A Moment of Mischief

Snow white and shiny in the midday sun, the porcelain insulator cap atop the towering utility pole made an irresistible target for a bored twelve-year-old on that broiling afternoon in the arid Arizona summer of 1962. But there I was, all coiled to strike, never thinking for even a moment what terror that enticing cap would usher into my life.

Leisurely kicking up the dust as I ambled across the vacant lot adjacent our Phoenix home, I sought any kind of diversion from the otherwise ordinary day. Having an innate propensity for throwing things (baseballs, sticks, dirt clods), I began eyeing a telephone pole next to a church at the edge of the lot. The sparkling cap caught my curious gaze, leading me to ponder, "Umm! Wonder if I could hit that?" The temptation grabbed the better of me, as I then searched for my possible projectile. Naturally, for a feat such as this, only a smooth spheroid would suffice. So, all around me I sought that perfect geological specimen to propel into the afternoon sky.

Just seconds later I spotted my weapon of destruction, planted it securely into my right hand, wound up to deliver my fastball-down-the-middle, and fired away. To my sudden surprise, I actually struck the cap dead center, shattering it into a million fragments. Even though I took pride in hitting my target, the thought finally hit home: What have I done?! As my heart began to race, I visualized an entire neighborhood suddenly losing its electrical power...I mean lights, telephones, washing machines, televisions...everything! All because ofme.

Reacting as any goofy adolescent would, I left a cloud of dust as I sprinted home, certain that Salt River Project (local electric company), AT&T, and the police department would be out in full force for the dastardly demon who had caused this community calamity. Yet the grimmest prospect of all loomed most frighteningly on my horizon: Dad!!