I think I was about 16 years old and a 10th grader. I lived in Goleta, in a neighborhood in which I would eventually raise my own daughters. Only difference? It wasn't the ghetto when I was 16. It was a neighborhood of families much like my own. I took a bus to the high school, was a good student, and didn't generally get into trouble. On one particular night, though, the tide turned.
Everyone had gone to bed. My brother and parents were asleep. My room was at the front of our very small house and faced the street. I have no recollection of what time it was or who hatched the scheme. Somehow though, I was on the alert, and eventually there was a quiet knock on my window. My room had a window that stretched floor to ceiling and was about four feet wide. There was a solid piece of glass on the bottom third of the window. The next section had the old-fashioned crank windows that opened out and screens that popped off in a jiffy. Before I could change my mind, I quickly hoisted myself out the window and slipped away to join a few friends. I don't remember that we had any definite plan. Just a little joy riding maybe? Who knows? I jumped into my friend Peter's station wagon and off we went.
We drove out of the housing tract, went down Hollister Ave. and headed over the the Fairview overpass towards the other side of the freeway. As we crested the top of the overpass a police car passed us going in the opposite direction. In the rear view mirror, Peter noticed the police car make a u-turn so that it was now behind us. All of a sudden, he floored it and the wagon took off. I had no idea what was happening. We hadn't been doing anything (well, other than sneaking out of the house) and now, all of a sudden, we were apparently eluding men with guns! Seriously? What was happening?
Peter deftly zigged and zagged and we found ourselves in another housing tract off a street that ran parallel to the 101 N. He pulled over quickly, parked the car, and someone shouted, "Run!" And just like that I was alone. I looked around and my pals, my buddies, my friends had disappeared. I was out of my element to be sure. I mean, I had been a willing participant in this escapade but now, I had no idea what to do. So, budding criminal that I was, I hid. Under the car. I can hear you smirking. Anyway, sure enough, the police car arrived quite quickly and then there was a flashlight shining in my eyes.
"Hi. What are you doing?" This from a very calm, polite policeman.
"Uh, taking a walk." I was a quick thinker.
"Under the car?"
Needless to say, I was asked to join the officer in the back seat of his sedan and escorted home in grand style. We got to my house and he walked up with me and knocked on the front door. Remember, last my parents knew, everyone was tucked in tight. The door opened somewhat slowly and there stood both my parents. My mom was silent - shock had set in, I'm sure. My dad stared at us for a moment and then said, "No matter what you've done, we still love you!"
Let that comment settle in for a moment. I am not that sort of parent. I seem to do fairly well in a crisis, especially if blood is involved, but if one of my girls had shown up at the front door with a new friend sporting a uniform, I'm pretty sure I would have had a freak out. Not my folks. I don't even remember that there was any yelling or screaming. I did get grounded for a good long time and also got mono so I guess that was fair. I later found out that Peter may or may not have had some beer in the back of his station wagon that may or may not have been paid for and he may or may not have only been 16 so that's why he had taken off. The other kids I was with were picked up shortly after me.
I was required to go downtown a few days later to talk with some sort of officer. I can't remember what his position was but I think his job was to put a good scare into me. He was successful! I remember him saying to me, "Your father is a high school counselor and consequently, you have a greater responsibility to behave yourself."
"Oh no she doesn't! She has the same right to make mistakes as any other kid." Bam! Can you believe that guy? He was and is patient, kind, and wise. Of course, all that kindness didn't stop him from grounding me but hey, I knew I deserved it.
That fateful night wasn't the end of my screwing around but it was certainly the most memorable. Teenagers. We're just so stupid when we're young. I didn't realize it then, but God certainly kept a protective hand over my life. For a long time I didn't even want to acknowledge that I'd been such a hellion. Now? Well, most of us have stories to tell that we're not proud of but that we can laugh at when we look back on them. My girls know me. I want to make a sermon out of everything and hope to convince them to see things the way I see things. But tonight, I'm going to resist that temptation. The foolishness in this account speaks for itself! What was I thinking? Not my finest moment.
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