The Midnight Roll

I’ve never thrown a single roll of toilet paper in my life, but I did sit in a car one time, white-knuckled and nervous, while a few high school buddies transformed a front yard into what looked like a winter wonderland in the middle of a cool October evening.

They called themselves The Rolling Rebels, and their getaway vehicle was an old blue Volkswagen that had zero acceleration and sputtered as it rolled down the roads of Middle Georgia. When my friends invited me to join in the toilet papering festivities, I politely declined. The vision of my parents’ disappointed faces and the words “grounded for life” kept me firmly planted in the Volkswagen’s backseat. So there I sat, heart pounding, while my friends launched roll after roll over trees and cars, snickering quietly in the darkness.

During my high school years in the 1980s, The Rolling Rebels rolled many a yard with toilet paper. This wasn’t like streaking, mooning, or egging a car or house—no nakedness required, no property damage, no sticky cleanup that required a pressure washer, no violence. It was just a harmless prank, right? A way to remind others that they were thinking of them—like a Hallmark greeting card.

But here’s the thing: Times have changed. Back in the 1980s, when I was sweating bullets in that blue Volkswagen, the biggest risk was maybe getting caught by a sleepy homeowner in their bathrobe. Today? Kids risk getting shot if a homeowner sees intruders on their property. And I understand that in some communities, rollers can be fined—a lot! And the cost of toilet paper these days also makes the late-night activity an expensive endeavor.

And there’s this: Most of us have cameras surrounding the perimeter of our houses that pick up the tiniest of movements. The kids rolling houses today can’t fly under the radar and avoid detection as easily as they did back in the day. Ring doorbells, motion sensors, and neighborhood watch apps have made the ancient art of yard rolling much more difficult. Still, it’s not impossible, as proven some mornings when I drive through town and witness the white streamers dangling from branches of trees like ghosts.

There’s something nostalgic about remembering those simpler times. My friends rolled the homes of friends mostly, though they even rolled a few yards belonging to folks who weren’t exactly besties, as my memory recalls. I think they even wore T-shirts with the words “Rolling Rebels” on them, but I wonder if my mind is misremembering that fact.

For those curious about the technique, I think this is how they did it: Step 1: They gathered a crew of 3 to 5 people who could run fast and keep a secret.

Step 2: They stocked up on cheap toilet paper.

Step 3: They dressed in dark clothing like ninjas.

Step 4: They got the rolls started, unrolling about a two-foot length of paper from each roll before hurling the roll.

Step 5: They used high, arching lobs with backspins so the rolls unraveled as they flew through the air.

Step 6: They worked quietly. Step 7: They never bragged about their handiwork around people they couldn’t trust.

Looking back, standing in the hallways of Warner Robins High School before homeroom and hearing my friends recount their midnight rolling adventures are some of my fondest memories from high school days. But times have changed, and what was once considered innocent fun now comes with real risks—legal and otherwise. Again, kids, don’t try this at home in this day and age.