For Christmas one year I got a do-it-yourself AM Radio kit. I assembled it with my dad’s help and we ran an antenna out to the tree in the front yard. I was amazed by it. I played with the dials and tried to tune in stations. It was mostly static. What did come through, no matter where I went along the dial, was a low pitched voice. I couldn’t make out the words but he had a distinct hissy laugh, more of a chuckle. He would say a few lines of dialogue then laugh. It didn’t sound like English. There would be a few paragraphs of dialogue a pause then repeat the same thing over through all the static.
One night, while we were asleep, the radio fell from the window. It was loud with all its loose plastic parts going everywhere on the hardwood floor. The sound woke everyone up. My dad wasn’t happy, it was late and they get up early for work. He asked me why I pulled the antenna inside. There in his hand was the entire length of string we used to reach the tree. I was afraid to answer. Looking around him, I could see the drum stick we used as an extra window lock for the bottom sash was still wedged in the aluminum track.
Someone or something, deliberately knocked the radio off the window sill and somehow managed to pull 20’ of string out from under a locked down aluminum window without fraying it or undoing the knot that tied it to the tree. I never saw the radio again after that.