Terrorism Designated As "Having Fun"

This week I read of the death of one of the 'neighbor girls' from my youth. I hadn't thought about her in years and last saw her when she came back for her mother's funeral. I should amend that - I hadn't thought about her until a few months ago when I read of the death of one of her classmates. Both were 80 years old at the times of their death. Both will forever be entwined in my mind as the instigators of one of my most shameful memories.

It was the fall of my junior year in highschool. Our class play rehearsals were in full swing. I hadn't gotten a part in the play, Our Town, but I was one of the prompters. My neighbor, who was a senior was in town for some other reason but had agreed to take me home after play practice as we only lived about a half mile apart.

When I got in her car another of her classmates, a townie, was with her in the front and I sat in back. We scooped the loop a few times when townie came up with the idea for a prank. She happened to know where one of the freshman girls was going to be babysitting. I don't know nor remember if it had anything to do with the seniors iniating the freshman as they did every year, but she and my neighbor both thought it would be a hoot.

They drove to the south side of town, parked near the house where the freshman was babysitting and proceeded to pound on the door, go around tapping on windows and rapping on the back door. I'm sure they were making weird noises, too. The upshot was the young babysitter was terrified. She was scared and crying but had the presence of mind to call the police. The town marshall soon showed up but by the time he got there, the townie had called through the door laughing and identifying herself. The police officer read the riot act to both girls and told them to go home.

All that time I was still in the back seat disgusted with what they were doing and feeling ashamed that even though I had nothing to do with what was happening I was still there and by association part of it. I never got over feeling that way. I never thought well of those two girls again.

That neighbor girl was one of the ones my dad was referring to when he asked me "Why can't you be more like?" and then named her and her sister. I wonder what he would have thought of her if I had told him what she had done. If those two senior girls ever thought about or talked about that night again they probably still laughed and thought it was a funny prank. I thought then, and still do, that their behavior was disgusting.