Munson Hill Memories (And They 'Aint Good)
[February 5th] -- I never did anything incredibly stupid as a kid. But I came oh so close ....
I lived in the Lake Barcroft Apartments from 1968 through 1971. It was a sprawling complex that consisted of dozens of six-story buildings that were crammed into a small silouette of land between Leesburg Pike and the back fence of J.E.B Stuart High School. The apartments were decidedly middle class, inexpensive enough for truck drivers yet nice enough for mid-range government workers. It was a pleasant place to grow up.
Neighboring Munson Hill Towers was as oppulant as Lake Barcroft was simple. Although they both shared a common property line, the two complexes might as well have been in different countries. Munson Hill was for the upper-crust, housing a combination of rich retired types and high level government officials. It featured tennis courts and a two-hole golf course. In the front of the building was a beautiful three-story fountain that created a soft mist which gave the building an eerie appearance in the early morning. It was the fountain that almost got me in soooooo much trouble.
Our school bus picked us up and dropped us off just a few feet away from the fountain. I had joked to one of my fellow 7th graders that it would be "cool" to pour a few boxes of laundry detergent into the fountain and create a wall of foam like I saw on the Brady Bunch the previous night. My friends loved the idea.
I was kidding. They were serious.
By the end of the school year, Brooks and David were ready to "attack" the fountain, and they wanted me involved. I refused. Oh, I tried to come up with some "cool" reasons as to why I couldn't, but the fact is I just didn't go for that kind of thing. They finally gave up on me and made their plans for the "attack on Munson Hill." They both snuck out after their parents went to sleep and crossed the golf links towards the fountain. They carried ten boxes of Tide detergent. Around midnight, they made their move. It took them about five minutes to empty the boxes of detergent into the fountain. Brooks told me later that as they ran, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw the foam already beginning to overflow the fountain wall.
The next morning, I walked to the bus stop and found literally dozens of work trucks surrounding the fountain. There were three police cars as well. They were so busy running around the fountain that they never noticed us waiting for the bus. Brooks and Dave were in hysterics.
The police were waiting for us when the bus made its afternoon stop. They somehow knew that someone in the group was responsible, but weren't able to force anyone to admit it. I thought that my two friends were dead for sure. That night, detectives canvassed the entire apartment complex looking for anyone who might have seen someone walking towards Munson Hill the previous night. They came to our door too. They asked my father who said that, no, he was asleep and didn't see anything. He asked the police why they were so interested in a "prank" that did no real damage. I was shocked when I heard the reply. "It wasn't just a prank," began the policeman, "Munson Hill's air conditioning system cools itself using water from that fountain. When the pumps brought in that soapy water, it destroyed tens of thousands of dollars of equipment." As the policeman was walking away, he turned and said, "What's worse is that they won't have their air conditioning for weeks, maybe months." It was two weeks before the July heat and humidity was to hit. Most of the windows were could not be opened as the building was built around the air conditioning system.
They never found out who did the damage, and I never felt the need to tell. Although my two friends still laughed about what they had done publicly, privately, I have little doubt that they were very troubled by their actions.
And I came so close to being part of it.
