If you’ve ever had teenagers in your life, you may be able to relate to this tale. The event took place about thirty years ago, but I remember the key components like they occurred yesterday.
One of the perks of being a school superintendent was attending conferences in Traverse City each fall. Ruth enjoyed going with me. The year that Elizabeth was a senior in high school and Michael was a junior we left the two of them home to fend for themselves. David was attending Spring Arbor University by then. Ruth and I stayed an extra night extending the trip to Saturday.
We explored the Leelanau Penisula after the conference closed and had a nice dinner on Traverse Bay. Cell phones were not commonplace, so I stopped to use a payphone to call to check in on the kids. Surprisingly, David answered. My opening line was, “Calling to check in. How are things going?”
He was succinct. “I’ll let you talk to BZ.”
She took the phone, and I asked the same of her. “Fine. Everything’s good.”
“Anyone hanging out with you?”
“Jenny and Kristi.”
We exchanged a few more words and the call was finished. I reported to Ruth, drove back to our hotel, spent one last restful night, and headed home in the morning. The condition of the house when we arrived should have tipped us off. It was pristine. Nothing was out of place. There wasn’t a crumb to be found anywhere. That was highly unusual.
David had gone back to college and Michael was off hanging out with his friends. I can’t remember if Elizabeth was home when we arrived, but she was there shortly after. It didn’t take her long to spill her guts. Her version of the story went something like this.
She had invited a couple of friends over to spend the night. The friends told some of their friends that Ruth and I were gone. Those friends told more friends. By the time the sharing ended, about a zillion teenagers showed up. I’m told that some brought alcohol. In any case, things were a bit out of control. Elizabeth welcomed some, but not all.
We lived on a cul-de-sac and the neighbors who lived beyond our house were parttime residents. None of them were home. That meant there was plenty of parking. I don’t know how long the gathering went on before the police arrived, but they did show up. As a matter of fact, they just walked in. There was no knock on the door. No ringing of the doorbell. They just appeared.
After they showed, most of the kids left. I don’t recall if any MIPs were issued but no one was arrested. I was angry with BZ and the cops. BZ because of the out of control gathering and the cops because they just walked into my house.
I went to the police station a day or so later. I wanted to speak with the chief because he was one of the two officers who arrived on the scene. I wanted to know what gave him the right to enter my house unannounced. That’s when I learned about “hot pursuit”. The chief told me that he saw two young men purchase beer at a local party store and he followed them to my house. He and his partner were in “hot pursuit”, so they entered. “Hot pursuit” was their free pass.
If you google it, you’ll find something like this. Hot pursuit is pursuit by a law enforcement officer (with or without a warrant) for the purpose of preventing the escape or effecting the arrest of any person who is suspected of committing, or having committed, a misdemeanor or felony. Hot pursuit implies pursuit without unreasonable delay.
I wouldn’t have retold this tale if it weren’t for The Tebo Family Scholarship that was awarded last Thursday. Elizabeth, Michael, David and I conducted zoom interviews for the scholarship about six weeks ago. We had twelve applicants, narrowed our focus to four students, and two of the four we interviewed had fathers that went to school with my three kids. I knew their dads because they were former elementary students of mine. In fact, the two dads hung out at our house from time to time.
During the interviews we spoke about their fathers and their relationships with our family. I think it was Michael who asked if their dads had shared that our families had a connection. They both did. The follow-up question was “Do you think that will be helpful during your interview?” They both offered similar replies. “Dad said it would be 50/50. It depends on what you remember.”
I’m happy to say that we awarded the scholarship to a girl named Ellie who plans to study pharmacy at the University of Toledo. She’s a bright young lady full of life and high aspirations for herself.
I’m equally pleased to report that we didn’t hold the fact that her father led the police to our house in “hot pursuit” after purchasing beer at a local party store. In spite of that transgression, he turned out just fine.