It was New Year's Eve, some years ago, when Gene and his wife came over from next door to celebrate the coming of the new year. They'd come over to let their daughter entertain her friends at their home with a party.
We were celebrating with a drink, telling stories, and jokes and generally passing the time in a quiet sort of way, when their daughter came to the back door. She said, "Dad, can you come home, things are getting out of hand."
Gene got up immediately, didn't ask any questions, and left. I went with him to back him up if necessary.
We walked into bedlam; loud music, spilled drinks, knots of kids standing around talking and laughing. There were many more than their daughter had invited. I heard one inebriated young fellow say to his buddy, trying to be cool, "This sucks, let's go to Julie's house. I heard they have lots of beer there." His buddy said, "We're at Julie's." To which the first fellow simply nodded.
Anyway, Gene was heroic in his action to save his house and belongings. He simply walked through the crowd calmly saying, "The party's over." He kept repeating this and, in just a few minutes, the house was empty except for his daughter and us.
Not one argument from anyone, the crowd got in their cars and left. I was astounded. And I was glad I wasn't out on the roads.
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