My Quaker grandmother and Quaker mother were outspoken about the evils of alcohol. Grandmother lectured me ever summer I visited her in Sandy Spring, Maryland, the Quaker farming community where my family lived for many generations,
"Thee will live a happier and healthier life -- if Thee does not drink alcohol."
My mother demonstrated her Quaker belief by living an alcohol free life in the suburban town of Montclair, New Jersey, where her Episcopalian husband was born and raised. In my father's family alcohol was a daily part of life.
My father managed to bridge these conflicting family beliefs. He did not drink at home. However, he participated in the pleasures of alcohol outside our home in his daily life and in his business activities. Business entertainment required him to socialize and host many persons who expected an alcoholic drink at lunch or dinner.
My mother would not serve alcohol at home. However, at large family parties or even at neighborhood functions, she would not object if neighbors brought alcohol to these occasions -- or if my father provided a Christmas Punch, wine or champaign to celebrate something special.
If I detected at a party that someone had difficulty walking a straight line I often pointed this out to my mother. She would excuse this behavior and give me some explanation like --
"Roger, Thee must not be judgmental. Mr. Williams served in the war. He "was gassed."
I did not understand what "gassed" meant - except that it seemed to be a military term and must occur in wartime? I never observed similar balance problems in Sandy Spring, so I attributed it to the fact very few Quakers serve in the military.
My father encouraged me not to drink alcohol, and he offer me one thousand dollars if I abstained until twenty-one. He did not drink alcohol for one month every year, to show himself he could stop drinking when he wanted.
My downfall came at the age of eighteen in 1952 when I attended Harvard College. The entire freshman class was invited to Harvard the week before classes began. It was a week of socializing and some binge drinking that preceded our academic activities.
My Class of 1956 was the last class to be given this traditional freshman party by Harvard College. It was called "THE SMOKER". Our freshman class assembled at Sanders Theater in Memorial Hall. We were addressed by the Dean of Students.
"Look to your left..... Now, look to your right. One of the three of you WILL NOT be here to graduate in four years!"
I looked to my left and saw my roommate Dick Bertman, a graduate of Brookline High Public School. I looked to my right and saw my Choate classmate and friend Roy Shulman. I assumed Dick was the likely one not to be here and to whom the Dean directed my attention.
Next came a short advisory speech from the Dean. He asked us to open ourselves to new experiences and new ideas. He suggested we get to know as many people as possible. His speech was followed by a new experience -- an artistic and revealing dance perform by "ROSE LA ROSE", the stripper from the OLD HOWARD, who had been hired by Harvard for this "SMOKER" event. Rose demonstrated her unique skills by disrobing to traditional music.
Her dance was followed by a beer drinking contest. All contestants climbed two flights of stairs behind Sanders Theater stage to a balcony high above that stage. We were each given a very large cup filled with beer. At the signal from the Dean we were encouraged to drink the beer as rapidly as possible. I recall spilling most of my beer down my shirt and not winning a place into the final round of this competition. However, free beer kegs were provided in the large adjacent hall and we proceeded to socialize for the rest of that evening. I became throughly exhausted. It was the first time I heard the expression -- "I'm wasted ! -- Are you?"
I recalled my grandmother's admonition. Was I happier? Was I healthier? By the time classes began all hope of receiving my one thousand reward from my father was gone and I considered myself an experienced alcoholic drinker.
Four years later I witnessed Dick and Roy's graduation. I remembered the Dean's warning. I was the one!
"Thee will live a happier and healthier life -- if Thee does not drink alcohol."
My mother demonstrated her Quaker belief by living an alcohol free life in the suburban town of Montclair, New Jersey, where her Episcopalian husband was born and raised. In my father's family alcohol was a daily part of life.
My father managed to bridge these conflicting family beliefs. He did not drink at home. However, he participated in the pleasures of alcohol outside our home in his daily life and in his business activities. Business entertainment required him to socialize and host many persons who expected an alcoholic drink at lunch or dinner.
My mother would not serve alcohol at home. However, at large family parties or even at neighborhood functions, she would not object if neighbors brought alcohol to these occasions -- or if my father provided a Christmas Punch, wine or champaign to celebrate something special.
If I detected at a party that someone had difficulty walking a straight line I often pointed this out to my mother. She would excuse this behavior and give me some explanation like --
"Roger, Thee must not be judgmental. Mr. Williams served in the war. He "was gassed."
I did not understand what "gassed" meant - except that it seemed to be a military term and must occur in wartime? I never observed similar balance problems in Sandy Spring, so I attributed it to the fact very few Quakers serve in the military.
My father encouraged me not to drink alcohol, and he offer me one thousand dollars if I abstained until twenty-one. He did not drink alcohol for one month every year, to show himself he could stop drinking when he wanted.
My downfall came at the age of eighteen in 1952 when I attended Harvard College. The entire freshman class was invited to Harvard the week before classes began. It was a week of socializing and some binge drinking that preceded our academic activities.
My Class of 1956 was the last class to be given this traditional freshman party by Harvard College. It was called "THE SMOKER". Our freshman class assembled at Sanders Theater in Memorial Hall. We were addressed by the Dean of Students.
"Look to your left..... Now, look to your right. One of the three of you WILL NOT be here to graduate in four years!"
I looked to my left and saw my roommate Dick Bertman, a graduate of Brookline High Public School. I looked to my right and saw my Choate classmate and friend Roy Shulman. I assumed Dick was the likely one not to be here and to whom the Dean directed my attention.
Next came a short advisory speech from the Dean. He asked us to open ourselves to new experiences and new ideas. He suggested we get to know as many people as possible. His speech was followed by a new experience -- an artistic and revealing dance perform by "ROSE LA ROSE", the stripper from the OLD HOWARD, who had been hired by Harvard for this "SMOKER" event. Rose demonstrated her unique skills by disrobing to traditional music.
Her dance was followed by a beer drinking contest. All contestants climbed two flights of stairs behind Sanders Theater stage to a balcony high above that stage. We were each given a very large cup filled with beer. At the signal from the Dean we were encouraged to drink the beer as rapidly as possible. I recall spilling most of my beer down my shirt and not winning a place into the final round of this competition. However, free beer kegs were provided in the large adjacent hall and we proceeded to socialize for the rest of that evening. I became throughly exhausted. It was the first time I heard the expression -- "I'm wasted ! -- Are you?"
I recalled my grandmother's admonition. Was I happier? Was I healthier? By the time classes began all hope of receiving my one thousand reward from my father was gone and I considered myself an experienced alcoholic drinker.
Four years later I witnessed Dick and Roy's graduation. I remembered the Dean's warning. I was the one!
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