The Atari below is more of a computer than a video game system, so yes, I took some liberties with the title. — Dan

In 1956, televangelist Jerry Falwell debuted The Old-Time Gospel Hour, a radio and television program featuring his church’s Sunday morning service. For the first few decades, The Gospel Hour was something few had heard of, but in the 1980s, it exploded in popularity. And with that popularity came a lot of money. The Gospel Hour, as a religious institution, was a tax-exempt charity that people could donate to, and Falwell solicited donations from his viewers far and wide. According to the Washington Post, the Hour raised more than $90 million in the 1980s alone.

But not everyone was a fan of Falwell and his TV broadcast. Some objected to what he was preaching — over the decades, Falwell featured segregationists on the show, objected to public schooling (being secular and, in his view, promoted atheism), and denounced LGBT communities. But beyond Falwell’s beliefs and politics, there was another, more practical concern voiced by many: Falwell, they argued, took advantage of older Americans, who believed that donating to Falwell’s church was a religious imperative.

Which is why a guy named Edward Johnson hacked an Atari.

Johnson was living in the Atlanta area in the mid-1980s when he discovered that his mother, Mary, was a big fan of Falwell — and ready to be a very generous one at that. She had already sent Falwell hundreds of dollars, and was about to send him a lot, lot more. As the Washington Post reported in early 1986, “After one rip-roaring TV sermon, [Edward] says, his 68-year-old mother, Mary Johnson of Sylvester, was ready to sign over the family's 150 acres in south Georgia.” This wasn’t all that unusual for Mary Johnson — per Edward, “she once bought two Singer sewing machines from different salesmen in the same week” — but her willingness to fork over so much cash gave Edward pause. He believed that Falwell and his ministry were taking advantage of Mary’s age and good graces, and that she wasn’t the only such victim.

Edward Johnson took action. He wrote to The Gospel Hour asking them to stop accepting donations from his mother. He complained to the Federal Communications Commission, arguing that the show was going beyond the scope of what a church service should be doing. And he wrote to his senators and representatives complaining about the same. But it was to no avail — so Johnson cooked up his own solution.

In April of 1985, Johnson took a $200 Atari home computer and turned it into a phone-dialing machine. Specifically, per Time, he “programmed his Atari to dial Falwell’s [toll-free] number every 30 seconds.” After 30 seconds of silence, the Atari would hang up the phone and dial again. The computer would repeat this 24 hours a day, seven days a week. And because the company running the toll-free hotline paid for the phone charges, each time the Atari called Falwell’s number, Falwell had to pay the bill.

As 1985 came to a close, Johnson caused Falwell to ring up an estimated $500,000 in phone fees. Additionally, Falwell claimed that, via the Orlando Sentinel, “Johnson’s trickery cost his ministry at least $1 million in pledges from followers who could not break through the computerized barricade” — the line was always busy because of Johnson’s Atari. It took eight months before Falwell’s ministry was able to track Johnson down. Per the New York Times, that’s when his phone company threatened to pull his phone service if he didn’t — and also threatened to get the authorities involved. Johnson compiled with the request.

Today’s Bonus fact: When the original iPhone came out in 2007, you could only use one on AT&T’s network, and AT&T was very transparent about what activities caused you to incur a charge on that network — comically transparent, in fact. AT&T sent customers an itemized log of everything they did — every call, yes, but also every text message and any other data packet that went over their network. Customers received bills that weren’t exceptionally high, but they were exceptionally thick, often running hundreds of pages long. The “300-page iPhone bill,” as it became jokingly known, was phased out within a month or two — AT&T gave customers the option of a small bill, low on the details, and then made that the default for residential customers shortly thereafter.

From the Archives: Why Do I Keep Getting Calls from Slovenia?!: I don’t anymore, but in 2019, I did, and it was a scam that would have negatively impacted my phone bill had I called back.

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And thanks! — Dan