When I was 12 years old I spent a week in a small, rural Oregon town. I was there with my best friend Danny visiting his grandparents. It was the summer of 1970. His grandpa had a tunable Sears brand police radio, and he kept it set on the Clackamas County Sheriff frequency most of the time. He loved listening to that police radio, and spent most of his day sitting in the den of their home listening to it. I could see why. In just a short time I heard a dispatch for a roll-over car crash, a report of a stolen car, a group of drunk teens causing a disturbance at a nearby county park. I was already a huge fan of TV shows like Adam-12, and Hawaii Five-0, so being able to hear real-life drama like that in real time was fascinating to me.
Mid-way through that week the sirens went off at the Estacada volunteer fire station down the road. Danny's Grandpa quickly tuned his Sears radio over to the fire dispatch channel to hear the call. A young boy had been swimming in Eagle Creek near Bonnie Lure Park and had apparently gone under. Several family members were there looking for him frantically but unsuccessfully. As we listened to the radio, the county fire tapout called for a full compliment of rescue equipment and crews, including the dive rescue team. Danny's grandpa quickly loaded everyone in his '63 Chevy Impala: Grandma, Danny, another kid from across the road, and me. By the time we got there most of the fire crews were already on scene. The dive team was there but looked pretty casual, and had stopped suiting up. The boy had been found, and the news was not good. It was a very sad day, but that was the day I decided I wanted a radio like that.
A week later, using money from my paper route, I bought a radio just like the one Danny's grandpa had. And I was hooked.
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