Scary Caller

This morning as I was doing the Tuesday Morning Blend on KNON, I got one of those calls you kind of expect in noncommercial radio.  Perhaps I should explain.

If you do a show at a college or community radio station (this probably doesn't apply to Christian non-commercial stations nor to NPR stations which don't give out phone numbers, letting you know their programming is from somewhere else & not local or is local but can't be affected by listeners), any listeners can call up & talk to the deejay.  Sometimes (like at KNON) there are others in the studio who help the deejay & answer the phones, but in my case it's just me.  It's amusing when people talk about me in the third person, expecting someone else to answer the phones.  Nope!  It's just me.

Anyway, in such situations, people who are - we can't say crazy anymore but perhaps we can say troubled - become aware that they can call & talk to whomever, they will call.  This has been my experience at most every station I deejayed at.  (The one exception was WMUL in Huntington, West Virginia, & I think it's mainly because no one was really listening to the station.)

In Lexington there was a fellow who may have been the only person listening during my many late-night sub shifts.  He wasn't well, but I would try to talk to him.  I forget his name now - Jeff, maybe? - but I remember when the station got caller ID, I would not answer the phone when I saw his number - it was obviously his mother's name - if I weren't in the mood.  In Austin it was a person who seemed to call the same time every day - I noticed this when I subbed shows that were in the same timeslot as my show was.  Deejaying on KNON in Dallas, there have been a couple - one of whom I heard was recently institutionalized (naturally, he called the station to talk about it) - but this caller today was someone I have never - maybe I have but I didn't know I had - talked to before.

It was my first caller of the day.  He said, "I just wanted to let you know that those guys, those guys that were messing with me, they're all facing charges."

Having that weird feeling of becoming involved in a conversation that has been going on for a while, I simply said, "Good."

"You can't mess with me," he said.  "That's the lesson.  They wanted to mess with me, now they're facing charges."

He went on for some time in this vein, & at some point I said, "I guess the lesson here is that crime doesn't pay."  What else could I have said?

Whatever he was expecting for me to say, I don't think it was for me to actually agree with him.  He said, "That wasn't why I was calling.  I was calling to make a pledge."

Now, KNON needs all the help it can get.  We have four Pledge Drives a year, & I would gladly have accepted a pledge from this fellow.  So I asked him, "How much are you thinking about pledging?"

He said, "Tell me about tickets, man, concert tickets."

"The pledge drive isn't going on right now," I told him, "we don't have tickets but there are premiums at the website, KNON dot org, if there's something you'd like."

"I'll make a pledge there," he said, & hung up on me.

Someone else who's had experience dealing with people with mental illness can probably explain what happened there in some other detail, but in my telling, I had someone who needed attention, I respectfully allowed that person to state their case, & when I tried to end the conversation or turn it in a direction the person wasn't interested in going, they took the opportunity to leave.

Is that fair?  Is that how it is?  I wish I knew.