The first time I heard of a place called Iowa was back when I was still in lower secondary school (or middle school).
One day, I read in the local paper about an American pastor who was also an amateur radio enthusiast or ham radio operator.
In the article, he mentioned that if anyone was interested in learning Morse code, that he would be happy to teach it.
I was into everything in those days, so that was why I found myself in the Methodist Pilley Memorial compound the next day. (The newspaper article had mentioned he was teaching there).
I managed to find Rev. Long and he accepted me.
Twice every week, in the late afternoon, I would ride my bike to his home in the school compound.
There were two other boys besides me and we would sit in his home office/studio and practice Morse code for about an hour.
We did that for a few months, so among my many talents was also Morse code, which I must confess to having completely forgotten.
Reverend Richard Long (although if my memory is correct, he was know as Rev. Dick Long at the time—that was how the newspaper article referred to him) was from Iowa.
He was a quiet man. He didn’t talk much and we never developed much of a relationship.
I’m not sure if this was because he was Methodist and I was Catholic.
There was quite a bit of interdenominational rivalry in those days in Sibu (which possibly still exists today).
Or whether he was just a reticent person.
I’ve also forgotten when or why the lessons stopped—maybe because we had completed the course of study.
I actually became quite good at Morse code and was able to send and receive messages with it, all in a classroom setting of course.
There were a few episodes connected with our weekly Morse sessions.
The other two boy taking lessons with me were sophisticated (compared to me) and spoke English (as opposed to the local dialects) to each other with a strong American accent.
Only rich upper class kids spoke English at the time so I knew they were probably from wealthy families. I never got to know them well but one of them was called Daniel.
I had mentioned the variety concert at the Methodist School hall.
During the concert, I happened to meet them backstage. When they saw me with Mr. Wong, one of them made a (snide?) remark, ‘Oh so you play guitar too.’
The other thing I remember were the cakes baked by Mrs. Long. They had the most wonderful aroma which would fill the entire house. We could only salivate (at least I did).
After Rev. Long left Sibu, we corresponded a few times and he also sent me a very thick used ham radio operator’s handbook.
I didn’t have any equipment, of course, so the book lay on my shelf for a few years and I don’t remember where it ended up eventually
So why did I suddenly think of Reverend Long today?
Well, what else.
Despite all the evidence that this is a conman extraordinaire, a crook, an insurrectionist, a serial philanderer, a Siberian Candidate, and a proven loser in almost every election, the good folks in Iowa still picked him today.
As they might say, ‘What is wrong with you people!’