Originally Posted by Roy Tucker
So we'd bombard cars on the local roads. It was quite the calculation to time the speed of the car and fling the apple in a high parabola and have the apple and car intersect.
Throwing snowballs at cars was always great fun. Throwing snowballs and insults at angry drivers that decided to chase us was even more fun.
So we got blamed for a lot of stuff we didn't do.
We never used rotten apples, but in my early teen years my friends and I were quite talented in the use of tomatoes, water balloons and snowballs to bomb passing cars. We were often chased by the police and by passing motorists. One friend once felt the wrath of some Wayne High football players who were in a car we hit, while the rest of us kept running.
One time one of my friends disappeared from the rest of our merry band, as we waited above a roadway to unleash our projectiles onto vehicles below. Suddenly, as a car neared, the road burst into flames. My friend had gone to the road itself and poured a strip of gasoline across the asphalt. As the car got close, he lit the gasoline, causing the car to drive through the flames. We admonished our friend, fearing that his antics might do real damage or even cause a crash. The next time we went out, he again disappeared. The next thing we knew, a passing bus was being raced up the road by flames. This time my firebug friend had poured gasoline along the white strip at the edge of the road, and we got to watch the flames race beside the bus as it went on towards Wayne.
Our last outing was when I was 15. On Halloween night, just as the final member of our crew that night arrived (we were down to only 5 guys at the start of the evening, about half our usual number), another gang bombarded a police car, which came roaring towards us, lights ablaze and sirens flashing. We hadn't done anything (yet), but we were also five teenagers, armed with illegal fireworks and other guilty-looking items, so we had to flee into the woods, with the police in hot (and extended) pursuit.
After we made our escape, we then traveled on the road on which I lived. We were down to 4 guys, as one of our band had happened to meet a girl, and decided to depart with her for more intimate activites.
We found a "jack-o-lantern" pumpkin, that had been on our front porch, smashed into the road. We picked it up, deciding that it could be of use. We then continued our travels, and were inspired to spread brush and tree limbs across the road, so we would block the school bus which we normally rode when it tried to make its run the next morning.
We finally reached another rural community. We started looking for the mailbox of "Hop" Fields, with the intention of stuffing the pumpkin in his mailbox. What we did not know at the time was that the other gang, the one that had previously bombed the police car, had already been through that community, bombing houses with rocks. The community was waiting, and they thought that WE were THAT gang.
We suddenly heard "Hop's" deep voice: "Come down here boys!" Without a word, we all instantly ran, going back down the same road, the only way out of that community, nestled in a narrow valley. Shots rang out, not in the air, but directly at us, with bullets whizzing by us. Lights were coming on in the community, and at least one other person came out onto his front porch, armed with his revolver.
Oh, those tree limbs and the brush we had put in the road?--it now barred our path, but we plowed through it, as it scratched and cut us. Meanwhile, neighboring dogs joined into the fun, giving chase.
No one had a stopwatch, but I conservatively estimate I was reeling off 100 yard dash times, one after the other, in the sub-8 second range.
We finally made our escape. For some reason, we didn't venture out like that again. Two members of our gang are now ministers and I'm a lawyer.