George Berry, KC6ULT, SK

As many of my Team in Training team mates already know, I am an amateur radio operator. What they don't know is how I became one.

Many years ago, my then boyfriend introduced me to two people who would remain my good friends, even after my boyfriend and I parted ways: George Berry and his wife, Donna. We would visit their home every New Year's Eve for a gathering of friends, treats and the obligatory midnight glass of champagne. Donna is a very talented artist, and George worked for CSAA as a disaster/emergency preparedness planner. George was also on Task Force 3, one of a few highly trained urban search and rescue teams in the United States. His job was the communications lead, much of which involved amateur radio communications. His call sign was KC6ULT. "SK", the two letters that note that an amateur radio operator has passed away, stands for "Silent Key" - a key being what hams use to transmit Morse code or the push-to-talk button on a mic.

George first got involved in emergency preparedness when he was working with the American Red Cross during the Oakland Hills firestorm of 1991. One thing led to another and he wound up joining Task Force 3, the Menlo Park Fire Protection District's Urban Search and Rescue Team. He had only just qualified for the team when they were deployed in the aftermath of the Northridge Earthquake. He continued to train and stayed ready. When the Alfred P. Murrah building was blown up in Oklahoma City, George was deployed again.

There were many challenges working this tragedy, for it was a crime scene as well as a disaster. Evidence had to be preserved as well as lives saved. The video that George's team took while on site was later used by the FBI in its investigation. George developed new techniques for cutting "widow makers": large pieces of concrete hanging only by a thin piece of rebar. These had to be carefully cut and lowered to the ground, for if the rebar snapped and the concrete fell, anyone underneath could be crushed to death.

All of this experience would stand George in good stead. When Islamic terrorists attacked the United States on September 11th, 2001, George was deployed again, this time to the World Trade Center. Communications was extremely difficult in the "pile" as large shards of mirrored glass caused radio signals to bounce erraticly. George set up mobile repeaters at various places in and around the pile so as to allow rescue workers to communicate with each other more effectively.

George had the best sense of humor of anyone I've ever known. His humor was down to earth yet at the same time intelligent. How many people do you know who give the gift of a coprolite (petrified dinosaur poop) for a Christmas present? Or a book on farting and 101 bean recipes? Or a book about some weird French guy named Le Petomane? Where did he find out about him?! At the same time, he could hold his own in more erudite conversations whether about the latest serious book he had been reading or electronics and Nicola Tesla. His humor always had a darker edge to it, however, probably because of the horrible things he had seen. George laughed in the dark when it wasn't possible to light a candle.

He didn't talk much about the details of his work at the World Trade Center. But New Year's Eve 2002, he did. George talked about how few people they were able to rescue. He told us how they weren't able to find many body parts because the force of the buildings coming down pulverized everything to dust. How difficult it was to communicate and what needed to be done in order to make communications work. I was impressed with his courage and his abilities. When he told me that I could become an amateur radio operator and that it wasn't difficult, I didn't believe him. When it turned out that two other people sitting in the room were also amateur radio operators, I began to think that if they could do it, maybe I could too. George gave me his Technician license exam study book that night, and two weeks later I had my Technician's license. Duane took the test with me, mostly for moral support, but he got his license too.

I started going to the local amateur radio association meetings in my city, and wound up becoming very involved in emergency communications, although not to the extent of George's participation. I'd call George every now and then to talk to him about something related to ham radio. One night when I called him and asked how he was, he told me he'd been diagnosed with Stage IV esophageal cancer. It had already metastasized to his liver, pancreas and lungs. George had gastro-esophageal reflux disease and it had turned into cancer. George passed away in January 2004, after a nine month battle, at the age of 46.

I miss George's friendship. I was always assured of a good laugh from something completely outrageous on New Year's Eve. He had great good sense, an enormous heart, the vulnerability of a little boy while at the same time a lion's courage. I hope George is looking down on me from "somewhere up there" and approves of what I've done with the "seed" that he planted. I'll always be grateful for the introduction to amateur radio and the opportunity to use my skills to help people when they most need it.