When I was just 6 or 7, I built my first crystal radio. It blew my mind that I could hook a wire to a tree trunk, plug in an earpiece, and — without even a battery — hear KGIL, our local station in the Valley. Sometimes I’d catch “Twist and Shout” or another early rock tune. Back then, radio felt like magic. It was free. It was fun. It was news, music and connection — anytime, anywhere.
By age 12, radio turned into something even more powerful for me. My friend Neil Higashida and I discovered a booklet on ham radio at Radio Shack (yeah, I’m dating myself). We were hooked. We joined the Lockheed Amateur Radio Club in Burbank. We learned Morse Code, passed the Novice license test, and by 15, we both earned our General Class licenses after testing at the FCC office in L.A.
We were full-fledged radio operators. We studied electronics, built our own transmitters and antennas, and could talk to people all over the world — by voice or Morse Code. We communicated with people throughout the globe. This was long before cell phones or the internet. Most news and information came from three or four channels on a black-and-white TV. (Mom never did get a color one.)
Communicating globally felt like a miracle.
But the best part of radio? Listening.
I’d tune through the shortwave bands for hours, hearing voices from across the planet. Japan. Australia. Radio Moscow. And best of all — Voice of America.
Voice of America wasn’t just a station. It was the voice of the free world. Created in 1942 to fight Nazi propaganda, VOA told the truth during dark times. It shared our music, our news, our culture and our values. It reached soldiers overseas and people trapped behind walls — both real and digital. To them, VOA was a window into freedom.
Dictators feared it. They jammed it, tried to block it. But VOA was strong. It pushed through. It gave hope.
Even today, not everyone has the internet. Billions live behind firewalls and censorship. But they can still tune in a radio. For millions, shortwave radio remains a lifeline. And Voice of America kept that lifeline open for more than 80 years.
Until now.
In March 2025, President Donald Trump signed an executive order that shut down Voice of America.
The order gutted the U.S. Agency for Global Media—the group that runs VOA. Over 1,300 workers were sent home. Many broadcasts were replaced with automated music. The administration called VOA “leftist” and full of “radical propaganda.” Kari Lake, now a Trump advisor, said VOA was just “nonsense” that had to go.
Let’s be clear: shutting down VOA and its influence abroad is the real nonsense.
VOA isn’t leftist. It’s not right-wing either. It’s American. It promotes democracy, free speech and truth. If those ideas scare someone, maybe it says more about them than about VOA.
Killing VOA is like cutting out our own tongue. It weakens us in the global battle for hearts and minds. It hands Russia and China the microphone. And it sends a message that our government doesn’t believe in open speech anymore.
This shutdown isn’t just about radio. It’s a warning sign — like a canary in a coal mine.
First it was pressure on the Associated Press. Then came the VOA shutdown. Now there’s growing hostility toward NPR and PBS. Giant broadcasters like CBS are being pushed to fall in line — or face consequences.
Next, maybe it’s your voice. My voice. Anyone who speaks truth that power doesn’t like.
Just look around: journalists harassed, licenses threatened, lawsuits flying. This is how freedom erodes — not all at once, but bit by bit, muffled under pressure.
Thankfully, some are fighting back. As for VOA, a federal judge issued a restraining order to block the shutdown — for now. But the future is uncertain. VOA’s website is still running, though limited. Some broadcasts continue under pressure. You can still find frequencies and updates at voanews.com.
The Washington Post says, “Democracy Dies in Darkness.” That’s true.
But democracy also dies in silence.
And right now, America’s loudest, proudest, most hopeful voice to the world is being strangled — by the very leaders who should be amplifying the volume.
I know amplifiers. I’ve built plenty. I’m a radio operator, after all.
And as a Ham — and as an American — I mourn this loss deeply. The detuning and death of Voice of America is the death of something much bigger than a radio signal.
It’s the fading of freedom’s call.
It’s pulling the plug on America’s world leadership — while Radio Moscow and China Radio International beam on, louder than ever, to a world full of yearning hearts and minds still listening.
Gary Horton’s “Full Speed to Port!” has appeared in The Signal since 2006. The opinions expressed in his column do not necessarily reflect the opinions of The Signal or its editorial board.
