I am back in the States from Uganda and will be here for a few months. Since this is hurricane season, and because I am a social person, I have tried to connect with the local amateur radio club. After five attempts I have given up.

Over a year ago, when we were planning a move to this area of Florida, I googled for clubs and found the website of the local assembly. There on the contact page I found the email of the club president and sent him a message that I was moving to the area and wanted to get connected.

A day later a "read receipt" showed up in my mail box meaning he had received and opened the message. His reply? Nothing. Not a word. No message of any kind.

Well, I went off to Uganda and worked there for about 8 months. About 6 weeks ago, when the date for our return to the US was certain, I tried again. I read the club's newsletter on-line and found an article about up-coming Field Day. The article said the organizer of Field Day was asking for help and provided his email address. I wrote offering to contribute anyway I could when I returned to the US.

The reply? Nothing! No answer at all. So, undaunted I surmised the email did not get through so I sent it again about a week later.

This time I did receive a reply. It was a curt and abrupt message saying "I guess I can find something for you to do," and giving me the time and date of a planning meeting.

When I got back here, I knew this local club has an informal lunch gathering every Thursday at a restaurant near my home. So I went. They were already gathered by the time I got there even though I arrived at the stated time. Did anyone welcome me, ask me to join them? No. Not one.

Undeterred I was determined to press on. I found a seat and tried to strike up a conversation with the man sitting across from me. You would think I was a police interrogator and he was a suspect. The conversation, such as it was, was awkward, forced, and cold.

I left after lunch just about ready to call it quits but, since the Field Day planning meeting was coming up, I decided to give it another week. I went to the lunch again a week later and this one was worse than the first. I might as well have been invisible.

But the Field Day Planning meeting killed it off. I arrived early and entered the room. I introduced myself around and endured eyes of suspicion. When I introduced myself to one man, he said "Yeah, ok," AND TURNED AWAY! He did not introduce himself, welcome me to the meeting, or anything. He just turned away. When the meeting formally began I discovered this was the man in charge of planning for Field Day and the man I had corresponded with.

Once again, I was completely invisible. No one, NO ONE, made any reference to me at any time. I hung around for a bit after the meeting and was again ignored. I was tired of forcing myself onto a group that obviously does not want any outsiders at all.

I drove away determined never to go back. Now I am not an unpleasant person. I have made a living for forty years interacting with the public and most people find me congenial and hospitable. But this was the worst group I have encountered in quite awhile. So here is how to screw up your club and guarantee its demise:

1. When someone makes an inquiry, ignore them. Do not reply to either emails or phone calls. Put your contact info out there, but make sure you don't actually answer anyone. This will put people off and limit your group to those already in it. "No message, no reply" is actually a message. It means "We can't be bothered with actually answering inquiries and responding to people we do not know so please go away and don't bother us again.

2. If someone actually tries to get into the group, make sure they are kept away by not engaging them in conversation.

3. If someone tries to help, lock them out. After all, you have a routine and don't want the system fouled up by new people coming in with more equipment and expertise.

4. Be rude. If someone shows up, look through them but not at them. Do not acknowledge them, engage them, or, gasp!!, invite them to anything your club does. After all, they might actually show up.

Your club won't die right away. It will, however, die a slow and pitiful death, strangled from within by cliquishness and selfishness. One by one you will pass from the scene, your attendance will diminish, your club treasury will shrink, and you will sit around, shake your head, and opine that amateur radio just doesn't appeal to the public anymore.