Northwestern College Pranks, Part Deux

My desire was to prank the entire school. But to do that, the entire school had to be present. The only time that happened was in a required chapel session that happened a couple of times a week. We would sit and listen to a speaker, sing a couple of old hymns and then be on our way. Most of the time we’d find creative ways to skip chapel after we signed in. So, instead of listening to the speaker drone on about love and friendships and other stuff, I sat and stared at the auditorium trying to figure out what to do that would involve pranking everyone. It was a long thought process and I wont bore you with the details. Suffice to say I ended up looking at the hymnal.

Every student, at the required time, was asked to open the hymnal and sing from an announced page. I discovered that if you put a pencil inside the binding of the hymnal and close it, the pencil would disappear and be locked inside. When you opened the hymnal the pencil would fall out. But pencils were not going to work. Another day or two and I would have the answer.

By now the farmers were anxious to get going on the “college prank.” I knew if I told them my plan they would eventually blab it to someone and the surprise would be gone. But I needed their help. For the next two months I had the farmers take a couple of extra knives from the cafeteria every meal and bring them to me. I hid them inside an old backpack in my room. Every day they asked, “When are we going to do the college prank?”

A couple of weeks before the big day, I secretly scouted out the auditorium. I wasn’t sure how we would get in after hours and I experimented with propping doors open but they were all discovered and locked. It seems that security at Northwestern College was a force to be respected. In fact, there was one particular student who was part of the security team that I was scared to death of. His name was Clarence Boomgaarden. They called him “Boomer.” The rumor was he was an ex-marine and a former Hell’s Angel. I was too scared to ask him if those rumors were true. And, I didn’t want him to know who I was for fear of him catching me and squashing me like a bug. I frequently saw him patrolling the building at night. It was going to be the skinny Swede and two farmers from South Dakota vs. Boomer.

Boomer was really good at his job. So my only hope was to rely on dumb luck, and a plan. Dumb luck actually worked the first night we tried to get in the auditorium. I told the farmers this was the night. We took turns carrying the backpack as it was filled with 244 (I counted) very heavy cafeteria knives. We entered the building from the access tunnel and began checking for empty doors. It was closing time so there were no other students in the building. Dumb luck prevailed and I found an open door. Just as I whisper-shouted to the farmers I found an opening, Boomer pulled up in his patrol car. We bolted inside but I was certain he saw us.

Now for my plan. I figured we might need a safe place to hide until I was certain Boomer had made his rounds for the evening. I found that place, underneath the stage. The front of the stage had a thick velvet skirt about four feet high. I found that there were legs supporting the stage near the front of the stage. Using my feet, I marked the position of those legs and found that if we needed to quickly hide, we could duck under the stage directly in line with the main aisle as it was clear of obstacles.

With Boomer on our tail, we would need to do just that. So, wearing a very heavy backpack, and with two farmers closely behind, we ran down the dark aisle hoping our eyes would adjust by the time we reached the front. There wasn’t time to pull out the flashlights. Just as we reached the front our eyes adjusted to the dark and we could see our hideout. I dove under the stage and rolled about three feet.

It was then I discovered something called an orchestra pit. I fell into this pit on my back about six feet. I hit a hard cement floor and the backpack burst open sending the knives flying and making a horrible racket. The impact knocked the wind out of me, which is a terrible feeling. Now for the fun part. There were two farmers right behind me and I couldn’t warn them because I had no breath. Both of them fell on me like a couple of corpses. About two seconds later we could hear Boomer open the main doors. He must have heard the noise. As I struggled to take a breath I moved, causing the knives under me to make a metallic clank. The farmers covered my mouth. Imagine this. I have the wind knocked out of me, knives are jabbing into my back, I have two farmers laying on top of me, both of them with their hands over my mouth, and Boomer is now turning on the lights and is going to kill us. At some point I passed out from lack of air.

It wasn’t long but I regained consciousness, my diaphragm finally relaxed and regained breathing. But we didn’t move a muscle because Boomer had called in reinforcements and was now looking for us. About five minutes later a buddy joined him and they searched everywhere for us. They even shined their lights under the curtain but we were so close to the wall they didn’t spot us. Thank God because those farmers were still laying on me.

About twenty minutes went by and the doors closed and the lights went out. The farmers wanted to move but I told them this might be a trick and that one of them might still be in the auditorium. We had a whisper fight but I won. I had already paid too high a cost to get busted and have the plan fall apart.

I was right, about ten minutes passed and we heard someone get up from a seat, open the inner then outer doors, then leave the auditorium. For the next ten minutes we gathered every knife we could find with the one working flashlight we had. Since the backpack was broken, we placed the knives up on the floor of the auditorium. Then we helped each other scale the pit we fell into. For the next half hour we placed knives in the bindings of hymnals in random places all over the auditorium.

We snuck out of the building and went back to our rooms. I swore the farmers to secrecy. The next morning I was never so excited to attend a required chapel session in my life. I made the farmers sit in front of me about 20 seats apart. I didn’t want them to give away what we had done. Then, as if to reward our hard work, Almighty God pulled off a miracle. The president of the college, who rarely appeared in these chapel sessions, took the podium. In tow was the entire trustee board of Northwestern College. We had no idea. The president asked us all to stand and turn to hymn number 123.

As we stood and opened our hymnals knives started dropping everywhere. Students looked puzzled, so did the president and the trustees. I will never forget the president’s words that day. “It sounds like we have a tinkling bell out there.” And it just got worse. Now students had realized what had happened. They were picking up knives and dropping them on the ground creating more noise. This went on for some time. It was glorious and no one knew who had done it.

On the way out I knew this was going to be the talk of the college, and no one was the wiser. Now we just needed to keep our mouths shut. On the way out of the building a very tall senior named Paul stopped me. He said, “Nice job.” Fearing for my college career I feigned ignorance. “What do you mean?” I replied with a fake puzzled look on my face knowing his mother worked for the college provost or someone important. “Give me a break Peterson.” He said. Oh no, he knows my name. Now I was in big trouble. “For the last three weeks I watched you and those two farmers take knives from the cafeteria. I knew whatever you were up to it was going to be good. Your secret’s safe with me. I just wanted to say, ‘Good job.’” I beamed from ear to ear knowing I was recognized for such a great accomplishment and knowing I had earned the respect of my peers.

For the next two weeks a random knife would drop out of a hymnal causing the student body to break into laughter. This ended the day they removed all the hymnals and checked all the bindings. About two months later a kids choir came to entertain us and they sat up front where no one ever sat. When they stood up to sing a hymn a few remaining knives dropped out causing more uproarious laughter. It was truly the gift that kept on giving.

It is my understanding that this prank has become a tradition at Northwestern College in the Totino Fine Arts Center. Someone else will have to testify to that, I’ve only heard rumors. But I do want to go on record taking full credit for creating the prank. The only problem is that I was now hooked. I needed more. That’s when I joined student security. And that’s when the fun really began. More later.