460 DEAR HACKER

460 DEAR HACKER

So I want to say thanks to the people I met that day for allowing me to share in what was later considered Computer Underground his- tory. While we have since all gone our separate ways, I still look at the 2600 buttons and pamphlets (I still have all of the stuff given out that day), and feel proud that I was part of a group that helped lay another brick of what was, and still is, becoming the building of the computer revolutionists’ structure. Some call us criminals, some call us heroes, but whatever you call us, there is no denying that because of us, computer systems have and continue to become more secure.

We are the watchers of Big Brother, and, because of us, he can never get a good night’s sleep. I will remember you all.

Logging off, The Hunter

Thanks for writing and remembering this important anniversary. A lot of us remem- ber the magic of that first meeting and hope that the spirit remains strong at the many meetings we now have.

Dear 2600:

I don’t know if you guys are that interested in this or not, but I thought if anyone should know, it would be you.

I was looking at a website of funny answering machine messages, and one of them gave a U.S. Army hotline: 1-800-CALL-SPY. I called the number and it was pretty funny; it sounded way too serious to

be real, you know? Well, this was last November, and I forgot about it for a while.

Then I went home for Christmas break and I told my little brother to call the number for a laugh. He noticed that the beep on their an- swering machine played “Fur Elise” by Beethoven. I noticed that my answering machine in my dorm room played the same thing, and I knew how to change the outgoing message from another phone, as long as I knew the code. The BellSouth company programs the same default code into all the machines: 6-8-9. You’re supposed to change the code when you buy the machine, but most people are too lazy.

A C U LT U R E O F R E B E L S

I waited about another week, and finally had to try it. I called the number, tried the code, and it worked. I just said, “Hello,” with a Russian accent. But then I went back to school and my friends found out about it. We screwed with the hotline for about two weeks before anyone noticed. Then they changed it back every day, and I changed it back every night. If I wanted to, I could have changed the code, but

I didn’t want to get into trouble — this was the first phone prank I’d ever done.

So finally, they wised up and changed the code. I quit messing with it, although I tried a few codes, just in case they were as stupid as

I thought they were. About two weeks later, the school I attend got

a call from the FBI, and they were looking for me. All they did was take away my phone and made me write a letter of apology. I never mailed the letter.

It turned out that the number was a direct line to the FBI, and the machine was at Fort Meade, Maryland.... I was lucky something worse didn’t happen as a result of my own stupidity in being traced. But still, we all got a kick out of leaving Russian obscenities on the FBI’s outgoing message.

This supposedly made the TV news in Indianapolis, and the number was permanently blocked from the Ball State University switchboard. And the FBI is still using the same two-bit answering machine.

Just thought you might like to know. S

Yeah, let’s leave confidential information about spies on an answering machine with a default three-digit code. Brilliant, guys. But somehow it’s people like us who are defined as threats to national security.