Oops is the theme for Week 5 of the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Challenge, and I have a story for you! It’s about two young pranksters who had the good fortune of growing up across the street from a horse farm, and their first encounter with the local police. It’s an “oops” situation, but definitely a funny “oops!” Fair warning though: if you are easily offended by the word “shit” or find potty humor distasteful, turn back now! I have the sense of humor of a 12-year old boy, which is probably about the age my dad was when this story took place.
Have you ever made a plan that went awry in the best possible way? My dad, Gene, and my Uncle Richard found themselves in just such a situation back in the early 1960s. Like their mother, Helen, and grandmother, Blanche, all the Turner boys shared a wicked sense of humor and enjoyed playing pranks on people. They lived in a little house on East Bridge Street in Westbrook, directly across from a sprawling farm that bred and trained racehorses. If one of their pranks required shit (some did) it was easily and readily available.
One day, my dad, one of his friends, and my uncle decided to pull a prank on a random stranger. They gathered some horse shit from the farm across the street and wrapped it up in heavy, brown paper. It looked plain and non-threatening, like a package you’d receive in the mail or maybe a deli order from the store. Satisfied with their handiwork, the boys dropped their horse bomb in the road a couple of streetlights down from their house and crawled into the tall, roadside grass to hide. Bursting with anticipation, they watched and waited for someone to stop and pick up their special delivery. If they were lucky, their hapless victim would open it right in front of them!
Before too long, someone did stop. Bob Abbott, a rookie policeman, was patrolling the neighborhood when he spotted something in the road. The boys held their breath and crouched in the grass as Officer Abbott stepped out of his car. He picked up the innocent-looking parcel, puzzling over it for a moment, and then returned to his cruiser. The dome light bathed the interior of the car with a warm glow so Dad, Uncle Richard, and their friend had a clear view of the entire show. They watched as Officer Abbot laid the package on the passenger seat and leaned over to unwrap it. The boys rocked with fits of silent laughter as the policeman’s head reared back in horror and disgust. The noxious fumes of the horse shit hit him full-on in the face and filled the car. Scowling, he leapt from the vehicle and scanned the area for the perpetrators. The man was not amused!
The boys were most definitely amused though! So far, their prank was going even better than they anticipated. As they hoped, the finder opened the package in front of them so instead of imagining his reaction, they got the pleasure of witnessing it in person. It was glorious! But even better, it was a cop who picked it up. That somehow made the whole thing so much funnier! They knew they’d be legends when they shared the story with their friends and imitated Officer Abbott’s reaction! “’Ehhhh!’ And his head snapped back just like that!” Their bellies cramped from the force of their silent laughter. The few times I remember my dad trying to hold back laughter, it leaked right out of his eyes. I bet he was trying so hard not to laugh out loud that he cried!
Those boys... Being kids, they picked the most obvious place to hide – close enough to the road to watch their prank play out. They didn’t realize that no matter how quiet they tried to be or how much pain they experienced from holding in their laughter, their little bodies shook with it. The tall, tall grass they thought was such a clever hiding spot rippled with their convulsions and gave them away pretty much the second Officer Abbott stepped out of his vehicle. He lectured them about how unfunny their joke was as he drove them home, and then dropped his own shit bomb on them: he was going to tell their folks. Oops!
The moment those words left Officer Abbott’s lips they knew they were so, very, very dead. My dad wasn’t a religious man, but I bet he and Uncle Richard prayed during the short ride home, hoping beyond hope their dad was out somewhere. If their mom or nana talked to Officer Abbott, it wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case, they might receive a lecture, best case they’d think the prank was a riot and laugh about it. Their stern father though? There was maybe a chance in a million he’d find any humor in a practical joke that resulted in police involvement. He was a tall, imposing, tough old guy. Fred Turner Sr. was older when he had kids – the age of some of their friends’ grandfathers – and he believed in old-fashioned discipline. The boys both loved and feared him. You certainly didn’t want to be someone who messed with his family because he never shied away from a fight, even if he was so much older than the other dads. In that way he made them feel safe, protected, and loved. However, if one of his boys messed up or mouthed off, they’d get the back of his hand or his belt, which was scary.
When they pulled into the driveway and saw their dad standing there, they knew they were in a world of trouble. Heads hanging, they slid out of the car while Officer Abbott went on and on, impressing the seriousness of their crime upon my grandfather in the way only a rookie cop in a relatively quiet town can do. My grandfather listened, arms crossed, jaw clenched, looking about ten feet tall and intimidating as hell. When Abbot finally came to the end of his spiel, my grandfather looked him in the eyes, and in his deep, grave voice assured him, “Don’t worry about it, officer. I’ll take care of these boys.” Never were scarier words spoken.
As Officer Abbot drove away, my dad and Uncle Richard swallowed heavily, stealing a glance at their father who watched the cruiser until it drove out of sight. Pun intended, they knew they were in deep, deep shit. They waited for the eruption that was sure to come … and it did, but not in the way they expected.
Instead of yelling, or smacking them, my grandfather bent over, hands on his knees, and burst out laughing. Dad and Uncle Richard glanced at each other, their fear probably giving way to confusion, and then hope. Their dad wasn’t mad? Like their mom would have, he actually found their prank funny? They weren’t dead after all and would live to tell the tale of “Officer Abbott’s Surprise Package” to their friends! My grandfather straightened back up, looked at Dad and Uncle Richard and said, “That was a pretty good joke, boys… but don’t bring the goddamn cops home with you ever again!”
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