Mr. Hannon’s Son

My father was and educator. In an effort to make a little more money he switch from teaching in schools to industrial training. The problem with this is that anytime the going gets a bit rough for a company the first thing they cut is the training department. As a result we ended up living in several places around the US and once overseas. The overseas time was in the middle east. They were installing a microwave telecommunications link between Ankara Turkey and Karachi Pakistan. My dad’s job was to set up and operate a school to teach electronics and other skills so that the system could be operated and maintained by locals. During the summer between my junior and senior years of high school I go a job with one of the companies installing the microwave system as a lab technician and general go for. One day one of my go for jobs was to go out in the desert to one of the microwave tower sites and record the serial number off the traveling wave tubes installed in the microwave transmitters at the site. A company driver took me out to the site. It turns out that the students from a class at my dad’s school was camped out at this site. They were living in some tents outside the site building and were allowed into the building when the instructor would show up each day. I had the keys for the compound fence and the door to the building so I unlocked and went in to get the serial numbers. All the students followed me into the building and stood behind me and the equipment, probably what also happened when the instructor showed up. I took the serial number down and noticed that one channel of the redundant microwave transmitter was not working. There were several alarm lights on. I though, well I am here I might as well fix that also. After checking a couple of readings I decided that one of the tubes in the driver chain was bad and replaced the defective tube. Then made a couple of adjustments and all the alarm lights went out. Meanwhile behind be the students were talking. I could just understand enough of their language to realize they were wondering who I was. These students were all in their 20’s and could not quit figure out how a teenager was able to walk in and fix the equipment that they had been training to fix for over a year. Finally the student asked my driver who I was. He replied Mr. Hannon’s son. The students response was in effect oh, now we understand. It was a bit embarrassing.

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