After reading a thread my former classmates shared on Facebook last week, I had to post this story. Thank you, Darcy, for reminding me of this.
I’ve spoken about teepeeing before (some call it rolling, some spell it TP’ing, but spelling it the way I do makes me laugh). If you don’t know, teepeeing is taking rolls of toilet paper and tossing them into trees. It’s also one of the most prevailing pastimes in the Hoosier State. Now I can’t speak for anyone south of Indy (where you run into city folk or Kentucky), but in Northern Indiana, particularly rural Northern Indiana, once fall hits, yards, trees and bushes are fair game and decorated with glorious streams of Charmin (glorious only if you’re any good at it. Believe me, I’ve teepee’d with many a person who has hideous form).
Here’s the thing, if you were worth your weight at all, you had way more than just 12 rolls of tender tissue in your arsenal. You weren’t just bound to toilet paper when sabotaging a person’s property. You had soap (to smear on the windows). Toothpaste (to put on/around/under door handles). Shaving Cream (for anywhere). Toothpicks (for sprinkling in the lawn). Oreos (to smear on brick houses). Bologna (to eat away the paint on one’s car). And as I was reminded on the Facebook thread – roadkill … (only in Indiana, folks)
It was a 7th grade Halloween slumber party at Mardell Kauffman’s house. There were, I don’t know, between 10 and 15 of us there? Everyone brought something to contribute. Now it’s been about 22 years, so if anyone reading this was there, please forgive the hazy details or any minute inaccuracies. In fact, I’d love for you to add your recollections of that momentous evening to the comments below.
I remember everything we brought being placed in one room. We had enough toilet paper to wrap the White House three or four times and enough “other stuff” to have us paying Bill-Gates-sized fines for the rest of our lives (because this is technically vandalism we’re talking about here). It was absurd.
At some point, we geared up to go. We piled into the back of Mardell’s dad’s pick-up truck. Again, we had a lot of girls, so we crammed into the truck bed covered by blankets to keep us warm (and hidden from the police). It was late October in Northern Indiana, for crying out loud. We were lucky we weren’t buried in two feet of snow.
I can’t remember whose house we hit first or second or third. But this gaggle of girls hit plenty in the sleepy little town of Millerburg that night. We would unload down the road a bit from our target, and stealthily make our way to the yard. There really is a technique to getting a long stream of cotton white paper flowing in the wind. For instance, if you don’t leave a long enough tail when you toss, the paper stays close to the roll and you get nothing from your throw. You also need to have decent aim. You have no idea the number of times I’ve teepee’d alongside those with less aim than a Storm Trooper. Many a roll of toilet paper has been lost in the trees or on a roof top through the years, never to be seen again.
That particular night, chock-full of giggles while dashing from one dark corner to another, the wind in our hair and the solidarity of fast friends breaking the law, binding us together for one night of fun, was only intensified by a Hatfield/McCoy style feud between the Kauffmans and the Rinks.
Enter: the roadkill. I never really wondered about the bucket and shovel on the back of the truck bed when we left the house. But as we moved from one locale to the next, Mardell’s dad would stop the truck and Mindy Sark (bless you my sweet Mindy!) would hop off the back and shovel up whatever possum or raccoon happened to be laying in our way; then she tossed it into the bucket for safe keeping. SO NASTY. My understanding was this was going to be a bold move by the Kauffmans in the next round of “back at ya” antics between the two families. Roadkill on the Rink’s doorstep. A highlight of any 13 year old’s Halloween bash.
The most memorable moment of the evening, though, was our last stop. The finale. It was Jeremy Delcamp’s house. Jeremy lived down a long long lane. This is not exactly optimal when you are trying to do a quick chuck and run. Now Jeremy had been hit pretty recently, so he and his brother were a bit more aware of any out-of-the-ordinary noises being heard on a Friday night. Long story short, we were made.
I remember hightailing it back to the truck, piling in, and Mardell’s dad taking off at the speed of light down the back country road. Then sirens rang out. Whether the Delcamps had called the cops or we were just that unlucky, we found ourselves being chased by the local Fuzz.
Now Millersburg is notorious for their speed traps. They would clock you for nothing over and you’d still get a ticket. So the ante was certainly raised by teepeeing in this particular neck of the woods, which I won’t deny was a little bit of the thrill. And suddenly that thrill was about to get us busted. But Mardell’s dad was a king of subversion – and apparently at maneuvering a speeding pick-up with a throng of tweens being tossed around on the back bed.
It felt like we were flying 80 mph through the town. The cops were right on our tail. And I don’t know how he did it, but somehow Mardell’s dad got us safely to the house where we promptly exited the back of the truck and hid in the Kauffman’s garage. We watched as the flashing lights sped past the property. Somehow, we did it! And without getting caught.
The funny thing is, yes, this was a party so there were a few more people than per usual, but I remember almost every other weekend (during football season particularly) being dedicated to crazy antics like these. Fun times with our friends, that’s for sure. And not always with roadkill – thankfully.
Here’s the thing – never mess with a Hoosier when toilet paper is on the line … we will win that war. Every time. I promise.
What’s your best teepeeing story? Email it to me or share in the comments below. I’d love a good laugh.
