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SOAPBOX: Writer Dan Hull's story of 'boy gone mild' on New Year's Eve

Dan Hull
Dan Hull
Dan Hull in the 80s.

On KJZZ's SOAPBOX, The Show turns over the the mic to listeners. In the latest series, listeners tell their own true stories on the theme of Misbehaving. This true story from Phoenix storyteller and writer Dan Hull best be described as "boy gone mild."

On KJZZ's SOAPBOX, The Show turns over the the mic to listeners. Check out each season, with unique voices sharing about a single theme.

DAN HULL: At 16, my parents had given me permission to go out with friends on New Year's Eve. A couple of hours before Jeff picked me up in his emerald-green Oldsmobile station wagon, Dad sat me down.

“I know there will be some shenanigans tonight. I trust you’ll make the right decisions to stay safe. But, if you find yourself in a situation where you need a ride, call me. It doesn’t matter what time or where you are. I will pick you up, no questions asked.”

“Dad, I’ll be fine.”

“No questions! Call me. I’ll pick you up.”

I had no intention of calling him.

Once Jeff and the gang arrived, our first stop was a beer run to a Detroit liquor store we knew would sell to 16-year-olds with poorly made fake IDs.

Next stop was Jenny’s house party. Her parents were out of town. Or so we all thought. They came back early. Party canceled.

Instead, we went to Ram's Horn, a Detroit area diner chain. In the '80s, this was our social media. We all ordered Cokes and went to other tables of teenagers trying to find Plan B. We got a couple of party leads. None panned out.

It was getting close to 11. The beer had been flowing in the car for a while as we cruised aimlessly. I thought Jeff had been drinking more than I thought a designated driver should. I didn’t want to ask him to take me home, but I didn’t love the situation.

Then I saw it, our church up the street. I knew they had a candlelight vigil on New Year’s. I asked to be dropped off. Everyone laughed.

“Dude, crashing church with a beer buzz! Bodacious!”

I quietly entered the sanctuary and slipped into the back pew. Soft candlelight bounced off the stained-glass windows. Everyone’s head was bowed in silent contemplation; the organist was playing familiar hymns at half tempo. It sounded like a Brian Eno record. I was into the vibe.

Later, pastor announced it was almost midnight, and we were going to the community room to ring in the new year.

I was nervous. The lights were bright. They were all adults.

Could anyone tell I’d been drinking? If they did, no one seemed to care. Although, some looked at me with a curious bemusement.

We counted down, blew our noisemakers, hugged and wished each other Happy New Year.

When everyone started filing out to head home, I remembered I needed a ride. Pastor let me use the office phone. Sheepishly, I called Dad. He picked up after eight rings.

“Hi, Dad. I need a ride home.”

“OK. Sure. Give me a few minutes. Where are you?”

“Church.”

“Church? What church?”

“Our church.”

“Really!?”

“Yeah, we finished the candlelight vigil and just rang in the new year.”

“All right — I’ll be there soon.”

When I got in the car, we were quiet. Then he said, “I’m so happy you called me. I know I said no questions, but you’ve got to realize, I’m curious. How’d you end up here?”

“I love the candlelight vigil.”

“Got it. Happy New Year, Son.”

“Happy New Year, Dad. Thanks for the ride.”

KJZZ's The Show transcripts are created on deadline. This text is edited for length and clarity, and may not be in its final form. The authoritative record of KJZZ's programming is the audio record.
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