True Crime Campfire - Listen Now: The Apology Line

Episode Date: September 18, 2023

For fifteen years you could call a private number in Manhattan and anonymously apologize for anything. It was called The Apology Line. This is the story of the phone line and the man at the other end who became consumed by his own creation. He was known as “Mr. Apology.” As thousands of callers flooded the line, confessing to everything from shoplifting to adultery, drug dealing, to murder, Mr. Apology realized he couldn’t just listen. He had to do something, even if it meant risking everything. Prime Members, you can binge all seven episodes of The Apology line exclusively on Amazon Music. Download the Amazon Music app today: www.amazon.com/AL_TCCBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/true-crime-campfire--4251960/support.

If there was a phone number you could call to apologize for anything and no one would know, what would you confess? The apology line is a podcast about Alan Bridge, who posted flyers around New York City asking people to anonymously apologize for their crimes. Not to God, not to the police, but to his answering machine. Within hours, the calls started coming in, people apologizing for stealing, adultery, lying, and even murder. Alan got dozens of calls from people claiming to be killers, but one stood out, Richie. He was deliberate, measured, and his calls would leave Alan wondering if he really was the serial killer he claimed to be. That is, until Richie offered to provide proof of his crimes.

Unable to just listen anymore, Alan knew he had to try and stop him. I'm about to play you a clip from the apology line. While you're listening, make sure to follow the Amazon Music exclusive podcast The Apology Line in the Amazon Music app. Download the app today. It was early 1981 and I was with a group of friends

at a loft in New York City. It was a dinner party with I think about six, maybe eight of us around the big table. Doug Welch was there too. Through the huge windows, we could see the lights of the Empire State Building.

Rosary candles flickered on a curved bookcase that separated the living room from the bedroom. These gatherings always went late. We were all artists, so we talked about our work, politics, and how we were surviving in the city. The host was a man named Alan. Toward the end of the dinner, as it was wrapping up, Alan just sort of casually said,

would anyone like to hear the latest that came in today from Apology? Apology was Allen's newest project. Doug's girlfriend Carrie vaguely remembered it had something to do with people calling a phone line? Alan held up a cassette tape. Alan was standing and sort of gesticulating, and yeah, he was excited. And we all kind of said, well, sure. Alan walked over to his cassette player,

popped in the tape, and turned out the lights. First, we listened to what every person who called Allen's phone line would hear, an outgoing message in Alan's deadpan voice. This is apology. Apology is not associated with the police or any other organization, but rather as a way for you to tell people what you have done wrong and how you feel about it.

All statements received by apology will be played back to the public, so please do not identify yourself. Talk for as long as you want. Then, we heard the voices of callers who left messages. I witnessed the crime. reported down in the men's room at 10 station, someone being forced in the booth and being robbed. I feel very bad without not reporting it. Bye. I'm really sorry because I'm white, female, and rich.

I would like to stop feeling the way I do about the blacks and the Puerto Ricans and the Chinese and the Jap. I just wanted to say I'm sorry to all those poor souls out there that wake up black and blue the next day after I beat the shit out of them. I've got not really an apology to me. Except to one person, who's my lover, who's listening on an extension. And I'm sorry that I've made his life difficult. To him, I love you. Max, I apologize. Around the dinner table, no one moved.

Everything became quiet except the tapes. The calls kept coming and became more disturbing. Well, I guess, you know, to the 15 or 20 people that I've stolen money from and mugged and robbed and frightened. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't have to say it 15 times, doing it. This last caller wasn't like the others.

Let's see, there's Henry. I killed Henry. He was a neighbor. He was a classmate of mine. Around the table, the mood suddenly changed. The atmosphere in the room just shifted from this convivial, you know, post-dinner contentment to abject horror as this almost this incubus sort of entered the room through the speaker and was actually in the room with us.

This is a fantastic service that you're doing. It was a very tortured yet dangerous sounding person. The world would be full of people like me if we just knew it. All we had to do was just say, I'm sorry, and everything is all right. Hearing that voice and watching that light just blinking, blinking, blinking red. And kind of wanting it to say, I'm sorry. stop. Alan got up and turned the lights back on.

He looked around, waiting for a response. I just remember us all looking over our empty wine glasses at each other with our jaws hanging open. No one could say a thing. I think we all just silently put on our coats, and we just sort of filed out quietly and said, thank you very much. Doug and Kerry were quiet on the wall. to the subway.

Once we were on the train, I just remember looking at every, all these faces and wondering, is that that sicko who was just, you know, just confessing everything to us? You know, it wasn't something you listen to and then just move on. I couldn't move on either. Alan's art project was starting to take on a life of its own, and it would eventually take over his life and mine.

Mine. Hey, Prime members, you can binge all seven episodes of the Apology Line exclusively on Amazon Music. Download the Amazon Music app today.