Free Publicity

Standing in front of the church Elder board, I was being asked the usual questions as to why I felt the need to give the church free publicity in the newspaper. I guess I did have quite a knack for it and really, it did not take much effort to get it.

It all starts with a plan and good intentions. Let me give you some examples of my simple and easy to learn techniques in detail.

The first incident involved taking some kids from the church middle school group out for a Coke. The plan was fun and simple: We alert the parents that we will be stopping by their house with our van at 7:00 pm to pick up their kids. The gimmick was that it would be more like a kidnapping. We would enter the house, grab the kids, put sacks over their heads, tie their arms, put them in the van and drive them into town. When we parked in town, we would be at least four blocks from the drive-in. We would then lead them, still tied and with the sacks over their heads, up the sidewalks to the drive-in where we would pull the sacks off, untie them and all get Cokes. Good clean fun.

The parents had the kids ready at 7:00 pm and the kidnappings happened with no issues although the kids were making a little ruckus as most kidnap victims do. We drove around for a while to confuse them and then parked in town four blocks from the drive-in. Upon helping them from the van, we started leading them up the street. The victims were still “pretend struggling” and making quite a bit of noise, even for kidnapped victims, I thought.

Then, wouldn’t you know it, two city police cars came screaming around the corner and the officers jumped from their vehicles.

Let me tell you, the whole explanation to the officers took no more than an hour and no one was hauled off in a patrol car. The next day in the Herald, the headline read: Police stop apparent kidnapping on Bellingham streets. After investigation, it was determined to be a prank by the youth leaders of Northwest Baptist Church. The pranksters were released.

The Elders got a big kick out of that one.

The second incident involved a car-top float for a parade we were having in the neighborhoods around the church. The purpose was to invite area children to a church carnival.

To create the float, I borrowed my mom’s car and a suction-cup mounted ski rack to attach to the roof. The straps on the ski rack, which should attach to the rain gutters on the car roof were missing their hooks, so I pulled each strap inside the car and slammed the doors on them to keep them tight.

We then cut ¾” plywood and made a box frame 4’x3’x2′ and attached it to the ski rack. I believe it weighed about 60 pounds. With the help of the kids, we painted the box with multi-colors and lettered it with Northwest Baptist Church. After hanging balloons on the box, we had a parade through the streets.

After the parade I promised to take some of the kids back to their homes. With four of us in the car, we each took a ski rack strap and slammed it tight in the door. Dropping off the first kid, she exited the car leaving her strap hanging outside of the vehicle. As a matter of fact, the second and third passengers did the same. With all my passengers delivered, I only had to hop back on the freeway and drive home. This went well for only about a quarter mile at freeway speed. The wind on the box was too much for the one remaining strap which was still slammed in my driver’s door.

The rack and box blew off the top of the car landing on the freeway. Cars behind me swerved to avoid the 60-pound box lying in their way. After a slight stoppage of freeway traffic, the irate drivers and a State Patrolman helped me drag it into the median.

The ever-helpful Herald the next day wrote: Church float halts freeway traffic. Driver of Northwest Baptist float was cited for unsecured load.

Again, the free publicity did not impress the Elder board.

But it was never my intention to gain all the free publicity from law enforcement. There are other agencies, such as the Fire Department.

For some reason, the old steam boiler in the basement of the church was refusing to light. After several failed attempts with the thermostat, I took it upon myself to light it manually. Since the Elder board was having a meeting upstairs, my thought was that they would obviously appreciate me heating the building for them.

Entering the boiler room wearing my red polyester ski jacket, I manually turned on the natural gas. Hearing it hiss, I slid on my back under the base and lit the burner with a match.

The resulting explosion shook the building and filled it with smoke. (Now that I think of it, this could be why the steeple leans just a bit.) Staggering out of the boiler room, my polyester jacket had melted to my chest and the hair on my face, and the front half of the top of my head was burned off. I looked like Elmer Fudd after being handed a stick of dynamite from Bugs Bunny. The Fire department arrived shortly after the Elders found me.

The Herald only mentioned in passing that the fire department was called to Northwest Baptist for an apparent furnace malfunction. No mention was made of the cause because I was secretly ushered out a back door.

Later though, as I stood in front of the Elders missing the front half of my hair and my red ski jacket, I was informed that though publicity is nice, they did not need mine anymore.

Lastly, is what I call publicity by misfortune.

It was during my days as a crop duster. Our crew was driving out county roads to reach a pea field for spraying. I was driving a tank truck filled with highly toxic insecticide.

The county road crew had recently mowed the shoulder of the roads using a sickle bar. This is a six-foot bar with cutting teeth which cuts level to the road surface. With tall grass along the road edge, mowing it level to the road surface gave the impression of the road having a wide shoulder, although the road we were on had no shoulder. From the edge of the road surface, the shoulder dropped into a deep ditch.

The helicopter for spraying the pea field was waiting by the road for the crew. As I drove the tank truck up to the helicopter, I elected to pull over onto the newly mown shoulder which was a facade. The tank truck rolled on its side into the deep ditch spilling the toxic insecticide.

Within the hour, every government agency in the county was there to give their help and advice.  The Herald photographer and reporter were there also. The next day’s front-page story, along with a photo of yours truly standing next to the tank truck on its side in the ditch with the company name clearly lettered on the door brought excessively negative publicity.

Now, I have in the past sent public service announcements to the Herald for free publicity, never to see them in the paper. I have concluded that they prefer stories about good intentions gone bad. Why else would America’s Funniest Videos be so popular?

It has been many years since I last sullied the name of Northwest Baptist or any other organization in the Herald. I have continued attending the church, even though many alternative churches were suggested to me by the Elders.

As a matter of fact, the last time I got any questionable publicity in the Herald at all was when I was attempting to get my 6-year-old daughter to sit in the water we were standing in at the local swim lake. She got mad and slapped me on the head at the same moment a Herald photographer took his shot.

Luckily for me my head was turned slightly. The photo didn’t show the burned off eyebrows or the torched hair on the top of my head.

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