateurs, but when the time comes, I have to do what it takes to save myself".

You can see why we kept our conversations off the repeaters.

We asked him "Dave, how will you contact them?". He had the answer. In 1899, according to him, Nikola Tesla claimed to contact Martians by wireless. Dave was convinced that it was no coincidence that Tesla's extra terrestrial QSO took place at the same time that "The War of The Worlds" was published. Furthermore, Dave had a QST magazine from 1969 that described the "Elser-Mathes Cup". Hiram Percy Maxim, W1AW, the first President of the ARRL, had come up with this award in 1928, to be given to the first radio amateur to have a QSO with Mars. Apparently, Maxim believed there were Martians. In Dave's mind, if Wells, Tesla and Maxim believed in Martians, that was good enough for him. Dave didn't actually believe there were Martians, instead, he was convinced that aliens from other solar systems or galaxies were using Mars as their base of operations. Dave would contact the aliens on Mars, convince them of his loyalty, and at the same time, win the Elser-Mathes Cup.

"OK Dave" we said with a straight face, "what frequency will you use to contact them?". Dave had an answer for that also. As any serious shortwave listener knows, the planet Jupiter emits a huge amount of RF radiation. These RF emissions are strongest on Earth between 20 and 30 MHz. On a good shortwave radio, when Jupiter is above the horizon and the ionosphere is dead, the signals from Jupiter sound like waves in the ocean. Dave was convinced these signals actually contained embedded messages to the Martian outpost. He believed that this was the primary "RF window" for the aliens. He would use either 15 meters, 10 meters, or 11 meter CB to contact them.

Dave spent many hours combing the frequencies between 20 and 30 MHz with his Realistic 150A shortwave radio. He had a CB radio going 24/7 on Channel 9 (27.065 MHz), not as a member of REACT, but because it was a quiet frequency to hear any potential message. When we were on 2 meters, he would ask us to QSY to 10 meters. Once there, Dave would sing praises to the aliens, and offer his services. Dave & I had many 15 meter CW contacts on our Heathkit HW-16 rigs. Dave said it was to keep our code speed up, but I knew better.

I must digress at this point to present some facts that will put the rest of the story in perspective. As I stated, my parents moved to Albany, leaving me behind. They would hold off for one year on selling the house, in case the Albany job didn't work out. This was a huge, old creaky Victorian house, built around 1880. In the basement, there was a portrait of a stern, forbidding woman, in 19th century garb. When I was about 8 years old, my dad told me she was the 1st owner of the house, and had died in the master bedroom. I don't know if that was true, but the picture filled me with terror, as she stared at me from beyond the grave. The 3rd floor was originally the servants' quarters. It was now an apartment, occupied by students at the nearby college. My job was to watch over the house, and the tenants.

The students graduated in May of 1977, and had moved out. The apartment was rented for September, but for now, I was the only one in the house. Just me, my black cat Scamp, and the portrait in the basement.

One night, while in my bedroom on the 2nd floor, I heard sounds coming from the vacant apartment. A loud thud, like someone dropping a bowling ball, and then a rumbling sound, like the ball being rolled across the floor. Scamp jumped off the bed, arched her back, and hissed loudly at the connecting door to the 3rd floor. That was it for me. I ran down the stairs, and slept on the living room couch. I eventually set up the ham station on a table near the couch. I only went upstairs to take my showers, and then only in the daytime. Scamp, who always loved the beds upstairs, now avoided the 2nd floor completely.

One night, I was asleep on the couch. It was a hot, oppressive, moonless night, and the house was completely dark, and completely quiet. Even the roving bowling ball was silent. Suddenly, right in my ear, a flat, emotionless voice said:

"CQ Mars, CQ Mars"

I opened my eyes in terror. Again, the voice said "CQ Mars, CQ Mars". I was literally paralyzed with fear. I tried to move, my body did not respond. Worse, I couldn't breathe. I could feel myself suffocating. The voice spoke in my ear once more, "CQ Mars, CQ Mars". But this time, the voice gave a callsign, and I heard a squelch tail. Instantly, I could move and breathe again. I sat up, my heart pounding, and gasped for air. As the oxygen flowed back into my brain, I could hear Dave calling his mournful CQ. With trembling hands I picked up the mike on the 10 meter rig and said:

"DAVE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? IT'S 3 AM!!!!"

"I'm calling Mars" came the quiet reply.

"AT 3 AM IN THE MORNING?"

"What better time?", Dave replied. "During the daytime, the signal would simply radiate towards the sun. At night, it will go to Mars".

"LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING" I replied, still shaking with fear, "THE ALIENS DON'T NEED YOUR HELP. ALL YOU'RE DOING IS DRAWING ATTENTION TO YOURSELF. THEY WILL FIND YOU AND EAT YOU FIRST!!!"

As soon as I said it, I realized it was the wrong thing to say. I don't know if Dave believed me, or was just offended at my statements, but he didn't respond. I called him again, and apologized, but there was no response.

Dave was off the air for a couple of weeks. When he returned, he was more subdued. He never mentioned the aliens again, and wouldn't discuss the topic. Shortly thereafter, he lost his job, was evicted from the rooming house, and apparently disappeared. I never spoke to him again.

This is Bill Continelli, W2XOY, for "This Week in Amateur Radio".