Error 103 Check LngRng Radio

A frustrating customer service experience

At 12:30am we were awoken by our ADT alarm chirping once every second.  The alarm control panel said:

“Error 103 Check LngRng Radio”

What radio?  The alarm system doesn’t control any radio.  It’s an alarm system that sounds off when a door or window is opened, like when a burglar is breaking into your house.

I knew the system communicated to the monitoring center via the cellular phone network, so that must be what it means by ‘radio’.  But what does “LngRng” mean?  Pondering this for a few foggy-headed minutes, I finally deduced this meant ‘long range’ radio.  But exactly how I’m supposed to check the long-range radio would have to wait until morning.

Disarming the alarm silenced the device, and we returned to bed.

At 2:15am the ADT alarm woke us again.  Same error.  This time I Googled the error message which quickly displayed the solution:

Enter [Master Code] + [1] + [Master Code] + [1]

I entered our alarm code and “1” sequence twice, the alarm went silent, and again returned to bed.

Then at 5am, the alarm sounded off a third time.  After silencing the alarm, I trudged into my office and Googled the ADT service number, put on my headset and dialed.

Surprisingly, I was connected to a support agent after just a minute or so.  I explained the problem and she said I would need to unplug the power to the alarm system to reset it.

Ah, when in doubt, reboot.

I was instructed to look for a black transformer about 3 inches square somewhere close to the alarm panel that would be plugged directly into an outlet and screwed securely into the outlet.  She re-emphasized it would be black and securely screwed to the outlet.

I asked the agent, “Which alarm panel?  We have two.”  She didn’t know, of course, but repeated her instructions about the black transformer.

Thinking this black transformer would be in the IT closet, I walked down to the laundry room where the IT closet is located, opened the closet and began examining the rack of computer networking equipment and power strips full of black transformers.

None matched her description, and I could trace them all to pieces of networking and audio gear.

Just below the ceiling was a metal box with an “ADT” sticker on the front and a key in its lock.  I asked the ADT agent if the transformer would be in that box.  “No,” she repeated, “This is a black transformer about 3 inches square plugged directly into an outlet and secured with a screw into the outlet.”

She would repeat those same instructions at least 20 more times during our ensuing hour-and-a-half conversation.  Black.  Secured with a screw.

She said the alarm would beep once power was turned off and the control panel’s message would change informing me the power was off.

Not finding the transformer, she suggested again I look next to the control panel, as if the installer would have installed an ugly transformer next to the control panel.  So, I decided to look on the other side of the wall in the garage.  Again, no transformer.

Then she suggested it could be elsewhere in the house, so I walked around the entire house, including all five bedrooms and five en-suite closets thinking it might be in one of them.  No luck.

Returning to the IT closet, hidden in an enclosed panel inside the wall with a bundle of wires, was a white transformer.  I told her about the white transformer which I unplugged.  Examining it closely, I asked her if the ADT transformer of her quest possibly could be white, manufactured by “Solex” and would have black, green and red wires attached to the transformer.

“No,” she said, and reiterated I was looking for a black three-inch square transformer secured to an outlet by a screw.  The white transformer was (a) white, not black, (b) not secured to the outlet by a screw and (c) did not have the wire configuration she seemed to suggest.  Besides, unplugging it did not cause the alarm panel to beep when I unplugged it.

Next, she suggested I should turn off the power to the control unit by disabling the circuit breaker that supplies power to the control unit, as if it had its own dedicated breaker. 

After balking at this solution fearing my Internet access would be disabled along with the alarm system, I capitulated and began flipping the breakers one by one, each time walking from the garage to the back hallway where the alarm panel was to see if the error message had changed.  All five bedrooms, the kitchen, the garage, the external GFIs and finally the 220-volt circuits for the dryer and air conditioning units.

No joy.  The control panel remained defiantly illuminated with its Error 103 LngRng Radio message.

Becoming increasingly frustrated, I asked if she could send a technician out today to fix the problem.  She clacked away on her keyboard and informed me the earliest appointment was Saturday, two days hence.  Two days of this damn alarm going off every hour and a half.  Day and night.

“So, this alarm is going to go off every hour and a half?” I asked incredulously, to which she reiterated I needed to locate the black 3-inch square transformer plugged directly into the socket and secured by a screw.

She was maniacally obsessed with rebooting the alarm system.

“Fuck, lady, I’ll rip this damn thing off the wall if I have to wait this long.  Can you just cancel the service?”  I needed sleep.

“You mean cancel the service for good?” She asked incredulously.  “Then your home wouldn’t be secure!”

“Yes, but I’ll be able to sleep.  The alarm system is no use to me if I can’t sleep at night!”  Obviously any burglar would encounter a very angry, sleep-deprived homeowner.

“No, disconnecting the service can’t be done remotely.  We’ll have to send someone out.  Our next appointment is Saturday.”

“So what’s Plan C?” I asked.

She again repeated her instructions to locate the black three-inch transformer secured to the outlet by a screw.

I looked around the garage for a second time, behind all the racks and cardboard boxes, and found nothing of the sort plugged into any outlet.  Just the garage door signal booster.  This time, I even looked in the garage cabinets and did not locate any hidden outlets there nor in the water heater closet.

Finally, I returned to the IT closet, re-confirmed that all black transformers on the IT rack belonged to our networking, audio and pool control gear.  In fact, there were no visible wires going into the ADT box up by the ceiling.

On a lark, I again unplugged the white transformer in the recessed wall cabinet that was not secured to the outlet by any screw.  It was the only thing remotely close in description to what she wanted, a transformer, albeit white and not secured to the outlet, but it was in close proximity to the ADT box next to the ceiling.

This time, I heard a beep from the back hallway.  Success!

Sure enough, the alarm panel now displayed a “No power” error instead of the radio error.  After a full hour of searching the house for a black three-inch transformer secured by a screw to the outlet, I reported success.  She then instructed me to open the ADT box below the ceiling and unplug the black wire to the backup battery inside. 

She was obsessed with black. 

But removing both line power and backup battery denied the alarm any source of power and successfully completed the reboot. 

At this point, we were one hour into the call and so far had only accomplished rebooting the alarm system.  We pressed on.

Next, she instructed me to place the control panel into test mode.

After a minute, she informed me, “I’m not seeing anything here on my end.”

Thinking to myself, “Jane, you ignorant slut!  Of course you don’t see anything on your end.  The long-range radio has failed and is unable to phone home to your damn monitoring center!”

But I had already cussed at her once, so I kept my thoughts to myself.

She had me place the unit in test mode a second time.  Again, she could not see anything on her end, deducing an open door or window might somehow be inhibiting the alarm from communicating with the mother ship.

Again, I thought to myself, “Isn’t detecting open doors and windows what an alarm system is supposed to communicate to the monitoring center?  Why would executing its primary function inhibit that communication?”

So I walked around the house checking every door and window.  This took a few minutes since we have 14 external doors.  Literally every room has at least one outside door.

Then, she had me place the unit in test mode a third time with the same effect.  No joy.

“What do we do next?” I asked.

“We’ll have to send someone out to fix the unit,” she said.  “The next available appointments are on Saturday.  We have 12 to 4 or 1 to 5.”

Picking the 12 to 4 slot, I asked her how to disable the system in the meantime, to which she replied with the same instructions Google suggested:

[Master Code] + [1] + [Master Code] + [1]

I told her this is exactly what I did before and the alarm still went off two hours later.  She reiterated that I must enter my code and “1” twice; just once would not suffice.  I said I did enter it twice because that’s what Google said to do.

“Oh, disabling the alarm is only good for four hours.  Then the alarm is automatically re-enabled after four hours.”

“So how do I disable the alarm permanently, so I don’t have to keep disabling it every few hours?” I asked, reiterating, “I don’t want to keep getting woken up in the middle of the night.  I’ll rip it off the wall before I do that!” 

Yes, I would resort to violence.

She said entering the code twice was my only option, so I asked, “What if I unplug the white transformer and disconnect the backup battery?  Wouldn’t that permanently disable the alarm until your technician can fix the problem?”

“Oh, no, sir, I can’t advise you to do that!”

“Why not, won’t removing power to the unit disable it?”

“That would leave your home unsecure, so I can’t recommend you do that.”

F.M.L.