Laboratory SubjectT h e U niversity of C alifornia’s agricu ltu ral college of­

fers a course in beer b rew ing in its m in iatu re , experi­m ental brew ery. T h is is said to be the first such course offered by any m ajor educational institu tion in the U nited States. H ow ever, it is no t specified w h at happens to the finished product of the plant.

"If You Don't Drink and Carouse—"Judy M errill, the A laska Songbird, best-know n singer

in the forty-nin th state, is a nondrink ing , nonsm oking, churchgoing M orm on girl. She has been in A laska sing­in g for fifteen years.

“ I stayed up here because I like the country and be­cause the pay is big,” says Miss M errill. “If you d on ’t d rin k and carouse, anyone can m ake good m oney in this coun try .”

Liquor in National ParksT h e spotlight of public opinion is being focused on

the selling and serving of liquor in hotels and lodges o perating in the A m erican national parks, w ith the view of stricter controls. U nder present regulations the D e­p artm en t of the In terior has no jurisdiction over the operation of hotels, motels, or lodges in the parks, which operate independently of the G overnm ent.

Beauty and the BeastA weekly new spaper, the Dial, in Boscobel, W isconsin,

suggests tha t flower seeds be sold righ t in the beer cans w hen beer is so ld ; then beauty w ould spring up wherever an em pty can is tossed. M aybe then each brew ery could have its ow n choice of flowers to com bine prom otion w ith beauty.

How Profits Should Be SpentW h en the L iquo r C ontrol Board reported a $66,000,000

profit in O ntario , C anada, the m edical section of the C om m ittee on Alcoholism of the M edico-Legal Society of T o ron to suggested how some of the m oney should be spent, in a $250,000 center for com pulsory treatm ent of alcoholics and other addicts. A bout 15,000 arrests are m ade in T oronto annually for drunkenness.

One in ThirteenIn the U nited States one in every thirteen m en twenty

or m ore years of age is an alcoholic, says J. E . L aughlin , p lan t protection m anager of Firestone T ire and Rubber C om pany, A kron, O hio.

Twenty-Five-Year Record

The real record since prohibition was repealed is quite different from that which is generally publicized. Some outstanding facts are these, noted by the Ameri­can Business Men's Research Foundation:

1. Crimes induced by or directly related to the drinking of alcoholic beverages have increased 28.6 per cent in twenty-five years. Arrests for drunkenness have increased from 1,490 to 1,939 per 100,000 popu­lation; arrests for drunken driving have soared 207 per cent.

2. Insanity attributable to alcohol has increased three times more than other mental diseases.

3. Poverty, measured in numbers of dependent children, has increased, as shown by the fact that the number of dependent-children cases has doubled, ris­ing from 15 per 100,000 of population to 30.

4. Alcoholism has increased. The number of those who cannot drink unless they drink to drunkenness has increased 68 per cent since repeal. In 1934 there were 2,808 alcoholics per 100,000 adult Americans; in 1956 there were 4,718.

5. Taxes have increased as a result of crime, traffic problems, and dependency caused by increased con­sumption of alcoholic drinks. An official Massachusetts study concludes that gross alcoholic beverage taxes pay only one eighth of the expenses the governments and people of Massachusetts incur through the use of intoxicants.

6. Fatal motor-vehicle accidents involving drinking drivers have greatly increased. Alcohol-involved cases are estimated by safety authorities to have risen to 50 per cent of the total. Drinking reduces the usefulness of auto- and road-safety precautions and driver-educa- tion programs.

7. Economic waste has soared. During the twenty- five years since repeal, $181,900,000,000 has been spent by the American public on alcoholic beverages. This is more than twice what we have spent on schools.

8. Social waste is reflected in the loss from useful life of nearly 5,000 alcoholics out of every 100,000 adults, plus others who have to take care of alcoholics or who suffer because of the alcoholics' afflictions.

HAVEYOU

HEARD?

LISTENA Journal of Better

CJ f Ä ’- " Mng

M A Y -JU N E , 1959 V o lum e 12 N u m b e r 3 r .

OUR COVERS in g er, actor, au th o r, fa th er,

student—one of the most a m a z ­in g , v e rsa tile ca re e rs in m odern tim es is that of Pat Boone. In a d a y w h en m an y en terta in m en t figures a re ju dg ed b y their fluid ca p a c ity an d their close scrap es w ith the la w , Pat h as b ased his success on a d e lib e ra te em p h asis in the op p osite d irectio n .

A fa m ily m a n , he is proud of his a ttractive w ife S h ir le y and their four little d au g h te rs . N e i­th er his ca re e r , nor even his stud ies a t C o lu m b ia U n iversity w h en he w a s nursing h is am bition to be a tea ch er, h a v e been a l­low ed to in terfere w ith his hom e joys.

"L isten 's" co ver p icture—an in­fo rm al in te rlu d e in a fu ll d a y —is by Lloyd S h e a re r for To p ix , N ew Y ork .

PHOTO CREDITSP ages 18, 19, T opix , Shearer-T opix , Fein- g ersh -P ix , E rn es t R eshovsky-P ix ; pages 5, 6, 7, P hiladelphia C onvention and V isi­to r ’s B ureau of the C ham ber of Com ­m erce; page 11, T he C hris tian Science P ub lish ing Society, G ordon N. Converse ; pages 12, 13, P ho tos D om inique D arbois- D alm a ; page 15, Reni P h o to s ; page 28, H a rry J. M ille r; page 33, G ene A hrens.

ARTICLES \C om m ents on C o c k t a i l s ...................................E d ito ria l 4C ity o n the M e n d .........................................H e rb e r t Ford 5A B e tte r W a y .........................................M adeline G eo rge 14T een T a l k ......................................................Y o u th P ane l 15N a tio n a l C om m ittee Form ed in A u stra lia . . . . 20T a k in g th e " W in e ” O u t o f " W in e ry ” ' V

Stanley M. Jefferson 21B ullets fo r the P u s h e r ................ M ike T h o rn e 23G o lden G u id e p o s t s T itu s A. Frazee 28

SPECIAL FEATURESJu d g e H a rr iso n ’s H o n o r Class . . Jo h n P . O ’K eefe 8T he Christian Science M onitor . D u an e V alen try 11O pen O p iu m M a r k e t ..................P ic tu re F ea tu re 12A n E m pty C h a i r .............................................................................25

PERSONALITIESE rw in C anham — E d ito r . . . . D u an e V alen try 11P a t B oone— S i n g e r .............................T am ara A ndreeva 17A m os R. R eed— S u p erin ten d e n t M arion R u b in s te in 29 M ike P eppe— S w im m in g Coach

W a rre n N . W itte n b e rg 36REGULAR FEATURES

H ave Y o u H e a r d ? ......................................................................... 2W o rld V i e w ...................................................................................20 'T h e V oice o f S c i e n c e .................................................................22N o te F rom H i s t o r y .......................................................................25Q uestions and A nsw ers . . R . W . S pa ld ing , M .D . 27"L isten ” to O u r R e a d e r s ...........................................................32

STORIES AF a th e r’s D ay— on Skid R ow . M ickee P ierce Cayer 10 E ngine T ro u b le . . . C ropley A ndrew P h illip s 24

POETRYPoem s W ith a P u r p o s e ................ Listen A u th o rs 33

MISCELLANEOUSK now T h em by T h e ir E y e s ! ....................................................... 9K eep Y o u r M oto r G o in g . . . . Sylvia E. C la rk 34Jam es D ean ’s Last C a r .................................................................28

&

V

L IS T E N — bim onthly journal of b e tte r living, p ub ­lished in th e in terests of scientific education for the prevention of alcoholism and n arco tics addiction. E n ­dorsed and utilized nationally by N arcotics E duca­tion , Inco rpo rated .

Second-class m ail priv ileges authorized a t M oun­ta in V iew , California.Y early subscrip tion , U n ited S ta tes and its posses­sions, C anada, M exico, and P an-A m erican U nion, $2 .00; single copy, 35 cen ts ; to o ther countries tak in g ex tra postage, $2.25 ; single copy, 40 cents.W hen change of address is desired , notify the P a ­cific P ress P ub lish ing A ssociation. P lease send th e old address as well as the new , and allow four weeks for change to become effective.C opyrigh t, 1959, by th e A m erican T em perance S o­ciety , W . A. Scharffenberg, E xecutive Secretary.

E d ito ria l O ffice: 6840 E aste rn A ve., N .W ., W ash ing ton 12. D .C .E d i to r : F ran c is A. Soper E dito ria l A ss is ta n t; Sue T aylor B akerC irculation M an ager: H . K. C hristm an E ditorial, S e c re ta ry : M uriel C hristiansenSafes ahd Pfom otio ijl• 'Jesse p . Gibson * ' *EditdriahXlpnsultants^ fW ln ton H . Beaven, P h .D ., D irecto r, In s ti tu te of Scientific S tudiesW . L . H alverson, M .D ., D .P .H ., F o rm er D irector of P ublic H ea lth , CaliforniaM atthew H ill, W ash ing ton S tate Suprem e C ourtA ndrew C. Ivy , P h .D ., M .D ., D .S c., L L .D ., U niversity of Illino is, C hairm an of the N ational Com m ittee for th e Prevention of A lcoholism

Joseph T . Z otto li, Boston M unicipal C ourtCyril B. Courville, M .D ., D .N .B ., M .Sc., D irecto r, Cajal L ab o ra to ry of N europatho logyGeorge T . H ard ing , M .D ., D .N .B ., F .A .C .P ., P residen t and M edical D irector, H ard ing S an itarium and H osp ital L aurence A. Sensem an, M .D ., D .N .B ., F .A .C .P ., D irecto r, F u lle r M em orial H osp ita lPublication Office, Pacific Press P ub lish ing A ssociation, M ounta in V iew , California Office E d ito r: R ichard H . U tt

3

commentson

cocktails

M o r e tru th than poetry is found in the title of the pop­u lar en terta inm en t p rogram today, “People A re F u n n y .” A nd one definition of “fu n n y ” is “absurd .” Especially does this seem to be true w hen it comes to this m atter of cocktails.

If everyone w ho attends cocktail parties, or gives them , w ere dow nrigh t tru th fu l, it probably w ould be virtually impossible to find anyone w ho really likes such func­tions. Yet they go on.

“G hastly businesses,” Elsa M axwell says of them in w hat has becom e a classic description of cocktail parties. “ I cannot bear them . I d on ’t give them and I rarely go to them ,” she continues. A n d then she concludes, “Cock­tail parties are boring, dull, and inefficient—the m ost m iserable form of en terta in ing there is, and also the cheapest. I avoid them like the plague.” Even allow ing for exaggeration by ebullient Elsa, these are graphic com ­m ents on a prevalent A m erican custom .

But m any agree w ith Miss M axwell—party-givers and professional people alike. F o r exam ple, Chicago socialite M rs. F . Sewall G ardner observes, “I don ’t like cocktail parties, and I d on ’t th in k m en do. . . . A ll you do at a cocktail party is to stand u p for hours, first on one foot and then the o ther.”

“I t’s a lazy way of en tertain ing ,” says M rs. W . Crosby G raham . “T hose huge parties given w here you pay back all your social obligations are aw ful; I used to give them m yself.”

A no ther party-giver, M rs. J. Rockefeller P rentice, de­clares, “I enjoy people too m uch, and at a cocktail party you just never get to sit dow n and have a conversation w ith any one person.”

If the custom of coc.ktail parties tells ope th ing m ore than another about m odern society, it is the fact tha t peo­ple today are conform ists. T o pu t the tru th b luntly— babies conform ; they im itate. W h en m atu rity comes along, people are expected to become individuals, to be independent in their ow n right.

M ost cocktail parties are given sim ply because some­one else did it first. T h a t, in fact, is a m ajor reason why m any people, especially young, im m ature people, even d rink at all.

As D r. H arrison Evans, O hio State psychiatrist, ob­serves, “M any people today are em otionally unstable and m entally im m ature, and a cocktail in the hand is often a substitute for a thought in the head.” C om pliance w ith a social habit such as the use of alcoholic beverages, w hich the average person know s to be injurious to him , is indeed á sign of im m aturity , on the part of the host as w ell as of the guest.

O ne encouraging om en in our social w orld is the ris­ing revolt against the cocktail party. T ru e , such a revolt is slow, and at tim es seems alm ost im perceptible, bu t it is there. T h e fact that it is there is an indication of devel­op ing m aturity on the part of those w ho recognize the cocktail party for w hat it is.

W h a t our society needs today is a m ore m atu re atti­tude on the part of its social leaders, m ore individuality . T oo m any have fallen into the groove—a m ore descrip­tive w ord is “ru t.” In fact, it w ould be good for all of us, party-giver or not, to be m ore ourselves, to g row up, to become m entally and em otionally m ature.

Cocktails and cocktail parties do not help in tha t direction.

City on the MendHerbert Ford

— ..... 'jf'Zi ' 1

«* II>. Il téÜ -

«A » I • *

Vigorously meeting its problems head on, Phil­adelphia strives to claim once again with full pride the title "City of Brotherly Love."

Ph ilad e lp h ia 's C ity H a ll to w er g low s a t night, s ilhouetting W illiam Penn standing atop its p innac le .

T O A passenger on one of the Pennsylvania R ailroad’s crack “K eystone” or “Congressional” trains as it whips no rth along the D elaw are R iver tow ard N ew Y ork

City or speeds south tow ard W ash ing ton, D .C ., the city of Ph iladelphia seems a d irty , red-brick sort of blur.

T h a t b lu r isn’t too far from reality!C ram m ed onto about one hundred thirty square miles

of the once-fertile P iedm ont Plateau, alongside the broad, snak ing D elaw are, live some 2,200,000 Philadelphia citi­zens, m any of them in crow ded, ancient buildings whose once-bright red-brick fronts have long since tu rned a g rim y gray. T h e ir cars get forever tangled in tigh t traffic jam s on narrow streets w hich are continually blocked by huge parked trucks. T h e ir som etim es rusty w ater supply is under alm ost constant public criticism . T h eir city ad­m in istration seldom seems to get its job done righ t or on tim e, and they never seem to lick their decades-old problem of air pollution.

In short, P h iladelphia is a city w ith problem s.B ut the problem s tha t bo ther the city m ost are not those

tha t revolve around traffic jam s and bad w ater. T h e prob­lem tha t m ost Philadelph ians are bo thered about is crime. It isn’t only bothersom e, it is d o w nrig h t frightening.

“Yes, sir, we do have lots of crim e,” a cab driver as­serted to m e d u rin g a ride in to South Philadelphia. I t ’s real scary, the k inds of crim es w e have here, too. D idja read in the paper yesterday about tha t little girl tha t was slashed?—all the way from her ear to her m outh . T ook a

h u nd red stitches in her face, the docs d id . T h a t’s inh u m an for a person to do a th in g like tha t.”

As he collected his fare the cabby cautioned, “Better w atch yourself in this neighborhood. T h e re ’s been some ‘headings’ dow n this way lately. W hatever you do, d o n ’t carry tha t shiny cam era outside your coat on these streets after d ark .”

Statistically speaking, crim e in P hiladelph ia isn’t any worse than in some o ther large cities of the U nited States. I t is low er than in some, b u t still there is plenty of crime. In the first three quarters of 1958, police arrested 2,499 persons for “serious” crimes. In 1957 m ore than 2,000 boys and girls under eighteen w ere arrested for crim es. A t least twenty-five juvenile gangs roam Philadelph ia streets. T h e city arrests about 1,500 teen-agers classified as “habit­ual d ru n k s” each year. Recently slashings, slicings, and stabbings seem to have become popular m ethods of crime. Shootings and “headings”—using any heavy object w ith w hich to strike a victim over the head—also com m and an appalling total.

P a rt of the problem involves the hand ling of the law at Federal, state, and local governm ent levels, w hich seem to favor the crim inal. Philadelph ia’s hard -w ork ing Police Com m issioner T hom as J. G ibbons discloses tha t 216 hardened crim inals w ith a total of 3,317 arrests are at liberty in the city to prey upon the public w hile law-en­forcem ent authorities are virtually powerless.

G ibbons b lam ed this startling fact on the Pennsylvania

5

<1 •>parole system, the laxity of p robation enforcem ent, and the practice of m agistrates and judges w ho “frequen tly” discharge, fine, and suspend sentences of defendants charged w ith all types of crim es. O ne of the persons listed by G ibbons had been arrested 106 tim es; three others, from 61 to 75 tim es each. “These are hardened crim inals,” G ibbons said, “and unless they are pu t away in prisons for good, or fo r long sentences, they w ill continue to p lague the city.”

O ne of G ibbons’s lieutenants on the bluecoat-filled seventh floor of P h iladelph ia’s outdated city hall cited still another p rob lem area of law enforcem ent. “W e have a good cam paign go ing against d ru n ken drivers here,” he said. “B ut it is next to im possible to convict these d ru n k e n people. Before w e can even m ake a charge we m u st have a doctor’s certification th a t the person was d ru n k . A nd w e have to get tha t under alm ost false pretenses. W h a t w e do is to get the doctor to exam ine the m otorist to see if he is in ju red in any way. D u rin g the physical check w e hope the doctor w ill detect the presence of sufficient alcohol in the blood to serve as evidence for a conviction. T h is d runken-d riv ing th in g is really a hard cam paign to m ake stick.”

T h e city’s crim e reports at the end of the th ird quarter of 1958 show a rise in over-all offenses com m itted over the 1957 figure, a lthough actual arrests run slightly be­low the 1957 figure. T h is tends to back up G ibbons’s contention tha t laws are increasingly in favor of the crim inal.

W here, w onder m any Philadelphians, does all the crim e com e from ? T h e city has m ore than 5,500 policem en, and scores of b righ t-red police patro l cars are continually on the m ove. T h e Police D ep artm en t’s Juvenile D ivision even m ain tains a cu rren t and highly helpful file of n ick­nam es used to track dow n youthfu l crim inals. A pprehen­sion of crim inals is usually sw ift and sure in Philadelphia. C om m issioner G ibbons’s departm en t is considered na­tionally as a good one. Y et there is still a large am oun t of crim e in the city.

T h e answ er to this g reat problem lies som ew here out in the miles of the city w here the m illions w ho m ake the statistics are living. It m ay be found in the d irt and filth tha t choke street after street in N o rth Philadelph ia’s “jun g le” w here hundreds of thousands, predom inantly N egroes, live packed together in substandard dw ellings. It m ay be found in the tavern-choked blocks of South Philadelphia, or in the new “jun g le” conditions springing up in W est Philadelphia.

F ortunately for Philadelphia, the answers to the crim e problem and others are being sought. C u rren t city ad­m inistrators, keen to an aroused public, have launched a massive attack, from m any angles, on m ajor city problem s.

M ost of the projects in this attack are in the p lann ing stage o r have been recently im plem ented. B ut some, like the city’s g leam ing new Y outh Study C enter, are living, func tion ing realities.

“W e d on’t have all the answ ers yet,” says C lifford B ren­ner, spokesm an for Philadelph ia’s progressive M ayor R ichardson D ilw orth , “bu t we have m ade considerable progress. A n d you can be sure tha t this adm in istration is no t go ing to spare any effort to b ring to Philadelphia the k in d of good living tha t people have a r ig h t to expect.”

B renner points to several projects, already com pleted or nearly com pleted, as exam ples of good th ings to come. A slick new electronic system is now co-ordinating all traffic signals in the city’s center, and a m ajor traffic study already com pleted has effected new rou ting patterns w hich speed travel across the tow n. “U nfo rtunate ly ,” B renner concedes, “we haven’t yet been able to find out how to w iden our streets. O u r city forefathers just d id n ’t realize tha t we m igh t someday w an t to send cars tw o abreast each way along the streets.”

T h e new Y outh Study C enter is, according to B renner, a m ajor step in help ing Philadelph ia’s young people w ho get in to trouble. A t the C enter, staffs w ith special tra in ­ing to m eet teen-age problem s are m ak in g tangible p rog­ress in reducing the num ber of re tu rn offenders. F or m any years a w ing of the city’s H ouse of C orrection for adults had to be used for juvenile law breakers. T oday, in addition to the Y outh Study C enter, a new $500,000 facility connected w ith the Philadelphia G eneral H ospital is near­ing com pletion and will add to the care of youth.

A lready in progress in m any areas of the city are new D istrict H ealth Centers w hich will relieve the G eneral H ospita l’s load and m ake m edical facilities m ore conven­ien t to a greater num ber of citizens. Tw elve such centers are planned. “W e have two of these already com pleted and are at w ork on the others,” B renner states.

In an effort to take a vigorous blow at juvenile delin ­quency du rin g 1959, the city has tripled the budget of its new ly form ed Y outh Conservation Com m ission, a fro n t­line delinquency-fighting u n it com posed of experts in youth problem s. “T h e com m ission w ill attack delin­quency, juvenile gangs, and related problem s at all stages —in the hom e, on the street, at school,” declares M ayor D ilw orth . “It will w ork closely w ith existing public and private agencies and will recruit a corps of civilian vo lun­teers to assist at the neighborhood level.” C alling for private and public support of the u n it’s seven-point p ro­gram , D ilw orth said, “T h e com m ission m ay no t have all the answers at first, but we believe a vigorous prosecution of its p rogram over a period of tim e w ill do m uch to alleviate a problem that is causing the com m unity in ­creasing concern.”

The k ids go past the b a r to their P h ilad e lp h ia tave rns a re under firela y g ro u n d ; it's just d ow n the a l le y ." fo r foste ring crim e and law lessn ess .

"HUMANITARIAN PROJECTS," INDEED!In an editorial entitled, "Profits and Parsim ony," m arking the

twenty-fifth ann iversary of the repeal of prohibition, the Phila­delphia "Evening Bulletin" quotes from a Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board bulletin showing that the Board, since prohibi­tion, has turned over to the state $ 1 ,0 80 ,00 0 ,0 00 in taxes from liquor sales. The Department of Revenue took in another $375,- 0 00 ,00 0 . Editorialized the "Bulletin":

"Says the Board: 'These sums [brought in through the sale of liquor] totaling $1,4 55 ,00 0 ,0 00 have been made a v a ilab le to the Com m onwealth for the support of its hum anitarian projects!'

"Alcoholics become w hat they are through the ava ilab ility of liquor.

"The state, which makes these huge profits by the sale of liquor, has a recognized duty to try to restore its alcoholics to norm al life. (It can be done.) It m ade a token gesture toward perform ance of this duty in 1953, since which time it has ap­propriated $1 ,7 48 ,00 0 toward that object. The current out­lay toward reform of these customers who buy and consume too much is $ 25 0 ,0 00 a year.

" 'Hum anitarian projects' indeed! As it is officially computed that there are 333 ,450 chronic alcoholics in Pennsylvania, this comes to an expenditure of 75 cents per year on each to bring about a cure. It is less than 5/s of one per cent of the annual profit to the state from the sale of hard drinks.

"The state is not paying enough attention to the end product of its stupendously profitable business." G leam in g , m odernistic build ings rise sk y w a rd in Ph ilad e lp h ia 's Penn Center.

H ow ever, all the problem s aren ’t as easily solved as the sim ple bu ild ing of a new facility or the installing of a new system . O ne proved source of Ph iladelphia crim e is the large num ber of taverns tha t operate in the city. T h e telephone directory lists m ore than 1,000 establish­m ents under the head ing of “T av ern ” alone. Probably several tim es th a t num ber of restaurants and o ther eat­ing places also serve alcoholic beverages. Recently M ayor D ilw o rth declared an open cam paign against “the ex­trao rd inarily heavy concentration of taproom s in the low- incom e areas of o u r city, w hich greatly accentuate the crim e problem .”

W h a t D ilw o rth was referring to are countless blocks th rou g h o u t the city w ith from three to ten bars on one block. T h e m ayor’s contention: So m any bars concen­trated together cannot rem ain economically solvent on the sale of beer and w hisky alone, and they become h ar­bors of gam bling , narcotics sales, and prostitu tion in order to stay in business.

Philadelph ia D istric t A ttorney V ictor H . Blanc added ano ther dim ension to taverns as a source of crim e and im m orality . T hey contribute to a racket in illegitim acy, he said. B lanc contends tha t a “h ard core” of Philadelphia m others receiving public w elfare funds from the city, find ing tha t they receive m ore funds per child, have one child after ano ther ou t of wedlock. “T hese im m oral

m others,” he declares, “true to their conduct, do no t have any regard for the ch ildren they bear. W e find the youngsters ou t on the streets and the m other dow n at the taproom constantly, spending the m oney for herself instead of for the youngsters.

“W e have been checking,” Blanc continues, “and find m any of these m others dow n at the corner taproom buying liquor, p laying the num bers, and buying drinks for the boy friend w ho is go ing to produce another illegitim ate child so they can get m ore m oney out of the public-as­sistance funds.” Philadelphia M agistrate Elias Myers backs Blanc up, saying em phatically tha t he believes laws m ust be abruptly changed to prevent this violation of conduct.

A recent survey of Ph iladelph ia’s G eneral H ospital in ­dicated tha t one fou rth of all patients a t the facility were m aternity cases. O f this g roup one th ird of the m others w ere unw ed. M ore than half the unm arried m others w ere under twenty-one years of age. Forty-five of those w ho were hav ing their second or succeeding child had previously m othered a total of 105 children. M ost of the patients cam e from South Philadelphia, W est Philadel­phia, and N o rth Philadelphia, conceded by m ost to be the problem areas of the city. A lthough these have only 54 per cent of the city’s population , they supplied 90 per cent of the unw ed patients. ( Turn to page ¡¡o.)

7

In ten d ed only for those in jail, or those who should be, one of the w orld’s most unusual groups of students meets each week at Des M oines, Iowa, in —

Judge Harrison’s

HONOR CLASS

JO H N P. O ’K E E F E

In Des M oines, Iowa, each tim e a d ru n k is b rough t to jail he is given a piece of paper read ing :

“If you are one w ho realizes he is powerless over alcohol an d above all else desires to enjoy life, and w an t help w ith your d rin k in g problem , then you are invited to attend a m eeting of an honor group of such persons w ho w an t to q u it d rin k in g .”

T h e notice goes on to tell the d runks tha t the m eeting w ill be held a t 7 p .m . every W ednesday in Judge Ray H arriso n ’s courtroom .

In A pril, 1956, w ith tw o m en attending , Judge H arrison began special classes in his courtroom for those w ith a d rink in g problem w ho w anted to qu it. O ne of those m en hasn’t m issed a m eeting since.

T h e average num ber of arrests per year in Des M oines over a five-year period was 8,679, w ith 5,456 of them for drunkenness. In 1956, the first year of the judge’s classes, arrests for drunkenness w ere 18 per cent few er than the five-year average; and in 1957, 25 per cent few er than tha t average. It costs the taxpayer in Des M oines $10 for every such arrest.

Judge H arrison , a m an in his m iddle fifties w earing dark-rim m ed glasses, has begun a trend tha t is becom ­ing popu lar in several cities in the U nited States, such as C edar Rapids, Chicago, D enver, K ansas City, and M iam i. D enver and C edar Rapids have show n m uch progress w ith their new venture.

“A ll w e can expect is tha t the d ru n k try. W e can’t expect com plete victories. T ry in g is an elem ent of suc­cess.” T h e b ig problem now , according to Judge H a rr i­son, is th a t the courtroom is too small fo r the classes, now num bering from 100 to 150 m em bers at one tim e.

H e even believes in le tting his m en come to the honor class if they are d ru n k , and usually one or tw o such do stagger in. H e feels tha t if a m an is interested enough to come, then he should be able to attend instead of getting into trouble elsewhere. If a policem an arrests a d ru n k on class n igh t, the d ru n k need only to say that he is on his way to Judge H arriso n ’s class and he is taken there.

All alcoholics are w arned by the judge tha t his classes are hard , bu t tha t eventually everyone gets used to them .

T here are no hat collections. Each tim e a person comes to a m eeting, he signs his nam e in a register book.

Judge H arrison may begin a m eeting w ith, “ If any­one here has never been in jail or has done no th in g for w hich he m igh t have gone to jail, w ould you please leave n o w ?” T h is breaks the ice at m eetings, says the judge, especially for new m em bers.

T h en he tells the g roup how good it is to see all of them and inserts, “H i, Rick, g lad to see you back. H av en ’t seen you in qu ite a w hile. Bill, w here have you been ?”

T h e judge tells the group how good it is to be sober and standing alone, and then explains all the benefits derived from not d rink ing . P o in ting to someone, he asks h im to tell the group how he feels since he stopped drink ing .

N o th in g is spared du ring these revelations. A ll eyes are focused on the m an speaking, and m em ories are re­called.

A fter he has told how thank fu l he is to G od and the classes that he has stopped d rink ing , he will sit dow n, and someone else will tell how grateful he is to be a t the m eeting—and sober.

T h u s go the m eetings, w ith the judge g iving his sug­gestions and advice to the group. T hey look up to the judge and appreciate w hat he says, be it favorable or criti­cal. M ilk and doughnuts are served after each m eeting.

Each week the judge w rites a newsy letter to his charges, inc luding hum orous stories, personal items, and announcem ents. M any persons outside the state look forw ard eagerly to getting this letter.

Judge H arrison believes tha t only those who have gone through the stages of alcoholism are qualified really to understand the situation and, therefore, are the ones to rem edy it. Everyone is treated as an equal at his m eet­ings. H e feels that o ther organizations try to pick ou t the ones they feel will m ake it. Also they are too form al d u r­ing their m eetings.

8

A n experienced m an w ith alcoholism , the judge began his d rin k in g w hile a ttend ing D rake College in Des M oines. W h en he graduated from there, voted the “m an m ost likely to succeed,” he w en t to Yale L aw School on a scholarship bu t still continued to d rink .

E ventually he cam e back to D es M oines and became county prosecutor. H e says his d rin k in g grew worse as he got o lder and tha t he was jailed eighteen tim es in Des M oines.

I t was a m an he once prosecuted for d rin k in g who cam e all the w ay from O m aha to help the judge w hen he heard about the judge’s problem . In this way Judge H a rri­son becam e interested in A .A ., and the first m eeting in D es M oines was held in the jud g e’s office w ith five m en attend ing . N o w eight A .A . g roups operate in the city.

Since tha t day sixteen years ago, Judge H arrison hasn’t touched a d rink , bu t still considers him self an alcoholic because he know s tha t if he does take a d rink , w hat he has accom plished th rough the years w ill be destroyed in one m om en t of weakness. F o r all his w ork for these dere­licts in 1949 he received the D es M oines Tribune C om ­m unity Service A w ard.

H e becam e so w rapped up in his honor-class w ork that he canceled his sum m er vacation. T hose he has helped know w h at he m eans w hen he says: “I ’ve been able to stay sober only because of the help I ’ve had from fellows like you.”

As I talked to Judge H arrison , a m an appeared before h im w ho was neatly dressed b u t show ed signs of a n igh t in j ail follow ing a d rink in g bout.

“R obert,” the judge said, “w hen did you have your last d r in k ? ”

“E igh t days ago, Judge. I h ad n ’t had a d rink for eight days and even go t myself a job, b u t I m et some of my friends. I was picked up for ‘boosting’ a cigarette from som eone.”

“ If you w ere w ork ing , w hy d id you have to bum ciga­re ttes?”

“I lost m y m oney w hile d rink ing . I d o n ’t know why I did it, Judge.”

“A re you com ing to the m eeting W ednesday?”“Yes, Judge, I surely w ill.”“A ll right, then, thirty days suspended, and let’s

s tra igh ten up .”M uch relieved, the m an told m e later tha t he had seven

ch ildren , ran g ing from two years to fifteen, and tha t he was separated from his wife. H e told m e he was going to try to stop d rin k in g because he had heard tha t his wife w ould com e back to h im if he w ould qu it. Sincerity show ed in his voice.

L ater an Ind ian w om an was b ro u gh t in, w ho ex­claim ed tha t this was the first tim e in four m onths she had had a d rink . A pleased look spread across her face w hen the judge told her tha t an Ind ian couple were to a ttend the m eeting tha t week. She said she w ould m eet them there. H e r sentence was suspended.

A no ther m an, asked w hy he had missed the last m eet­ing , replied th a t he d idn ’t have the carfare. Judge H a rr i­son was qu ick to reply, “Seems you had enough fare to get in to tow n to d rink .” T h e m an prom ised to attend the nex t m eeting.

Judge H arriso n doesn’t believe in ( Turn to page 34 .)

KnowThem by Their Eyes!"The quickest way to spot a real drunk is by his

eyes," declares Judge Harrison. "There, too, is the best place to spot real recovery."

These photographs, taken of four members of his honor class, demonstrate the truth of the judge's statement. Each of the top pictures is an official photograph taken when the person was arrested for intoxication. Below in each of the four cases is an unofficial photo taken after the same person had been sober more than three months.

.JUKE5 M r W T F s

1 2 3 4 S 87 8 9 10 11 12 13

14 15 16 17 18 19 20p i 22 23 24 25 26 2728 29 30

TH E old m an fought the ligh t that filtered th rough the torn w indow blind. T h e longer he could sleep, the longer he could pu t off facing another day.

F ro m a bar on the street below h im he heard a jukebox g rind in g out a jum ble of sound. T h e heavy beat of d rum s penetrated the th in walls of his room. T h e scaling ceiling vibrated, and bits of plaster fell on his face.

H is eyes strayed slowly to the one p icture on the wall, a cheap picture w ith a cheap calendar attached underneath . T h e day was June 2 1 . T h e date had been carefully circled —F a th e r’s D ay! T ears fell on old cheeks, and he tw isted his head so tha t the sunlight com ing th rough the hole in the blind could no t shine in his eyes.

Mickee Pierce Cayer• • on

T hough ts of a w ife and children and a hom e came b lurred and hazy into his m ind. Slowly the thoughts becam e clearer. N o w he rem em bered. H is w ife had died after a long illness, bu t he still had his children. T h en his eldest son, too, had died, and som ehow, as hard as he had tried to hold the o ther children, they had grow n away from him .

B ut w hy was he here ? H o w did he come to be on skid row ? Perhaps because of loneliness. H ere everyone had seemed to like h im , to talk to h im , to d rink w ith him . N ow he knew it was just the money. H e had had m oney w hen he first h it the street—and friends. T h e old m an smiled tiredly, and tasted the salt as the tears ran into the corners of his m outh . H is friends and his m oney had both run out at the same tim e.

W rith in g w ith sham e, he rem em bered tha t once he had w ritten his children. H e had asked if they could help him , that he w anted to get off the street. H e was sure, w ith their love and faith behind him , he w ould have the courage to start over. T here w ere vague answers and a few dollars in reply. N o love m entioned, nor a let­ter saying, “W e miss you; come hom e to us.” H e cou ldn ’t rem em ber m uch after that, for now he had even lost his pride.

H e d ran k up those few dollars. W h en they w ere gone he lived like the o ther old m en of the streets, selling em pty w ine bottles for a penny each, w ash ing dishes, or sweep­ing up bars. L ike the others, he w orked only long enough to be able to buy a bottle and rent a bed for the n ight. If he rem em bered, and there was m oney left, he w ould eat a bowl of soup.

H e knew he had been sick for a w hile and had w anted to die. B ut he was taken to a county hospital, w here he had been m ade to live. H e had re tu rned to these streets. W here else was he to go? If he could only plan or th ink —but for too long he had punished his m ind and body. So he slipped back into the routine of the skid-row w orld. W ith in a week he had forgotten he had ever been gone.

N ow , suddenly, he was fully aw ake. H e was back in this room , and it was F a th e r’s D ay. H e heard the jukebox and smelled dirty grease as someone fried eggs on a for­bidden, hidden hot plate. H e fought panic for a m inute until his g roping hand, fum bling beneath the bed, found his w ine bottle. T h ere had to be a d rink for m orn ing . H is one rem aining fear was tha t he m igh t som etim e for­get to save a d rink . H e w ould rather w alk the street naked than w alk w ith the shakes. But the shakes h a d n ’t h it yet, and he lay back against the stained, uncased pillow . H e treasured this m om ent of peace, this peace of body and m ind he found so seldom . C ould it be like dy ing?

T h en his eyes again strayed to ( Turn to page y /.J

10

"The Christian Science Monitor" has regarded alco­holism as a profound social evil, and has fought it strenuously down through the half century.

The phrase "Commitment to Freedom," which is the title of the book I have recently written about the "Monitor," epitomizes our attitude. We believe man must preserve and live his birthright of freedom by refraining from addictions which enslave and corrode. This is the personal view of Christian Scientists as well as the deep editorial conviction of the "Monitor." Total freedom is our goal.

E rw in D. C anham , E ditor

t i f i

Duane Valentry

WH A T has happened in the U n ited States and the rest of the w orld in the past five decades ? W h a t progress has been m ade in the age-old struggle of m an tow ard

the good in life? W h a t p a rt has alcohol played in the h u m an story over this eventful period ?

A nsw ering these questions and telling the story behind the new s has been, and is, the chore of The Christian Science M onitor, the in ternationa l daily new spaper founded by a w om an, M ary B aker E ddy, in 1908.

L ead ing the field of those new spapers refusing to accept liquor advertising, the M onitor has long been recognized and frequently honored as an educational m edium of great influence. I t is a voluble sentinel in keep ing the public inform ed on vital issues, no t the least of w hich has been the liquor scene.

F ew indeed are the aspects of this subject the paper hasn ’t covered w ith the thoroughness for w hich it is fam ous. F o r exam ple, its “M en of D istinction” editorials appearing at intervals over a decade, com m ented on tragic results of d rink ing , as b rough t ou t in the news—results w hich liquor ads using the sam e phrase failed to m ention. W h en liquor com panies d ropped the ir “M en of D is­tinction” advertising, the M onitor also dropped its m uch- quoted and provocative take-offs.

“R eport on L iquo r—W h a t A re W e D o in g ? ”—a series of th irty articles—ran in the paper’s pages in 1955 and created m uch favorable com m ent, as did “Abstinence and

A lcoholism ,” an earlier series on this pertinen t subject.O ne of the m ost w idely read new spapers in the w orld,

the M onitor has ham m ered hom e the im portance of al­cohol education to counteract increased liquor advertising and social pressures to drink .

M onitor reporters have gone beh ind the scenes in p ic tu ring juveniles in trouble to po in t out how frequently such troubles began w ith paren tal use of liquor in the hom e. “T een C rim es L inked to P aren t D rin k in g ” pointed ou t tha t a lthough court records am ply showed the coinci­dence of youth crim e and hom e d rink ing , the problem needs additional study to lay the basis for stricter law en­forcem ent.

N eed for action on the p a rt of churches to com bat d rin k in g pressures was b rough t ou t in another feature, quoting leaders of various denom inations on the subject.

“Som e of us have labored long and hard across the years to rehabilitate alcoholics, the victims of acute alco­holism ,” said M ethodist Bishop John W esley L ord . “ It seems ra ther stupid to spend hours m opping up the w ater and to be unconcerned about the open and ru n n in g faucet.”

D r. M yron W . Powell, of the C ongregational C hurch , w arned, “O ne of the w orst elem ents in the present situa­tion in respect to social d rink in g is the practical loss of a person’s inheren t right no t to d rink if he does n o t care to do so.” (Turn to page 29.)

1. The C h ristian Science Pub lish ing Society offices, in Boston, M assachusetts.

2 . Since these in ternationa l students, representing some 200 un iversities and col­leges, neither d rink nor sm oke, they take a fresh- a ir b reather betw een meet­ings of their convention of C h ristian Science o rg a n iza ­tions around the w o rld .

3 . Youth convention dele­gates touring the church's executive offices ta lk to frien d s as they a re w a it in g .

1. In th is p rim itive Meo v illa g e , in the rug­ged m ountains of Laos, the inhab itan ts depend on opium fo r the ir ex istence—and ex is t fo r opium .

2 . A t La thuang is the on ly open opium m arket in the w o rld .

3. The se lle r w e ighs out five g ram s (one- s ixth ounce) of the opium on a crude set of sca les , a s accurate as fine postal scales.

4 . A b uyer w atch es ca re fu lly as the m er­chant w e ig h s out h is fe w cents' w orth of d ream s. Each g ram of ra w opium w ill m ake five p ipefu ls fo r the buyer.

5 . Pap er m oney isn 't good in th is land of op ium . Purchases above five g ram s must be paid fo r in s ilv e r ; but fo r transactio ns invo lv­ing f ifty g ram s or m ore, paym ent in b ar s ilve r is dem anded .

6 . A harveste r in trad it io n a l costume pre­pares to leave , ca rry in g p rovisions fo r seve ra l d a y s in the basket on her back.

7 . W ith a three-pronged instrum ent, a sim ­

ple tool, the poppy bud is scratched fo u r tim es to cause the opium to flo w . The w h ite liquid seeps out and , o x id iz ing in the a ir , tu rns a d a rk b ro w n .

8. The fo llo w in g d a y the opium is gathered from the leaves and stem of the p lan t. E ve ry drop w ill be co llected . W hen the popp ies are rich , one w o rke r can g ather up to f ifty g ram s a d ay .

9 . In the v illa g e , p a rt of the h arvest is p repared fo r use by the harvesters . The opium is boiled , then filte red seve ra l tim es. A bout 30 per cent o f the ra w m ate ria l is lost in the process.

10. Touby Li Fouangs, K ing o f O p ium , has nothing but scorn fo r anyone w ho asks ques­tions ab out opium .

11 . Tw o youths p rep are an opium p ipe , to sm oke in quiet.

12. On h o lid ays th is native g irl ad d s a band to her tu rb an , from w h ich a re suspended ancient s ilve r co ins, fash io ned b y v illa g e a r t i­sans and paid fo r by the sa le of op ium .

High in the mountains of Laos, in central Indo-China, live a savage people, the Meos, known for their beauty of physical feature. The more than 200,000 members of this tribe are farmers, or rather cultivators, their principal crop being opium. They are ruled by Touby Li Fouangs, also known as the King of Opium.

As in most primitive countries, the Meos women do almost all the labor, from tending the fields of poppies to extracting and processing the drug from which dreams are made.

Some of the opium is reserved for home consumption, but most of it is sent to the village of Lathuang. Here, in the only open opium market in the world, Laotian, Tai, and Meo buyers come to make their pur­chases—from a few pipefuls to bulk quantities that will find their in­exorable w ay into the world market, a considerable part of which will sift through underground channels into the United States.

Few of the Meos, other than Touby, who has Western affectations, expect to get rich from the evil product of their labor. Most of them are satisfied with what they have—opium, the drug of death whose specter hangs over its victims in virtually every part of earth.

’M L O N E L Y and w an t to m ake friends, bu t don ’t know w here to m eet people. A neighbor sug­

g e s te d a bar, bu t I’ve been b ro u gh t up to avoid Dars and d rink ing . Y et w here else can I go an get acquainted w ith people here in the c ity?”

wrote a w om an, aged thirty , to a colum nist who cializes \ n hum an problem s. T h e colum nist advised

Jjento stay away from bars and join a church instead.ce was good, of course, yet the colum nist

hersejjt-w as^robably never a lonely person in a big city. ShoM iiaTwot have realized tha t a person can join a big

¡1, a ttend regularly for years, and yet be lonely iu m a n com radeship goes. T h e opportunities

cing friends are com paratively scarce there. Som e'2ities have friendship clubs w here for a fee one

and hope to find social satisfaction. Occasionally m ade there, som etim es desirable, o ther times

, too, there are Y .M .C .A .’s and Y .W .C .A .’s, 7 some w orth-w hile program s and occasionally eft.

Dc « th ese take the place of the bar, w here a per- at any tim e of the day or n ig h t and be

pmeone w ith a listening ear ? O n the sur- ce a safety valve, a poor m a n ’s psychiatry

'u n be liev er’s confessional. In this way it : bar satisfies a distinct h u m an need. Probably

m ajor reason for its con tinued existence, v l^ t a price to pay! Besides the potential danger ¿ng,*}he com panions in such places are frequently

desirable, rom ances started there often end in 1, and the advice freely offered to people w ith likely to be the w orst possible advice, com ing persons w ho know m ore of the seamy side of he good.

'c a n lonely people of the big cities pass their sum m er one sees them lin ing the park

ie w inter in cheap restaurants m ak ing their last as long as possible so as at least to be in

an errand . R etu rn ing , I found an am bulance at the door and a policem an ho ld ing the crutches. T h e long clim b had proved too m uch for him , and he was out of his m isery at last.

T h a t dram atic incident m ade our fam ily th in k m ore about the second cripple, w ho lived dow n the street; so we decided to show friendship. W e learned he was a m usic com posers’ agent w ho helped new com posers pre­pare their com positions for sale. H e apparently m anaged to get to his office each day and hom e again, bu t lived a lonely life.

H o w eagerly he grasped our friendship, even gladly clim bing four flights of stairs w henever we gave h im op­portun ity to visit us. M erely to have som eone to w hom to talk gave h im a new joy, a new incentive to live. W e in tu rn enjoyed hearing the interesting experiences of his life, and felt bad w hen we m oved away. All we could leave him were m em ories, a radio, and a prom ise fro m a neighbor to look in on h im from tim e to tim e.

A no ther tim e our fam ily felt w e should share our T hanksg iv ing d inner w ith a lonely soul, so I w en t to invite someone from a C entral Park bench. L ook ing around at m any lonesom e-looking people, I finally sat dow n by a m iddle-aged w om an and m anaged to engage her in conversation. She soon told m e her children w eren ’t interested in her and d id n ’t w an t her around, so on T hanksg iv ing D ay she sat alone on a park bench. W hen I invited her to join us for d inner, she was delighted. She w as glad to have a share of someone else’s hom e life, even though, of course, that cou ldn’t heal the h u rt of being unw an ted by her ow n fam ily. W e never saw her again. M aybe she is still spending her holidays alone on a park bench.

O f course, we all know tha t there are thousands of lonely people in big cities, and in sm aller ones, too. T h en there are others w ho may not be lonely, yet m ay have problem s they feel they cannot share w ith their fam ilies, w ho sometimes do not understand. O ne Y .M .C.A . secre-

Neighborhood taverns and bars fulfill a distinct social need, BUT, there must be—

Madeline George A BETTERce of o ther people instead of sitting alone in a

oom. O r they tu rn to the bar. ived in an apartm ent in M anhattan , our fam ily fied about the lonely people all a round us.

rly m en on crutches visited a restau ran t about jCS away. O ne of them lived in our build ing, and occasionally m eet h im on m y way in from w ork,

ely knew him , but had spoken to him once or tOne evening I m et h im as he was re tu rn in g from

uran t, tired and w alk ing very slowly. T h en he ake his way up tw o flights of stairs to his room joked helplessly on. Later I w ent ou t again on

tary, eager to help such persons, placed an ad in the N ew Y ork Tim es inviting m en w ith problem s to come in to talk them over. H e was surprised w hen twenty-five m en answ ered that ad, includ ing one m an from C alifornia, w ho was a form er N ew Y orker and still subscribed to the Times. H e was troubled about m any things, inc lud ing his business. W hen he read that invitation to com e in and discuss his problem s, he took off for N ew Y ork. T h e m an assigned to counsel w ith him perceived a deep heart h u n ­ger and led the m an to a religious conversion. T h e in ­qu ire r w ent back to C alifornia and reorganized his busi­ness along C hristian principles. ( Turn to page 34.)

Four typical American teen-agers air their frank opinions on

"Social Drinking and Parental Attitudes" over WRC-TV, Washington, D.C.

Moderator: T o m , w e’ll begin the discussion w ith you. Since high-school students these days are beg inn ing to come in contact w ith social d rink ing , do you th ink it w ould be helpful to learn to d rink at hom e ?T o m : Yes, I do. I th in k tha t if parents introduce you to d rink in g —in o ther w ords, if you get a feeling of w hat it is like to take a d rink —then w hen you go ou t you will be acclim ated to ge tting along w ith people and know ­in g how m uch you can take before it affects you greatly. D onna: I disagree tha t parents should introduce you to drink ing . T hey should w ait for your curiosity to be aroused, and then answ er your questions about it; bu t I d o n ’t th in k they should offer d rinks to you in the first place.Jan: I ’m going to have to agree w ith D onna . I feel it is the paren ts’ responsibility to educate their young people about the facts of alcoholic beverages, the effects on their m orals, the ir bodies, the ir success, and their fu ture happi­ness. In tha t w ay they w ill be better able in the fu ture to cope w ith situations tha t pertain to d rink ing .R onyl: W ell, Jan, I have to disagree w ith you, because I don’t th in k an academ ic education concerning liquor is qu ite enough. I th in k you m ust have an actual sam pling to give you an idea of your capacity.T om : I believe tha t if you are introduced to liquor, you may be a little m ore prone to d rink w hen you go out, bu t this w ill help you to know how m uch to take. T he first tim e you go o u t you m ay take only tw o drinks and really get sick, bu t you w ill be able to know how m uch you can hold w ith o u t its affecting you m uch. M oderator: L e t’s find out now just how m uch d rink ing goes on am ong youth. D o m any of your friends drink , Tom PT om : Yes, they do. M uch m ore than 50 per cent of my friends d rink to some extent. T h a t doesn’t m ean tha t they go o u t and get stone d ru n k , bu t they’ll have a beer once a m onth , once a w eek, or som ething like that. T hey don ’t go to any excess.D onna: T o m , in your school, or am ong your friends, w here does m ost of the d rink in g take place? Is it in parties, such as open houses, or off in tow n ?T om : T o a g reat extent it is in parties. G oing into tow n is too expensive, and it w ill cost m ore to go to some place tha t serves d rinks than to buy a few bottles for yourself. M oderator: A re you perm itted to buy drinks ? A ren ’t you all under age ?R onyl: Som e places in the city w ill serve teen-agers, bu t o ther than tha t, no, w e are not perm itted to buy drinks.

T h is custom of d rin k in g varies am ong the d ifferent h igh schools. In the group I go around w ith there is virtually no social d rink ing , bu t there is an aw ful lot of d rin k in g in sorority parties and fraternities. H ow ever, there is no boy-girl d rink in g on dates or at parties.Jan: In relation to sororities and fraternities, you will find tha t the reason people usually start d rin k in g early, say in the ten th grade, is tha t they w an t to be in society, and they find th a t the society they get into , d rinks; therefore, they desire to copy, or im itate. I th in k tha t is one th ing tha t shouldn’t be done. A person w ho copies is not a m an ; he is m ore a child.T om : Sororities and fraternities do encourage d rink ing .T h ere is no question about it, because tha t is one of the w ays their m em bers show they are above everyone else.T h e boys can freely take a d rink , and the girls can “hold their liquor.” T hey generally have only a few drinks, b u t their d rin k in g som etim es goes to excess.M oderator: D oes d rink in g in sororities and fraternities occur, w ou ld you say, qu ite w idely on the high-school age level ?

W h a t Is "Teen Talk” ?"Teen T a lk " is a youth te lev ision p ro g ram on station W R C-TV ,

the N .B .C . outlet for W ash in g to n , D .C ., w ith a question of sp ec ia l in terest to youth b eing d iscussed by a n ew p an e l of teen -ag ers each w e e k . These youth a re chosen from high schoo ls of the a re a to p ro v id e a cross section of teen th ink in g to d ay .

Producing the pro gram is Sop h ie A ltm a n , w ife o f a W ash in gton a tto rn ey an d m other of four ch ild re n , tw o of them teen -ag ers. Her f ifteen-year-o ld d au g h te r Ja n e t is a ss ista n t pro ducer. M o d erator is Bette Jero m e , N ew Y o rk TV p erso n a lity .

Recently w h en the question o f the w e e k had to do w ith teen ­a g e d rin k in g a n d hom e in fluence , F ra n c is A . So p er, ed ito r j f "L iste n ," w a s invited to a p p e a r a s guest ex p ert, w ith p a n e l m em ­bers Tom B en sin g er, Ronyl S te w a rt, D onna H uber, and Ja n R hoads. The fea tu re a p p e a r in g on these p ag es is the tra n sc rib e d , u n re­h earsed p an e l d iscu ssion , a lon g w ith the su m m ary rem ark s.

The form at o f "Teen T a lk " consists of the p an e l d iscussion for the first h a lf of the p ro g ram , then a three-m inute su m m a ry and com m ent by the w eek 's guest, the rem a in d e r of the h a lf hour being devoted to questions from a teen -ag e a u d ien ce d irected to the exp ert.

N ow three y e a rs o ld , "Teen T a lk " has a lre a d y rece ived seven a w a rd s for exce llen ce and p ub lic se rv ice , an d stan d s a good ch a n ce of becom ing a netw ork p ro g ram b efore long. Started in o rd er to g iv e youth an op p ortun ity to ex p re ss th em se lve s, it is prom oting u nd erstan d in g b etw een youth a n d their p a re n ts, and betw een the com m unity and teen -ag ers. It is putting the spot­light on good you th , w ho tend to be o verloo ked in the g la rin g p u b lic ity g iven to ab o u t 2 per cent of m odern youth—the " ju v e n ile d e lin q u e n ts ."

In this w a y "Teen T a lk " p ro v id es a v a lu a b le so cia l contribution to its a r e a , and- points the w a y to a p ro ject w e ll w orth the at­tention of a n y com m unity.

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T om : In m y contacts, I w ould say tha t from 60 to 80 per cent of the young people tha t I know occasionally have a beer, or even som eth ing a little stronger. I th in k tha t the high-school fraternities and sororities have a g reat ten­dency to encourage d rink ing .D onna: I d o n ’t agree w ith you. I w o u ld n ’t disrespect any­one w ho is a t a party and refuses to d rink . As a m atter of fact, I w ould rather respect such a person because he has w ill pow er and courage. I d on ’t th ink fraternities and sororities necessarily encourage d rink ing , because to me it doesn’t m ake any difference w hether a sorority sister of m ine d rinks or doesn’t d rink , and no one in the sorority w ould care.Ian: I am in a group m yself tha t is widely recognized for its ability to d rink , at least they do quite a bit of d rink ing . N o t all of the g roup d rink , of course, bu t w hen I go to parties w ith them , I d o n ’t feel at all out of place by no t d rink ing . My parents have b rough t me up in a way tha t said early, “Son, you can’t d rin k at this age.” As I be­came older and they tho u g h t I was m atu re enough to m ake my ow n choices, they said, “Y ou have the choice to d rink or n o t; we have explained the facts to you.” T h ere ­fore, I have chosen against d rink in g , for I d o n ’t feel it is profitable by any means.

M oderator: Speaking of parents, do any of your friends’ paren ts know that they d rink , or do they do this on the sly ? R onyl: I th ink that for the most part, in the ten th and eleventh grades and sometimes in the tw elfth grade, the d rin k in g is done on the sly, except at large parties, or cotillions. T h en cham pagne, or som eth ing of tha t type, is served. But at the college age it is understood that parents actually condone d rink in g ; at least, they accept it. D onna: Ronyl, have you found tha t teen-agers d rin k a lot in hom es, I m ean w here parents offer d rinks to the kids? R onyl: N o, not in o ther people’s hom es, bu t in the ir ow n hom es possibly, but I really d o n ’t th in k —and I d o n ’t find it happens very m uch—tha t o ther teen-agers’ parents should or w ill offer d rinks to teen-agers.D onna: W h a t about a holiday, say C hristm as, or w hen teen-agers are invited to d inner at another house ?R onyl: T h a t’s a different m atter. M any people have wine at d inner or eggnog at C hristm as, bu t tha t is no t the same as offering som eone a highball, especially a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old w ho is invited into the house.Jan: T h a t’s one of the faults of parties, Ronyl. Y ou see, in eating, a person has a choice of w hat to eat. H e de­cides, for exam ple, “ I d o n ’t like that m eat, so I ’ll take potatoes.” W ell, in the case of d rink ing , if he is offered a beer, there is no variety. T h e hostess says, “W o u ld you like a b eer?” and he feels ou t of place no t accepting it. T h e hostess’ responsibility is to m ake her guest feel at hom e, and therefore she should offer a variety of drinks. R onyl: I th in k beer or alcoholic beverages should be one of those choices.T o m : Jan, w hy do you th ink teen-agers d rink ?Jan: W ell, personally I cannot see any value in d rink in g , b u t I know teen-agers do it for several reasons. Som e w an t to have a good tim e, w ant to be w ith their friends, feel a t ease. Also, as we have said, sororities and fraternities encourage drink ing .D onna: By “d rin k in g ” do you m ean m erely tasting it, or really d rink in g to the point of inebriation ?Jan: W hen I say “d rink in g ,” tha t m eans all the way. D onna: O h, I don ’t th in k tha t the average teen-ager goes out and really gets d ru n k . M ost of them have had a d rink , and w ill accept one perhaps, bu t they d on ’t get d ru n k . R onyl: I don’t th ink in the early stage they do, because they haven ’t been exposed. T hey d on ’t know their capacity.Jan: T hey w an t to show tha t they are able to d rink . I t’s like com petitive sport, to show w ho can d rink the m ost and tha t he is able to do it. Y ou know , be the he-m an type.Ronyl: Does d rink ing come out in dating , too?Jan: In dating it is a different problem . Y ou feel guilty about d rin k in g in front of a girl.T om : I believe tha t w hen a boy goes ou t w ith a g irl, it shou ldn’t be the g ir l’s initiative to ask for the beer; but if the boy does, I th ink it is perfectly all r ig h t for the girl to say, “W ell, I’ll have one also.”D onna: D o you disrespect a girl for do ing th a t? I m ean, do you th ink less of her for no t o rdering a g inger ale or a soft d rink ?T om : N o , I d on ’t th ink less of her, bu t if a girl does order a soft d rink , the m ore pow er to her.D onna: W h at do you th in k of girls ( Turn to page 30.)

Summary remarks on "Teen Talk" by Francis A. Soper, editor of "Listen," appearing on WRC-TV.

In considering this question discussed by the panel, one might keep in mind several general observations.

One is the fact that we live in a society character­ized by personal liberty, individual freedom. We would not have it otherwise, but this does add to our need of making decisions as to personal conduct on an informed basis, carefully weighing the facts and argu­ments on both sides.

Furthermore, the very word "society" implies that we don't live alone. That well-known expression, "No man is an island," sums up aptly the responsibility we have to others as well as to ourselves.

The nature of alcohol itself should not be forgotton. It is, medically and scientifically, a narcotic drug, po­tentially dangerous in its effect on any user, moderate or heavy. It is habit-forming, containing lead-on fac­tors. A person who begins to use it will tend to take more and more, imperceptibly becoming dependent on it, but often not recognizing that dependence until it is too late.

Also, never forget that simply because a thing is socially acceptable, or is done by the majority of people in a society, isn't in itself proof that it is for the best good, either of the individual or of society.

Three principles outlined at a recent national con­vention of youth are apropos here. These are basic principles to be followed in making personal decisions:

1. Is my contemplated conduct such as to harm me personally, either now or in the future?

2. Is it such as to harm someone else, either now or in the future?

3. Is there a better way to accomplish the same purpose?

In putting these principles into practice, in con­nection with what we are discussing here, we can make right personal decisions—decisions of real value to ourselves, to our families, and to our society.

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In terview by T am ara A ndreeva

Pat Boone

A N IE L B O O N E , so it is said, could talk so sweetly tha t he could “charm a coon off the tallest tree.”

T oday his d irect descendant, Pat Boone, charm s m illions, especially teen-agers, w ith h is songs. Popularity polls have repeatedly

listed h im as one of the m ost popular w ith the younger set; yet Boone, as contem porary entertainers go, is an aberration. H e doesn’t d rink or sm oke, drive jazzy cars, or try to im press the populace w ith expensive living or crazy publicity stunts. H e m ade it know n early in his career tha t if he could no t live the life to w hich he had been accustom ed—surrounded by his w ife and four ador­ing little girls—he w ould as soon forget the whole en ter­ta inm en t idea. H ollyw ood know-it-alls predicted a speedy dow nfall; instead Boone’s popularity kep t clim bing, un til now his records sell in the m illions. H is latest triu m p h is his best-selling book, T w ixt T w elve and Twenty.

P at refuses to live according to the glitter city’s stereo­typed p atte rn . H e puts his m arried life and happiness far above his career. W hen , d u rin g his personal appear­ance tou r on his “A pril L ove” picture, he learned th a t the m any engagem ents set up for h im gave h im tim e for about every th ing b u t his w ife Shirley, he apologetically, bu t firm ly, canceled half the engagem ents. Shirley cam e first! “ If show business does no t w ork ou t for m e,” he always says, “ I th in k I w ould still like to be a teacher. T eachers do no t m ake m uch , bu t it is satisfying, and they have plenty of tim e to raise their fam ilies properly.”

T h e “croakers” said tha t his strict adherence to fam ily life w ould lessen his appeal to teen-agers. B ut they w ere w rong. E very th ing he did seem ed to m ake a hit, es­pecially w ith the young folks. A fter com pleting a cross­country poll on Boone, R andy W ood, of D o t Records, qu ipped : “T h e first teen-age idol th a t g randm a can ‘d ig ’ too.”

W h en the rock-and-roll m adness was a t its height, P a t Boone, clean-cut, handsom e, and cool, stepped in to the teen-age spotlight—and stayed there. H e acted unconven­tionally. H e refused to kiss in pictures, and tu rned dow n m ovie offers in order to continue w ith his studies at C olum bia U niversity. In spite of ridicule from some, he nightly called up his w ife Shirley w henever aw ay from her on a sing ing engagem ent. N early everyone predicted failure, yet in four years he sold m ore than 4,000,000 records, and becam e a national T V favorite.

P a t’s exam ple in hom e life m ay pave the way for m any hopefuls w orry ing about m arriage versus career. T h a t has never been a problem in the Boone household. T h e reason ? Fam ily life always comes first.

A lthough endow ed w ith a m agnificent voice, he never took his m otion-picture w ork too seriously. T ed M ack discovered h im accidentally in N ashville, w here Pat filled some sporadic engagem ents at the local radio station. Pat actually felt tha t his acting w ork w ould help h im fu rth e r his teaching career, so he insisted on fin ishing his courses a t C olum bia, although this m ean t freq u en t furloughs from his o ther com m itm ents and s tra in ing the security of his

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1 . Not a one-m an aud ience asleep a t a d u ll rec ita l, but P a t studying a t odd tim es during reh e a rsa l.

2 . Sh irley a t the other end o f the line lo ves to h ear his vo ice by phone no m atter h ow f a r a w a y .

3 . Even the long , g rue ling sessions befo re lig h ts and lens fa i l to e ra se his b ro ad , in fectio us sm ile .

4 . M other S h irley Boone has her han d s fu l l keep ing fo u r w igg lin g g irls posed fo r a p icture .

5 . A t the a irp o rt , teen-agers re a lly " d ig " P a t and Sh irley w ith the

youngest of the fo u r g irls on th e ir return from an engagem ent tour.6 . Ben N ye , head of m ake-up fo r 20th Century Fox , p rep are s Pat

fo r his n e x t cam era ap pearan ce .7 . Facing an im personal m icrophone, P a t records m usical fa vo r ite s

fo r m illions o f listeners.8 . W hen on location fo r a motion p icture, P a t is a fa m ilia r figure in

h is sporty little ca r .9 . No sm iles w ere eve r more genuine o r in d ica tive of h ap p y fa m ily

life than those o f the P a t Boones.

contracts. H e got both a splendid education and a splendid career, plus a well-deserved adm ira tion from his public and his sponsors.

B orn in Jacksonville, F lorida, June 1, 1934, P a t lived from the age of two in N ashville, no t far from K entucky, scene of D aniel B oone’s adventures.

Pa t was christened Charles E ugene, bu t his parents, w an tin g a Patricia, always called h im Pat. H is father was a builder, and his m other a registered nurse.

O f his w ife Shirley, daughter of R ed Foley, country folk singer, Pat says, “She’s a very unusual w ife for an en tertainer—she understands all about singers.” P a t and Shirley w ent steady at D avid L ipscom be H ig h School in N ashville, w here he was an athlete and student president and she was a hom e-com ing queen. T hey eloped w hen they were n ineteen and m oved to D en ton , Texas, w here he attended N o rth Texas State College. O n weekends he appeared on a F o rt W o rth T V station.

H e began his singing career at ten, appearing in a ta len t contest in N ashville. A t seventeen he was singing on his ow n program over station W S IX . A year later he w on another contest and w en t to N e w Y ork to appear on T ed M ack’s A m ateur H o u r.

H is am bition to be a teacher led P a t to continue in col­

lege in spite of a lack of money at first, and later in spite of his engagem ents. In June, 1958, he was g raduated from C olum bia U niversity magna cum laude. H ow ever, his plans do not include a higher degree at the present tim e. W hy? H e has no t had enough tim e w ith his five girls.

P at belongs to the C hurch of C hrist and is often active in youth w ork for his church. H e enjoys leading the hym n singing on Sunday w henever possible. H is appo in tm en t to the board of directors for the N ational Institu te of C hristian E ducation he regards as a duty.

T h e Boones lived for a tim e in a $30,000 house in L eonia, N ew Jersey, w hich was m ortgaged and had only a one- car garage.

T h e ir four girls, Cheryl, L inda, D eborah, and L aura , p rovide Pat plenty of diversion; he loves babysitting.

In 1956 P a t tu rned dow n tw o cigarette-com pany spon­sors for his T V show, saying tha t he d id n ’t sm oke and d id n ’t w ant to influence any teen-agers to start a habit w hich “everyone is always saying he w ants to give up .” H e changed the lyric of one of his songs from “W h en I feel blue, I start sm oking ,” to “W h en I feel blue, I start w alk ing .”

D rin k in g a gallon of m ilk a day, he also devours ice cream like a teen-ager, brushes his teeth “about 18 tim es

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a day”— they look like it, too—and can sleep anyw here.H e says regard ing d rin k in g : “Som e people attribu te

the fact tha t I don ’t take a d rink to m y religious back­g ro u nd . T h a t’s just a part of the reason. F a r from being a saint, I know from experience tha t I w ould enjoy d rink ­in g in m oderation . B ut I also know tha t w hat I do carries my stam p of approval w ith m illions of youngsters w ho often pay m e the suprem e tribute of im itation. A m o n g those w ho w ould d rin k because I do w ould be som e w ho, w ith o u t know ing it, are em otionally a n d /o r physiologically vulnerable to alcoholism. If, th rough an exam ple set by me, a single boy or girl becam e a d ru n k ­ard , how do you suppose I w ould feel ?”

M any w riters w ho have interview ed Boone for stories have found he is exactly w hat he says he is, a fun-loving young fellow, w ith devotion and duty at the top of his “do” list. H is friends say he is a good listener and has a qu ick and responsive sense of hum or. H e w ill unabash­edly tell you th a t he loves to eat; the k illing schedules he m eets requ ire energy boosters, of w hich food is the best.

P a t stanchly refused to follow in the path of the es­tablished patte rn to stardom , w hich includes ostentation of every k in d ; b u t since he started singing in earnest about five years ago he has sold m ore than 18,000,000 records.

A n d his bond w ith his fam ily is stronger than it ever was.A n incident tha t happened in N ashville in 1956 shows

h is popularity. P a t was to m ake a personal appearance, b u t on arrival found tha t the tow n was d ro w n in g in a torrential rain. H is m anager suggested tha t he cancel his appearance, bu t P a t insisted that once he was expected he m ust appear. H e did, and some 80,000 fans stood in the pourin g rain to hear him !

Besides show ing w h at can be done w ith his talent, he has proved to all am bitious young people w hat can be done w hen one sticks by his deep convictions—in his case, his love of fam ily and his religious beliefs.

T a k in g some of his philosophy of life from his parents, w ho are steady, devout, believing people, P a t has expressed him self thus: “I always ask myself about any th ing I do: W ill it violate my conscience? W ill it have a bad effect on others? W ill it have a good effect on o thers?”

A n d he adds: “ I d o n ’t know how long this sing ing will last. N o m atter how long it lasts, i t’s given m e a greater responsibility than m ost m en m y age; no t just to my fam ­ily bu t to the m any w ho look to young singers as their exam ple. I owe them a lot, if no t everything. T h e only way I can repay them is to m ake a day-to-day reality of the question tha t lights m y life: ‘Is it r ig h t? ’ ”

J9

W O R L D V I EN A T IO N A L C O M M ITTEE FO RM ED IN A U ST R A LIA

Another link in the world-wide battle against the bottle was forged in Sydney, Australia, at the setting up of the Aus­tralian National Committee for the Pre­vention of Alcoholism, and the initiation of plans for an Institute of Scientific Studies for that area.

Dr. Andrew C. Ivy, of Chicago, presi­dent of the International Commission, and W . A. Scharffenberg, of W ashing­ton, D.C., Commission executive direc­tor, were present at the organization meeting, October 13 , 1958 .

Elected to serve as honorary president was the Honorable G. F. R. Nicklin, premier of Queensland. Senator Ian W ood of Mackay, Queensland, was selected as president. T . J. Paterson, chairman of the National Safety Council of Melbourne, Victoria, is executive secretary. Ernest H . J. Steed of Sydney is his associate.

Richard Cleaver, M.P., of Perth, W estern Australia, is treasurer, assisted by W . }. Hobbin of Sydney. Additional members of the board of trustees in­clude: F. H . Purdue of Newcastle,

member of the New South Wales Legislative Assembly; C. H . Carter of Brisbane, executive secretary of the Can­berra Hotels Corporation; Dr. A. H. Wood, president of the Methodist La­dies College in Melbourne, Victoria; Senator Agnes R. Robertson, Member of Parliament from W estern Australia; and Dr. A. K. Tullock, chief surgeon, Sydney Sanitarium and Hospital.

D r. H ugh Fraser, vice-president of the National Committee, was elected as chairman of the board of directors of the Institute of Scientific Studies. Initial plans have already been laid for the first session of the Institute, to be conducted on the campus of the medical college of the Sydney University. The dates for this session have been set for January 18 -29, i 960.

The organizing meeting for the N a­tional Committee was held in the Star­light Room of the Australia Hotel in Sydney. Invitations had been sent out to those who had indicated a willing­ness to serve on such a committee.

T he list included members of the parliament, outstanding businessmen, members of the judiciary, leading clergy­men, educators, physicians, social wel­fare workers, temperance leaders, prom­inent women, and a number of sports stars, including Bruce Crampton, the golfer, and Betty Cuthbert, the Olympic runner.

One member of the parliament, who was in the midst of his election cam­paign, flew all the way from Perth, a distance equal to that from Los Angeles to New York, to attend the meeting, then immediately flew back to Perth to continue his campaign.

1. The H onorable Ian W ood, M .P ., p resident o f the A u stra lia n N atio na l Com m ittee, confers w ith W . A . Scharffenberg , In ternatio na l Com ­m ission executive d irecto r, about futu re p lans.

2 . D r. Iv y speaks a t the o rg a n iza tio n a l m eet­ing o f the A u stra lia n Com m ittee. A t the front tab le a p p e a r A rcher Tongue, D r. Iv y , Dr. Hugh F ra se r, W . A . Scharffenberg , and Ernest Steed.

3 . G o lf Cham pion Bruce C ram pton and O lym p ic Runner Betty Cuthbert listen as Dr. Iv y e xp la in s the "d eso c ia liza tio n 7' p rogram and the ob jectives o f the N a tio n a l Com m ittee.

4 . The Honorable R ichard C le a v e r , M .P ., o f Perth , W estern A u s tra lia , studies the Com m it­tee's o rg an iza tio n a l and in ternatio na l p rogram .

Dr. H ugh Fraser of Sydney was elected to serve as temporary chairman of the meeting, and under his guidance the group proceeded to draft and adopt the constitution and bylaws for the new Committee.

W ide publicity was given in the press, over the radio, and by television to the formation of the National Committee.

W hen completed, the Committee will consist of the board of trustees and sixty additional men and women. Eleven members, including the officers, are to serve on the board of trustees. The com­mittee will include five physicians, five educators, five businessmen, five editors, five clergymen from five different de­nominations, five prominent women, five from the judiciary, five statesmen, five nationally known temperance lead­ers, five leading sports personalities, and five social and welfare workers.

The Australian National Committee follows the same organizational lines as the national committees in other coun­tries, including the United States, India, Burma, and the Philippines.

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This California industry has taken the M m STANLEY M. JEFFERSON

Winery ”

One of the world’s largest wine centers is Lodi, situated in the broad, flat valley of central California. So it is no surprise that wineries abound in this area. But when a winery changes over to m aking only n o n fe rm en ted p ro d uc ts— well, that’s another story.

For years the Lodi Grape Products served as a winery. For years its plant functioned as a medium to transform the sweet juice of the grape into an alcoholic beverage.

In 1952 the picture changed, however, when this establishment was converted into a grape products plant to reduce the juice to a pure concentrate instead of to fermented wine.

For many years there had been a group of noble-spirited citizens in the community who had desired to put the grapes they raised to a better purpose than to sell them to the wine industry.

To carry this out, a co-operative asso­ciation was formed, with thirty-three of the growers as stockholders. D. J. Wei- gum was elected president, with Jake E. Bietz as general manager. The stock­holders are Christian men of different Protestant faiths; nevertheless, they feel they have a common cause to champion, and are going all out to make a success of the enterprise.

A person visiting the plant senses that every effort is being put forth to make its grape concentrate a perfect product, wholesomely delicious, one that can be diluted and used as a sweet, nonalcoholic beverage, or used undiluted as topping on a refreshing dish of ice cream or as a sirup on waffles and pancakes. There is, in fact, an endless variety of ways in which it can be served.

The big market, however, is in the field of food processing. Manager Bietz says that all the concentrate produced by the plant can be sold to such manufac­turers. For example, during 1957 some 50,000 gallons of concentrate were sold

to Real Gold, a Los Angeles Company producing fruit drinks; 5,500 gallons went to Nesbitt Food Products for their grape drinks, and still more went to the Golden Gate Food Company of Berkeley to be used in jams and jellies.

Special care is used in guarding clean­liness and sanitation in the entire proc­ess, from the time the grapes are auto­matically dumped from the vineyard gondolas, until they are conducted through the extractor and separator into the vacuum tank, where the juice is pasteurized and reduced as it boils furi­ously at only 13 0 °

After seven hours of processing, 4,000 gallons of grape juice from twenty tons of fresh grapes become 1,000 gallons of concentrated sirup, about 70 per cent sugar. This is stored in four huge 25 ,000- gallon concrete tanks, especially lined to preserve the delicate flavor. From these it is pumped into glass-lined tank trucks for shipment.

Indicative of the exceptionally fine equipm ent throughout the plant is the $ 17,000 Westfalia Separator imported

(Turn to page 34.)

1 . D. J . W eigum (r ig h t), p resident of Lodi G rap e Products, d iscusses c recent p rogress report in the in d u stry 's office w ith Ja k e E. B ietz , genera l m an ag e r.

2 . Ten thousand pounds o f fresh g rap es from a v in e ya rd gondola sta rt through the strip per to rem ove stem s, leaves , and other fo re ign and extraneo us m atter.

3 . The com plicated e x tra c to r com presses the la st b it o f ju ice from the pulp .

4 . Th is W e stfa lia S e p a ra to r h and les about 1 ,800 g a llo ns of g rape juice an hour.

5 . Four thousand g a llo n s o f ju ice a re reduced to one thousand g a llo ns of purer o n f e n t r n t A ir» t h i s h n n o i / r i f u i i m t a n i r i n Ip < c t h o n c i v h n n r s ' n n o r n t i n n * i m o

THE VOICE

OF SCIENCE

TRANQUILIZERS AND CONDUCT

Henry F. Unger

By the use of homemade electronics apparatus, some rats, and a great deal of patience, Dr. H arold W . Coppock, asso­ciate professor of psychology at Arizona State College, Tempe, Arizona, is trying to show whether tranquilizers can con­vert normal, rapid-thinking human be­ings into dull, stupid persons.

Behind the unique experiments, backed by a grant from the United States Public H ealth Service’s Institute of Men­tal Health, is an attempt to learn the role of fear reduction and the effects of tran­quilizers and other drugs on learning processes.

In the experiments, which include shock treatment and shock-and-sound analysis, a rat is taped to a platform, and electrodes are connected to its tail. Photo­electric cells are placed before the cage in which the rat is snugly placed. Dr. Coppock turns on the electricity, ad-

1. Dr. Coppock checks »he electronics a p p a ra ­tus he designed to use in experim ents w ith t ran q u ilize rs . S ta in less steel pens record re­actions on the p aper tape a lo ng the tab letop .

2 . Don H uard , research a ss is tan t, ad justs elec­trodes on the ra t's ta il. The soundproof box, co nta in ing an am p lifie r to catch a ll sounds, w ill cover the ra t and the e lectric ity be turned on.

justing the strength of the current. The rat has been injected with tranquilizer drugs, with morphine, or with a neutral substance. Housed in an air-conditioned, soundproof box, not affected by outside influences, the rat is controlled by the electronics equipm ent outside the cage. Once the rat receiving the stimulus of the electricity moves its head, a photo­electric cell breaks the current, and the action is noted by pens on recording paper.

D r. Coppock has found that rats in­jected with neutral solutions are quick«to notice the shock and that a greater de­gree of fear is aroused, similar to the average human being’s fear of the doc­tor’s needle. Rats given pain-killing drugs also respond with some alacrity, but slower than the “neutral” rats. Rats injected with tranquilizers are slow to learn.

This research expert hopes to transfer some of his findings to reactions among human beings and their adjustment to learning setups after their use of various drugs, tranquilizer pills in particular. H e feels that if fear is eliminated through the use of tranquilizers, also eliminated will be other important drives that have a bearing on learning processes and social activity. Gone would be such assets as promptness, politeness, tact, and other daily living aids. Tranquiliz­ers in strong dosages would reduce fear to such a degree that the human being would be a phantom, hardly aware of responsibilities.

Dr. Coppock and his research assist­ants point out that their experimenta­tion is a slow process, but it is a very im portant analysis for society, whose members are coming to lean more heav­ily on tranquilizer pills.

MARTINI NOMOGRAPHEngineers use lots of nomographs.

H ere’s one—a M artini nomograph— that can be used to tell how many three- ounce Martinis it will take in one hour to achieve a desired result. If a person weighs 130 pounds and downs three Martinis in an hour, just draw a straight line from 130 on the weight scale to 3 on the M artini scale and note that the

blood will contain 193 milligrams of alcohol per 100 milliliters. W ith this percentage, he will lose his control and inhibitions. For example, he’ll be tell­ing smoking-car stories in the presence of ladies.

If you weigh 190 pounds and take on four Martinis in an hour, note that your blood contains 155 milligrams of alcohol per 100 milliliters and that you are running out of control. If you’re a little fellow, weighing 140 pounds, and would like to be excused from paying income tax from now on, just imbibe nine Martinis in an hour, build up the alcohol content of your blood to 510 milligrams per 100 milliliters, and pre­pare to join your forefathers.—Adapted from D. S. Davis, in Chemical Litera­ture.

vtTOUR WEIGHT

LB.

100120

140

160

ISO200

MG ALCOHOL PER 100 ML.

6 L 0 0 0

NNO. OF

3-02. MARTINI PER HOUR

250 J

1600 -

A * 6600 J f 082

100806050

RESULT

LO SS OF CONSCIOUS­

N E S S

- L O S S OF C O N T R O L ^

L O SS OF INHIBITIONS

, - SEDATION

r-1312HO

e

- 4

3

NO "THRESHOLD" IMPAIRMENT

OF

Three researchers of the University of Bristol examined the effect of small doses of alcohol on driving skill (re­ported in British Medical journal, 2 :993, 1958).

Apparatus used: “Miles motor driving trainer,” in which the subject sits in a dummy car facing a translucent screen in a darkened room. A road scene is projected onto the screen. As the driver operates the accelerator and steering wheel, the car appears to progress along the road.

The aspects of performance scored were accuracy of tracking, speed of driving, and the control movements of steering wheel, accelerator, brake, clutch, and gear lever. Records were made of the number of collisions with the side of the road that would be likely to hap­pen under normal driving conditions.

Subjects tested-. Forty volunteers from the staff of the Road Research Labora­tory, ranging in age from twenty-three to forty years. These were given a 20 per cent solution of alcohol flavored to disguise the alcohol content. The dose ranged from .2 to .65 grams of alcohol

( Turn to page 26.)

22

MIKE THORNE

T H E m om ent Joe Pierce reached hom e he knew some­th in g was w rong. H e stood in the open doorway and gazed across the littered liv ing room of his small four-

room cottage. C lo th ing was scattered on the floor and fu rn itu re . A vase was overturned. T h e radio had been knocked from its corner table and was b laring loudly on the floor.

F o r a horrible instan t Joe faced the reality he had so fearfully avoided before. N o t once in the eleven m onths tha t he and M arguerite had been m arried had he come hom e to an em pty house. H e desperately fought off the suspicions that w ere m o u n tin g in his m ind . C ould M ar­guerite have slipped? C ould she have gone back to her old hab it? If she had, Joe knew from bitter experience w hat terrible agony it w ould m ean for both h im and his wife. M arguerite was a reform ed dope addict.

O ne look told Joe tha t M arguerite had left in a hurry. She had gone th ro u g h the closet and chest, tak ing only the bare essentials. W hatever had m ade M arguerite leave m ust have frigh tened her horribly. Joe could guess w hat tha t was. Fran tically he w restled his way into his coat. H e knew every m om en t counted. H e had to find M ar­guerite—and he had to find her fast!

I t was rain ing , and a brisk w ind was snapping the big drops into Joe’s face as he w alked. B ut in his anxiety he hardly noticed the ir sting. H e was th in k in g about his wife.

Joe w alked in to a sm all cafe w here he knew some of M arguerite’s friends som etim es stopped. T h e waitress rec­ognized h im and nodded. “ I ’m looking for M arguerite,” he said. “She left in a hu rry today, and I ’m w orried.”

“Y ou rest here a bit,” she said, sliding a cup across the counter to him . “ I ’ll ask a round .”

Joe slouched on the stool, d ropping his face into his sweaty palm s. H e rem em bered vividly how w onderful he had felt the day he m et M arguerite and discovered he loved her. A n d he breathed an u rgen t prayer tha t w hat he suspected w asn’t true.

A new dope pusher nam ed Leroy W rig h t had been th reaten ing M arguerite for three m onths, try ing to get her back on the habit. Joe knew about Leroy’s record. I t was a long one for crim es of extrem e cruelty. H e h ad n ’t

1. Leroy W rig ht: Like a p a ll of im p en d in g doom .2. Jo e P ierce : "Th is is w h e re you get off."3 . M arg u erite P ierce : C ataco m b s of the u n d erw o rld .4. In the sh a d o w s of a back road in Houston's H erm ann Park.

w orried before, because Leroy had never seen his w ife except in public places. It was d ifferent now . A t this m om ent he could be to rtu rin g M arguerite into subm is­sion, forcing her to take a shot of heroin.

Joe knew w hen he m arried M arguerite tha t she took dope. She had a “heavy habit,” and Joe knew it w ould be alm ost im possible to break. B ut he was a m an of strong determ ination . H e believed tha t love and faith could overcom e even the pow erful physical and em otional hold tha t dope could have on a person. It was w ith this belief tha t he m arried M arguerite.

It was not a one-sided rom ance. M arguerite loved Joe deeply. If she h ad n ’t, she never could have m ustered the m oral courage and physical strength to accom plish w hat she did. “I ’m going to q u it the stuff,” she told Joe. A n d she did. She locked herself in a room and “kicked her hab it cold turkey,” tha t is, gave up dope abruptly , w ithou t the tapering-off process tha t is so often tried unsuccess­fully by addicts.

Joe had been nearby du ring the agon izing w ithdraw al —from the first beads of sweat to the last w rith in g con­vulsion. H e sensed the pain his w ife suffered, and he shared her em otional shock. It was worse than death to break the habit the way M arguerite did, Joe though t. A nd if anyone m ade her take dope again, death w ould be too good for him . ( Turn to page 26 .)

23

7 H E courtroom was very quiet. T h e boy standing before the jud g e’s bench was certain to be handled in typical M aloney fashion.

M ike Faverty , bailiff in W estern C ity’s Juvenile C ourt, w atched Judge M aloney as he studied the legal papers before h im . Public opinion in the city had been de­m and in g action to deal w ith the city’s juvenile delin­quency. “ I w onder how tough he’ll get w ith this k id ,” said M ike to an assistant.

T h e judge looked dow n at the white-faced, poorly clad boy of fourteen before him . T h e youth shifted his position uneasily. “ I w ill postpone g iv ing a decision on this case un til F riday ,” said the judge quietly . “I w ish to ta lk to the defendant in my cham bers.”

In his cham bers Judge M aloney faced Jim m y B uergin and M r. O lson. H is w ell-know n stern face w ore a w arm smile. “W e ’ve got to do som eth ing about this, Jim m y. O rg an iz in g a gang to th row rocks at trains filled w ith passengers just w on’t go.”

Jim m y looked up at the judge, and then out of the w in­dow into the cold gray of W estern C ity’s atm osphere. “I ’ll do som ething about it, Judge.” T h e boy’s tone was defiant.

shots. Y ou broke only two w indow s. M ost of the rocks bounced off the sides of the trains, I u nderstand .”

“Yeh, too bad!” T h e defiance was still there, bu t m ixed w ith perplexity. “W h at are ya gonna do ?”

“Y ou’ll see.”T hey rode on in silence, bu t soon the car tu rned up the

drivew ay leading to the judge’s hom e. A few m om ents later they entered the judge’s living room , and there, to Jim m y’s great surprise, were M r. Faverty, M r. O lson, and four solemn-faced, ragged youths.

“W e got them , sir,” said M r. Faverty to the judge. “It took some fast w ork, bu t the precinct captain in tha t d istrict knew just w here to go.”

“F in e ,” said Judge M aloney. “You see, Jim m y, I d id n ’t have the o ther boys come into the court today because I w anted to study your case first, since you’re the oldest. A fter I had talked to you, I asked M r. O lson and M r. Faverty to get the o ther boys. N ow I th ink all of us are about ready to go dow n to the basem ent quarte rs .”

T h e boys looked frightened, w ondering w h at was ahead.

T h e judge led the way dow n the long, w ind in g stairs. “R a ther a big house for an old bachelor,” said the

rouble

“W hat, J im m y ?” said the judge, looking serious.“I ’ll th row some m ore rocks at some m ore trains,

Judge!” threatened Jim m y w ith a snarl in his voice.A m om entary flash in the judge’s gray eyes disappeared,

as a w arm smile cam e to his lips. H e pu t his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “I know som ething better than that, Jim m y.”

T h e snarl deepened. So d id the judge’s smile. H e w ent to his desk and w rote a note. H an d in g it to M r. O lson, he said, “Y ou m ay go. I ’ll handle this. W ill you please hand tha t slip of paper to M r. F averty?”

T h e judge tu rned to the boy again. “W e’re going to take a ride, Jim m y. I w ant to show you som ething tha t m ight interest you.”

“Jim m y,” said the judge, as they were driv ing along, “it’s a good th in g tha t you and your outfit w eren’t goodFrom "Sunsh ine M a g a z in e ." Used by perm ission.

judge. “ I ’m all alone in the w orld, but there are a lo t of things w hich I like to have a round .”

T hey entered a door at the end of a corridor. T h e room was a large one. T h e floor was covered w ith a gigantic m odel railw ay system. T h e judge pressed some buttons on a control table, and tw o gray stream liners began m ov­ing along the m iniature tracks.

“W an t to throw rocks at them , boys?”T h e judge studied the boys. A ll five faces w ere in ten t

on the m oving trains. T here was no evidence of a snarl.“W o w !” said Jim m y. “W h a t a layout!” H e dropped

to his knees as the stream liners roared by. T h e o ther boys did likewise. A fter a few m om ents, Jim m y jum ped to his feet. “C ould we—could we—run them , Ju d g e?”

“I ’m going to give everything in this room to you and your friends, Jim m y,” said the judge quietly.

“Y our H o n o r!” said M r. Faverty. (Turn to page p . )

24

Note From

A braham L incoln , Civil W a r P residen t and target of an assassin’s bullet, was k illed by alcohol as tru ly as if a n intox icating beverage had itself been the fatal bullet.

F o u r m en—G eorge A tzerod t, Lew is Paine, D avid H ero ld , and John W ilkes Booth, all of them drinkers— w ere the conspirators w ho p lanned to kill A ndrew John­son, V ice-President; Ulysses S. G ran t, the victorious gen­eral; W illiam S. Sew ard, Secretary of S tate; and President A b rah am L incoln . A ll of these w ere to be killed on the sam e day and a t the same tim e.

A tzerod t, instead of k illing the V ice-President, entered a bar and d ran k him self d ru n k . A s a result he m ade no attack on Johnson.

G eneral G ran t, at his w ife’s insistence, w ent on to visit his ch ildren in Philadelphia the n ig h t before these aw ful events occurred.

A t ten m inutes after ten in the evening, w hile the Presi­den t was a ttend ing F o rd ’s T h ea te r to relax from the strain of w artim e responsibility, Lew is Paine and D avid H erold , the conspirators w ho w ere to k ill Sew ard, stopped at L afayette Square, and Paine entered the house. B reaking his g u n in an attem p t to en ter the Secretary’s bedroom , P aine cut up Sew ard w ith his knife. A lthough Sew ard lost considerable blood, he recovered and lived un til 1872, w hen he d ied of n a tu ra l causes.

John W ilkes Booth, a fam ous actor from Bel Air, M aryland, the real assassin and the m ain conspirator, was the son of an alcoholic w ho had spells of insanity. F rom his youth Booth had been a hard d rink er w ho took his b randy in long, careless drafts.

A t first the plo t against the P residen t was to have been a k idnapp ing , bu t as tim e w en t on W ilkes, d rink in g off and on, decided to k ill L incoln him self. A t three in the afternoon and then again at fou r he visited the tavern for b randy. A ro u nd six o ’clock Booth invited the stagehands from F o rd ’s T h ea te r to the nearby tavern for a drink .

“A t the tavern he joked w ith them and asked if they had to be on stage soon. T h ey said no, tha t the scenery

had already been set up. H e then said tha t he had an errand to do, bu t before he left he bought a bottle of w hisky for the m en and advised them to ‘d rin k up .’ H e w ent back th rou g h the alley and the u n derg round passage and up onto the stage.”

H av ing planned his attack by visiting the theater and the P residen t’s box, Booth re tu rned to the tavern for the last tim e tha t n igh t. H e ordered a bottle of w hisky and some w ater. T h e bartender rem em bered this because the actor usually asked for brandy.

In the tavern a highly intoxicated m an lifted his glass and said to Booth, “Y ou’ll never be the actor your father was.”

Sm ilingly the tra ito r answ ered, “W h en I leave the stage, I w ill be the m ost fam ous m an in A m erica.”

T h a t fateful n igh t a fifth m an, John F . P arker, one of the bodyguards to the President, bu t no t a conspirator, was three hours late arriv ing at the W hite H ouse to re­lieve W illiam H . C rook, the day guard . P a rk er was to escort the Presidential party to F o rd ’s T heater, bu t was to ride in a d ifferent carriage since the P residen t and the F irs t Lady had guests go ing w ith them tha t n ight.

P ark er was thirty-four, m arried , and had three small children. H av in g served for three m onths w ith the U nion forces, he had been accepted as a policem an on the W ash ­ington M etropolitan Police force. F rom then on he was getting into trouble w ith his superior officers and was charged w ith d runkenness and disorderly conduct. Such is the m an w ho was to guard the President from 4 p.m . to m idn igh t on A pril 14,1865.

A t the theater P a rker exam ined the presidential box and saw the em pty chair he was to occupy outside the door. B ut from this chair he could not see the play. Rest­lessly he w aited for the President to arrive. Escorting h im and his party to the box, he peered around the edge of the w all at the action on the stage, since the play had already begun w hen the Presiden t arrived.

Just before n ine o’clock Parker, not being able to follow

25

the play, became bored. Leaving the theater and his chair empty against the wall, he saw Burns, the President’s car­riage driver, dozing in the driver’s seat outside the theater.

“How would you like a little ale?” Parker asked.

Awakening, Burns said, “T hat’s a good idea,” and went with Parker. Be­fore they entered the tavern they were joined by a third man, Forbes, the Presi­dent’s personal valet. The empty chair and the unguarded box—all because of one m an’s craving for a drink.

W hen John W ilkes Booth prepared to enter the President’s box a little after ten o’clock, he looked at the empty chair before the door, wondering where the guard was who was to protect the President. W hen he realized that he was going to get into the box with no opposition, he entered, and with a der­ringer shot the President in the head between the left ear and the spine. Jump­ing from the box onto the stage, and breaking his ankle but still able to walk, Booth made his escape into the night. The circumstances of his later capture have been the subject of one of history’s great debates for years.

At six o’clock the next morning John F. Parker walked into one of the police stations with a woman on his arm. “Parker did not tell the sergeant where he had been all night, and the sergeant did not ask. Parker did not inquire about the President, nor did he offer to file a report on the assassination. The sergeant advised him to go home and get some sleep. Parker left. He re­mained a policeman in good standing for three more years. He was not tried, and no charges were ever filed against him .”

George Atzerodt was caught, tried, and hanged. So were Lewis Paine and David Herold. It is said that Booth was cornered in a Virginia barn and shot by a trigger-happy soldier.

So died a beloved President at the hand of an intoxicated man, and de­serted by a guard who thought it more important to have a drink than to guard the President of the United States.— Facts taken from The Day Lincoln Was Shot, by Jim Bishop (N ew York: H ar­per and Brothers, 19 55).

NO "THRESHOLD" OF IMPAIRMENT

( Continued, from page 22) to each kilogram of body weight. The alcohol level in the blood was deter­mined in the blood, urine, and breath at intervals over a period of two and a half hours.

Results: Performance began to deteri­orate with very low blood alcohol con­

centrations from 20 to 30 milligrams of alcohol per too milliliters, correspond­ing to an intake of .2 to .3 grams per kilogram of body weight. This repre­sents a level about one fifth of the 100 milligrams per too milliliters, the level used by the American National Safety Council as the line between “safe” and “possibly under the influence.” T he deterioration was progressive and line­arly related to blood alcohol level. There was no evidence of a threshold effect.

The impairment in performance was shown most clearly in the operation of the controls, particularly in the time of steering-wheel movements. Mean error showed an increase with an increase in blood alcohol, am ounting to about 16 per cent deterioration with a blood alco­hol concentration of 80 milligrams per too milliliters.

Part of the increase in errors was due to a significant tendency for subjects to claim more than their share of the road after taking alcohol. Mean speed showed no significant change after alcohol, al­though there were marked individual differences in speed. Age, sex, and previous driving experience and drink­ing habits showed no relation to individ­ual differences in response to alcohol, but personality ratings, especially those relating to extroversion and introversion, were definitely associated with driving performance.

BULLETS FOR THE PUSHER

( Continued from page 23) H e was roused out of his thoughts by

the waitress. “She hasn’t been in here for a week,” the waitress said. “And nobody in here has seen her.”

Joe nodded. “T hanks,” he said, and walked back outside into the rain.

As Joe walked from door to door, peering into smoke-filled taverns and hash houses and asking about Mar­guerite, he wondered what the future held for him and his wife.

Both knew when they married that the odds were heavy against their chances for happiness. They were both thirty-four. Joe had lived at best a hap­hazard, aimless life since childhood. Marguerite’s had been far worse. From a runaway girl, she had rapidly sunk into the depths of moral decay. It wasn’t that she was basically bad. She had lived too fast and become jaded and blasé, searching for new thrills as each new venture lost its interest.

The expected course open to an im­patient, thrill-seeking girl like Mar­guerite was just the one she took. She was out for kicks, and a friend per­suaded her that dope was the answer. She didn’t realize the consequences on

the night she took her first shot. If she had, no persuasiveness on earth could have induced her to do it. This was to be her most costly thrill—more so than she could ever imagine.

Marguerite learned with chagrin that this thrill—like all the others—was only temporary. It had one difference: Un­like the others, this one could not be tossed whimsically aside. W ithin a week, she no longer took heroin for fun. Now it was an urgent necessity—a deadly food for a great physical and emotional hunger, one that could never be satisfied.

Joe was soaked and near the point of giving up now. He paused in a shel­tered doorway, and was startled to hear someone call his name. H e looked up and recognized a newsboy whom he knew his wife had once befriended.

“If you’re looking for Marguerite, she’s at the bus stop over on Leeland Street,” the boy said.

Leeland Street was four blocks away. Joe ran all the way. He hoped desper­ately she would still be there when he arrived.

As he rounded the corner, he almost ran into Marguerite. She faced him for an instant, and Joe could see terror in her eyes. “Joe,” she said in a muffled half-whisper, “get away from me.”

Joe grabbed her arm and looked squarely into her eyes. “W hatever it is, Mag, I want you to tell me about it,” he said. “No matter what it is, we can lick it together.”

In heavy sobs, she wept out her story to Joe. “It was Leroy again,” she said. “H e’s been bothering me for weeks, but I haven’t told you. Yesterday he caught me on a deserted street and told me he would cut up my face if I d idn’t buy dope from him.

“This time I knew he really meant it. H e had a knife. I was afraid to tell you, because I knew he would hurt you, too. I figured it was better to stay away from all my friends.”

Joe took her home. They rested for an hour before Joe got into the car. It was almost dark when Joe got out of the car in front of Leroy’s cheap, fringe - area hotel.

He climbed the stairs and rapped on the door he knew was Leroy’s.

“Who is it?” a muffled voice from inside asked.

“Joe Pierce,” Joe answered. “I want to talk to you.”

Leroy was smiling when he opened the door. “W ell,” he said, “is this a social call?”

“Not exactly,” Joe said. “I want to buy some stuff.”

Leroy’s face darkened. “W hat’s a square like you want with H ? ” he asked.

“Marguerite needs it,” he said.

26

Listen invites you to send your questions to Dr. Spalding, c/o L isten E d i­torial Offices, 6840 Eastern A ve., N .W ., W ashington 12 , D .C .

Leroy smiled again. “Now you’re being smart,” he said. “You know M arguerite can’t be happy without H . And you know you want her to be happy.”

W hen Joe knocked, Leroy had been rolling up papers of heroin on a mirror he had taken off the wall and placed across his bed. H e dusted the glass, tucked his cellophane packages into a matchbox, and hung up the mirror. “Let’s go,” he said, beckoning toward the door. Joe knew a pusher never made a sale in his own house.

Joe and Leroy drove for half an hour, taking the usual devious route that junkies take to keep from being fol­lowed. The ride ended abruptly in the shadows of a back road in Herm ann Park. The nearby golf course was deserted, and Joe saw the drainage ditches filled with water from the recent rain, glim mering eerily in the pale light of a distant street lamp. He pointed to the road. “This is where you get off,” Joe said.

Leroy’s jaw dropped in disbelief. H e looked at the small blue pistol Joe was holding. “Is this a stickup?” he asked.

“Worse than that,” Joe said. “Mar­guerite asked you to leave her alone, and you wouldn’t. I’m going to see that you do.”

As Leroy stepped from the car, Joe’s pistol cracked, once, twice, three times—

Leroy gave a muffled yelp and flipped backward into the ditch. Joe leaped into the car, and it roared away.

Less than an hour later, two college students, out for a joy ride in the park, sighted Leroy near the road on his knees. “H elp me,” he said as they stopped. Then he collapsed.

They took him to a hospital and made statements to the police.

F or six days Leroy talked in riddles to police. H e had a broken jaw and bullets in his hip and back. At last, after unrelenting questioning by Hom i­cide Detective Ira Holmes, Leroy said: “All right, Copper, I’ll tell you who did it. It was Joe Pierce. But be care­ful w ith him when you arrest him. I’ve got something special planned for him .”

Holmes made the arrest, and Joe ad­m itted the shooting. The police were sympathetic w ith Joe’s case, and their testimony before the grand jury got Joe off a free man.

But the fear of the law was never uppermost in Joe’s mind. H e felt justi­fied in what he did. It is Leroy’s threat tha t worries Joe. It hangs like a pall of im pending doom over the heads of both Joe and Marguerite.

I t’s their latest installment in the life­tim e payments they have to make for a “luxury” no one can afford—a dope habit.

Why is it that teen-agers are some­times drawn to the use of alcohol and tobacco?

Every teen-ager is looking forward to the day when he can be independent and can make his own decisions. He wants to become an adult. H e doesn’t like to be “pushed around” by his par­ents, his teachers, or even his friends. H e wants to be recognized as a man, so he imitates the men (and she imi­tates the women) all about them.

On radio, on TV , in the papers, and on the billboards, over and over they are told that to smoke and drink is the smart, the clever, thing to do. “All the im portant people do it.” And he wants to be a real man; she wants to be a real woman and be loved by a “he- m an.”

Then someone comes along and tells them of the dangers to health and hap­piness. They think, “If it’s so harm­ful, then why does everybody do it? W e’re going to find out for ourselves.” So, in spite of occasional nausea and dizzy heads, they do find out.Shouldn’t minors he allowed to drink if they want to?

By a “m inor” I suppose you mean a teen-ager. First, let us observe that a hum an being must develop physically before his mental faculties can develop. At birth only the automatic part of the brain functions. The mental develop­ment trails by several years the develop­ment of the body. This is the reason we do not recall even the major events of our first few years of life.

Man has one attribute which dis­tinguishes him from the lower animals, and that is his ability to choose between the good and the bad, or the good and the best, his power of reason and judg­ment; and this ability develops last. This ability to choose wisely is not well developed in many individuals until they are out of their teens, and that is why lawmakers have designated twen­ty-one as the age at which a person comes into his majority.

H ow well any person has matured his judgm ent depends upon his train­ing as a teen-ager both before and dur­ing his adolescence. His wisdom is demonstrated by his choice of action and its relative value for the present, as opposed to its effect on the future of the person and the community as a whole.

Let me point out that the effect of alcohol is, first of all, to put to sleep the powers of reason and judgment, then the ability to think clearly and rapidly, and lastly the body itself.How early in life should one begin to use alcohol?

As pointed out in the foregoing question and answer, only those who have developed the ability to choose wisely should be given that freewill choice.

It is debatable whether any invidual has a right to use in any am ount a protoplasmic poison, an anesthetic, nar­cotic drug, whose first effect is to re­move the ability to make mature de­cisions.

Furtherm ore, should we who have learned of the dangers of using that drug allow the uninformed to follow the road to suicide and m urder on the high­ways and in the byways?Does the use of beverage alcohol shorten life?

Statistical studies of the effect of to­bacco on heart disease show a definite effect on life expectancy. And among those who both smoked and drank the death rate from heart disease is m ark­edly increased.

It is logical that any kind of poison which is taken into the body in any quantity will destroy the ability of the body to meet the stress of infections which may occur. It has long been recognized by physicians that any in­dividual who is addicted to alcohol and develops pneumonia is more liable to die of that illness than is one who has never taken this poison into his body.

YouthAsks..

The Doctor AnswersR. W. Spalding, M.D.

27

Titus A . Frazee

No. 3:ENTHUSIASTIC ENCOURAGEMENT

One day Eugene Field, the columnist, feeling completely frustrated, sent a note to his editor which read, “There’ll be no column tomorrow. I am giving up.”

By return messenger the editor sent Field this note: “I have a fellow work­ing on the linotype down in the base­ment. H e has three children desperately ill with scarlet fever. H e’s not giving up.” Thoroughly ashamed of his dis­couragement, Field went to work and pounded out the best column of his life.

I don’t remember the editor’s name, but the name of Eugene Field will stick. And the editor, with his enthusiastic encouragement, saved both a man and his newspaper.

W e may think we are “nobodies,” or “has-beens,” or that we are far from the sphere of influence where decisions are being made; but each of us, regard­less of his station in life, can through enthusiastic encouragement raise the spirits of our fellow men when they need a boost. “They helped everyone his neighbor; and everyone said to his brother, Be of good courage.” Isaiah 4 1 :6.

Roy Angell, minister of the Central Baptist Church in Miami, Florida, in his Baskets of Silver tells a thrilling story:

Julian LeGrande, one of the richest merchants that Paris ever knew, hit on hard times during one of the great de­pressions in France. His big stores were in need of a hundred thousand dollars in cash. Julian went out to borrow it, but neither the banks nor his friends had any money. All day long he looked in vain, and he came back thinking, “Have I been in business for forty years, have I built up a chain of great stores, and now cannot even borrow a hundred thousand dollars, and the business may go under for the lack of this small sum, when we’ve taken in millions of dol­lars in a single year?”

But there is more to this story.Julian LeGrande said, “I was sitting

in my office at sundown when a knock came on my door. W ithout lifting my head, I called, ‘Come in.’

“The door opened, and a very strik­ing, handsome man stood there. He was faultlessly attired, and he said, ‘Jul­ian LeGrande?’

“I answered, ‘Yes, sir, but you have the advantage of me.’

“H e said, ‘You probably would not know my name, but I’ll tell you in a moment or two what it is. I understand that you need some money.’

“ ‘Yes, sir, I do.’“ ‘H ow much do you need?’“ ‘I need a hundred thousand dol­

lars.’“ ‘W ell,’ he said, ‘if you will write

your note for a hundred thousand dol­lars for a year with no interest, I’ll give you my check for it. You can get the money from the bank tomorrow morn- ing.’ I got up slowly, my mouth hang­ing open, and I said, ‘My friend, who in the world are you, and why do you do this?’

“H e answered, ‘Mr. LeGrande, my name is ------ . I live in America now,but there was a time when I lived here, and I went to school here. You were Commissioner of Education, and you came to hear the final examination of our graduating class. You helped give us our marks on our last speeches before the assembly. I was ragged, for I was of a very poor family. There were some rich boys, and I thought surely you would talk to some of them and com­m end them, but when I had finished, and the exercises were over, you came and laid your hand on my head and tilted it back so you could look into my face.

“ ‘You said, “Young man, you have something that the world needs. You can do better than you did today. I t’s in you. You can do better. You can do most anything you w ant to do if you set your heart on it. Now, make a m an of yourself.”

“ ‘You wouldn’t remember those words, but every time I topped some achievement, and I’m very wealthy now, I’ve said, “Thank you, Mr. Julian Le­G rande.” And this day I have the pleasure of giving you a check for a hundred thousand dollars, just a tiny

interest payment on w hat you have meant to me.’ ”

Your word of enthusiastic encourage­m ent or commendation may strengthen some great person at a critical hour.

Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews wrote The Perfect Tribute many years after Abraham Lincoln delivered his Gettysburg Address. W hat it would have done to his sagging spirits if he could have read The Perfect Tribute on the way back to W ashington on the lonely train!

We are likely to think today that Lincoln must have realized that his words would live in men’s hearts, but how could he possibly have known this? After the long, eloquent speech of E d­ward Everett, the orator of the day, which drew thunderous applause from the crowd, Lincoln’s “simple speech” was received in silence. H e could not know that his hearers were so awed, so inspired, so moved by his message that applause would have seemed ir­reverent. H e could not know that his words would one day be cast in im­perishable bronze, and be engraved in men’s hearts. He could not know—be­cause no one told him.

Says George Matthew Adams: “He who praises another enriches himself far more than he does the one praised. To praise is an investment in happi­ness.”

He might have said, “Try the Golden Guidepost of Enthusiastic Encourage-ment.

JAMES DEAN'S LAST CARW h at prom ised to be an outstand ing

caree r w a s brought to a trag ic end on a C a lifo rn ia h ig h w ay near Paso Robles on Septem ber 3, 1955, w hen tw en ty-fo u r-year- old Jam es Dean ram m ed his $7 ,000 sports ca r into a car d riven by another reckless youth .

M ilitan tly independent in b eh a v io r and scornful o f convention , he seem ed to p ride h im se lf in , as he c la im ed , a ttem pting to find out w here he belonged . He p o rtrayed in motion p ictures the b ro od ing , in a rticu ­late adolescent he h im se lf w a s in rea l life .

This last battered car o f h is , sym bolic o f the w reck he m ade o f his life , is indeed a po w erfu l object lesson fo r eve ry young person tod ay .

28

IN T E R V IE W BYM A R IO N R U B IN S T E IN

Amos R. Reed, superintendent, Illinois State Training School for Boys, Saint Charles.

"In a train ing school for boys one has am ple opportunity to observe the child neglect and abuse that result many times from the alcoholism of fathers and mothers. The waste of lives, both adults and chil­dren, should be shocking to any thinker.

"Alcoholism is recognized as a factor in bringing about afflictions of the mind which send more than 3,000 persons into Illinois mental hospitals each year.

"Alcoholism joins ranks w ith drug addiction, racial discrim ination, and o ilier physical and social ills that cause serious disintegration of fam ily life.

"Children frequently are removed from the homes of alcoholic parents and placed in either public or private institutions. These children tell such stories of neglect and abuse that it becomes obvious that their young lives have been blighted by their experience."

Boys turn into w holesom e men w hen they come under the righ t influences. Here is the Drum and Bugle Corps a t the Illin o is S tate T ra in in g School.

CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR

( Continued from page 11)Many such articles have gained even

wider circulation by being reprinted by groups unconnected with the Christian Science Church, as well as in other news­papers.

On its part, the Monitor quotes from many sources in its “M irror of World Opinion,” bringing to world-wide at­tention local thinking on im portant is­sues, including drinking. The Voice column reprinted the Chapel Hill (N orth Carolina) Weekly’s comment on the seeming inability of many news­papers because of liquor advertising to have “the independent attitude necessary in matters of controversy about Govern­ment policy in respect to liquor that they certainly ought to have. Since the press has shown itself determined to persist in this shameful alliance with the liquor business, then Congress ought to end it by a statute outlawing the passage of liquor advertising through the mails.”

The liquor seller has often been the target for editorial blasts from the Moni­tor: “Many courts are more than lenient with drunken drivers even when they kill innocent people. They act as if the drink were the culprit. Of course, it pays no penalty—or damages. Justice requires that this gap be closed. It can be if more responsibility is placed from one side on the drinker and from theother on those who promote his drink- »in g .

The use of women as liquor sales pro­moters brought this Monitor comment:

“This announcement should arouse a public too long apathetic toward the devastating inroads alcohol is m aking on American society. W om en’s clubs invite representatives of the National Council on Alcoholism to speak to them and describe its projects for attempting to rescue alcoholics. W ill they lend themselves to this campaign to make more alcoholics to be rescued? Will they also open their doors to women representing the distillers who are pour­ing millions of dollars into advertising to make drinking attractive to men, young people, and now to the mother of the fam ily?”

W ide coverage has been given by the Monitor to the question of drinking on airplanes and its relation to public safety. In a special interview Rowland Quinn, Jr., president of the Air Line Stewards and Stewardesses Association, was asked whether he felt that the serving of liquor rs a motive for passengers choosing par­ticular airlines, thus justifying airline claims of its need in order to meet com­petition.

“People don’t fly because they can

drink,” he replied. “They fly because of the convenience of getting from one place to another. If liquor were banned from the airways, I don’t think there would be a single passenger who would choose another mode of transportation —just so he could drink.”

In his book Commitment to Freedom, Erwin Canham, long-time Monitor editor, tells its unique story. “Christian Scientists do not smoke, nor do they drink alcoholic stimulants,” he explains. “These concepts are part of their re­ligious conviction—which is to maintain m an’s freedom from enslavement to any false appetite. Addiction, especially to habits which also become social evils, is contrary to the basic teachings of Christian Science.”

Mary Baker Eddy, founder of Chris­tian Science, wrote in her book Miscel­laneous Writings'.

“Strong drink is unquestionably an evil, and evil cannot be used temperately;

its slightest use is abuse; hence the only temperance is total abstinence.” Mem­bers of the Christian Science churches therefore are abstainers.

Christian Science Monitor Youth Forums, with a world-wide member­ship, play an important part in the movement’s alcohol education work and offer opportunity for social and cultural activities as well as congenial compan­ionship without recourse to smoking or drinking. These well-attended groups, organized to study the purpose and in­ternational scope of the newspaper for which they are named, are a vital coun­teracting influence to thousands of young people, helping them better to meet almost overwhelming pressures of modern society.

To The Christian Science Monitor, this phase of alcohol education is but another weapon in its unceasing battle against liquor, a warfare it plans to continue as long as the need exists.

29

CITY ON THE MEND

( Continued jrom page 7) T h o u g h accepted by m ost Philadelphians as a stepping-

stone to better liv ing in their city, D ilw o rth ’s tavern- lim iting proposal d rew im m ediate fire from the liquor industry . T h e Pennsylvania T avern A ssociation’s official paper, Tap and Tavern, accused the m ayor of insu lting the industry by depicting taverns as centers of vice, gam ­bling, and narcotics sales. T h e publication headlined an editorial on the subject, “A Vicious A ttack on T averns.”

Since m ak ing his original recom m endations, D ilw orth has added new provisions to the proposals and is backing a b ipartisan bill a t the Pennsylvania capitol in H arrisb u rg for early consideration by the state legislature. “T h e liquor interests speak piously bu t m ain tain a pow erful lobby to block any reform s we try to have m ade,” says D ilw orth . “T h e police are constantly patro lling these taproom s, guard in g against law breaking, and this takes them away from g u ard in g hom es of P h iladelph ia citizens.”

O n m any of the city’s streets little provision is m ade to keep young m inds and the lawless atm osphere of taverns separated. O n one P hiladelph ia corner a young N eg ro policew om an po in ted ou t the source of yells com ing from a school p layground. “T hose k ids’ voices? W hy , they’re cornin’ from tha t alley dow n there. Y ou see tha t bar there on the alley corner ? T h e kids go past the bar to their play­g ro u nd ; i t ’s ju st dow n the alley a little ways.”

D id she th in k the bar m ig h t have an influence on the ch ild ren? “I d o n ’t see how it could help bu t have some influence,” she answ ered. “T hey see everything that goes on in there. W h en a fellow or a gal gets th row n out for ge tting rough, or gets too m uch under his belt, the kids see it. T hey hear the cussin’ and sw earin’ and see the conduct of the people in there. T hey can’t help bu t pick up some of that. Yeh, I reckon they are influenced qu ite a b it.”

M ayor D ilw o rth ’s goal of lim iting taverns to one for every 1,000 persons w ill no t be easily achieved. “T h e tru th of the m atter is tha t Philadelph ia now has all the taverns tha t can exist in the city,” explains Clifford B renner. “As things are now , the only tim e a new bar can com e into existence is w hen an old one closes. T h e trouble is tha t no direction is given by the L iquo r C ontrol Board, a state agency, as to w here the new bar is to be placed. So we can, and do, have areas in the city w here there are several bars in one block and other areas w here there are no bars in an area of several blocks. It tends to sw am p some areas w ith the com m odity—liquor—and too often this sw am ping builds up in low-incom e areas.”

Philadelphia adm inistrators are also fighting the de­pressing city housing problem . Several am bitious projects are already under way, w ith m ore on the p lann ing boards. A huge redevelopm ent p rog ram w ill provide a spacious p a rk in the dow ntow n area, inc lud ing historic churches and fam ed Independence Square w ith its sacred shrines of history. Closer code inspections w ill assure better build­ing in the fu ture, say city planners, and some fourteen m ajor housing projects of a private nature are beginning.

It takes tim e to m end the problem s of a g reat city like Philadelphia, w hich has had a centuries-long build-up of trouble spots since its founding in 1682. B ut the present

city adm inistration believes tha t success w ill come, for public opinion is strongly behind the cu rren t cam paign. T h ree Philadelphia new spapers—the Bulletin, th e In­quirer, and the Daily N ew s—have done m uch to create a public awareness and dem and for the changes, and they appear dedicated to a continuation of the ir hard -h itting , fact-finding journalistic endeavor.

“T h ere are a lot of problem s ahead,” adm its M ayor D ilw o rth ’s office, “bu t we believe tha t the people of Phila­delphia w ant these problem s solved. T h ey realize tha t it w ill cost m oney and tha t it w ill requ ire ex traordinary effort to lick some of these difficult th ings.”

“People aren’t ignoring crim e any m ore as they once w ere,” states M r. B renner. “T hey are now dem and ing tha t crime, and the m u ltitude of problem s w hich con­tribu te to it, be stopped, no m atter w hat the cost so long as they see their m oney is well spent.”

M any Philadelphians are no t convinced tha t they are g e tting their full do llar’s w orth yet, bu t practically all of them will concede tha t progress is being m ade, tha t their city is on the m end. W h o know s? they say—som eday the city m igh t really become a beacon o f hope to o ther large cities by licking its problem s. T h en Philadelphians can once again claim w ith fu ll p ride the title, “City of B rotherly Love.”

TEEN TALK

( Continued from Page 16)

w ho d rink at slum ber parties and occasions like that? In o ther words, w hen girls are alone, and they go in for a beer by themselves ?T om : T h a t is like w hat Jan said about the boys getting together and seeing w ho can guzzle the m ost the fastest —“I can ‘chug-a-lug’ and you can’t.” It is w hen they get together in a g roup they try to “go off.” T h a t is one of the reasons they d rink .Moderator: W h at about the girls, D o n na ? W hy do they d rink at slum ber parties ?D onna: I don ’t know . I don’t th ink girls should d rink . I myself d on ’t approve of g irls’ d rink in g at slum ber parties, because I d on ’t th ink it is very ladylike. A ctually, I d o n ’t th in k girls should d rink unaccom panied, or anyw here, for tha t m atter./an: W hen boys and girls get together at parties, or in recreational groups, they feel out of place. T hey have n o th in g in their hands. T hey have to do som ething w ith their hands. P u t a cigarette there, or a glass of beer, and they feel m uch better, for m ost of the crow d is do ing it. T om : A t m any parties I have been to, m aybe the parents d o n ’t serve it, and it’s no t served by the children, b u t if you go outside and look in the trunks of the cars, there always seems to be a bottle som ew here a round at alm ost every party. N ow , th a t’s n o t the way to do it, but if you had a party a t your house and fifteen of your friends cam e w ith their dates, and they w ere all ge tting stone d ru n k in the basem ent, and the cops rolled up— D onna: A re these good students, or athletes, or just run- of-the-mill kids ?R onyl: I th ink it doesn’t particularly com e dow n as to w hether they are good students or athletic students. F or the m ost part, I w ould guess, at least d u rin g athletic

3°

seasons, tha t the students w ho partic ipate in athletics stay o il d rink .Jan: I played on last year’s cham pionship team at m y h igh school, and this year I play on the same team . It seems to m e tha t 60 per cent of the fellows on the team w ere heavier d rinkers than the rest of the school, at least on special occasions. T hey try to abstain at o ther tim es. T om : I th in k one of the reasons such students are heavier d rinkers is tha t they are supposed to be athletic, sup­posed to be strong, and they are try ing to prove tha t in m ore than one way. If they can show tha t they can hold the ir liquor, it is a way of p rov ing them selves to o ther people.Jan: I ’d say tha t about 75 per cent on our football team this year belong to fraternities. But let m e m ake plain tha t fraternities are no t affiliated w ith the school. T h e ir m em bers m erely attend school.M oderator: D onna , from your observations, w hat is the percentage am ong the high-school set at your school who d rink ?D onna: It is h a rd to specify a definite percentage, because there is alw ays a sm all group of kids w ho go ou t every Saturday n ig h t and “chug-a-lug” and really get d ru n k . T hey d o n ’t do it for enjoym ent, they just do it. I w ould say m aybe 50 per cent of the upperclassm en have at least tasted d rink or tried it, bu t it is h a rd to be definite because the teen-agers m igh t d rink for a few weeks and then qu it, or they’ll do it only, say, at C hristm astim e or for a cele­bration .T om : In the schools I ’ve run into I’ve found tha t from 60 to 80 per cent of the student body have at one tim e or ano ther had contact w ith d rink ing , and no t just an in tro ­duction from their parents, as m entioned earlier. M oderator: T h a t raises a point, Jan. D o you th in k par­ents should forbid their children to d rin k w hile they are teen-agers ?Jan: N o , I am very m uch against tha t. I w ould stress, of course, the need for educating, but if parents forbid d rin k ­ing, tha t is absolutely w rong. F irs t of all, it arouses curi­osity, and a person w ill w ant to try som ething th a t is fo rb idden to see w hat it is like. Second, m any children are against the ir paren ts’ con tro lling them so m uch. D onna: I th in k tha t by the tim e you are a teen-ager you are to be a young adult, and should have the chance to m ake this decision for yourself. B ut you should be in­fo rm ed ; you should know the effects of alcoholic bever­ages. Y ou yourself should m ake the decision if you are go ing to d rin k ; and if you decide to d rink , then, w here, w hen, how m uch, and w ith w hom .Ronyl: If you m ake a decision no t to d rink , w hat influ­ences you to m ake tha t decision ?D onna: I th in k there are m any teen-agers w ho don’t d rink , because the ir religion says they shou ldn’t. M any of them respect their parents, at least enough to w ait un til perhaps they are in college, or are adults. O thers d on ’t like the taste of an alcoholic beverage.Jan: W h a t you said about learn ing the facts is im portan t, because it seems to m e tha t in these days the advertisers are com m ercializing beverages too m uch. T h ey ’ll show only one side, the g lam our side, of a m an slightly older than a teen-ager, bu t teen-agers apply it to themselves. T h ey see others d rink ing , and it looks like the proper

and righ t th in g to do. T h a t is all w rong. If the adver­tisers showed, for exam ple, a com m ercial of a m an lying in the gu tter, or one alcoholic beating up another alco­holic, then they w ould be show ing m ore of the tru th . W hen , how ever, they p u t up these interesting beer ads, everybody pays atten tion , for they’re glam orous.R onyl: Such ads are directed to the teen-agers; the peo­ple appearing in them epitom ize the best things for the best teen-girls, the boys are the m ost debonair and charm ing.D onna: T h a t’s n a tu ra l for any com m ercial. Y ou have to m ake a com m ercial appeal to people. Surely, by the tim e you are a jun io r or senior in h igh school you are old enough to see w h at’s righ t and w h a t’s w rong. If you know w h a t’s righ t and w h a t’s w rong, I don ’t th ink a com m ercial can influence you m uch.M oderator: D o you th in k an educational program at school w ould help, T o m ?T om : D efinitely. W e have such a program at school, bu t i t ’s not all i t’s supposed to be. O u r hygiene class is sup­posed to include facts about separate things in it, such as d rink ing , bu t it doesn’t get dow n to the real facts as m uch as it should. I th ink young people get m ore on this subject in the ir d river education classes than they do in hygiene classes.

FATHER'S DAY ON SKID ROW

( Continued from page 10) the calendar— June 2 1 . H e rose quickly. H is children w ould be here any m om ent. H e m ust be ready. H is hands w ere shak ing badly. T ak in g the bottle from under the bed, he poured the last bit of w ine into a broken cup. T h en he pu t the bottle to his lips to d ra in the few drops tha t m ig h t have eluded the cup.

H e was trem bling violently as he dressed. H e needed a d rink badly now , bu t he could no t leave the room . T h ere m igh t be a call for h im any m inu te from his son, o r from his daughter. T h e old m an said the w ords aloud m any tim es, “M y daughter, my son, m y daughter, my son.”

H e finished dressing. H e was neat, and in the lapel of his torn coat he pu t a carnation someone had th row n away. H e counted his m oney—35 cents! H e could buy a bottle of cheap w ine. But, no, he w ould not d rink today. H e could and he w ould change. As it was F a th e r’s D ay, his children w ould w an t to take h im hom e. H e w ould visit w ith his grandchild ren . A nd m aybe they w ould w ant h im to stay. H e w ou ldn ’t, of course—but to be w anted, just to be w anted.

H e w aited all day for the call tha t never came.T here w ere only a few w ho saw h im die. Early on the

m orn ing of June 22 he purposelessly w alked in fron t of a thu n d erin g truck. T h e truck driver could not stop.

T h e tired and now completely broken body was duly carted away. Personal possessions were recorded. T hey w ould be held for the next of k in : his son, his daughter.

N ow , w h at on earth w ould they do w ith a cheap calendar, a calendar tha t had June 2 1 carefully circled and as carefully crossed out, a calendar flyspecked—and was it tear-stained? T h en , of course, there was the thirty-five cents!

3 1

ENGINE TROUBLE

"Learning by Living"D e a r S i r :

If more people could read such an article ( “Learning by Living,” January- February, 1958), especially those with children, and take it to heart, the world could become a better world very soon.

To start with prevention from the beginning of life—through right edu­cation—seems to me the only sound way to preserve our nation.

M r s . N a n c y O . S h a e f e r . Covina, California

Thought Instead of EmotionD e a r S i r :

W hen I was looking for a market for a baseball story I had written and came upon your name and magazine, I was reminded of the correspondence we had in 1954 about alcoholism.

I was for rehabilitation of the alco­holic. You were all for prevention of alcoholism rather than treatment and rehabilitation. Needless to say, I have come around to your way of thinking. The pathetic cases of alcoholics that I was powerless to help convinced me that something drastic has to be done.

I know now that if you can prevent a person from beginning to drink, there is no need for rehabilitation. Perhaps I matured enough to use reason in my thinking instead of emotion.

H o w a r d A . L a v e l l e . Roc/(away Beach, N ew Yor^

To the LawyersD e a r S i r :

Listen is splendid. I sent copies to ten Sunnyvale lawyers with the hope that the article “This Barrister Shuns the Bar” might sow some good seed. The question-and-answer panel with Nancy Norris is also fine.

I only wish that Listen could be a visitor in every home.

M r s . W a l t e r Je n s e n . Sunnyvale, California

w Listen” to

Our Readers

On the Bulletin BoardD e a r S i r :

For some time there has come to my study the copy of Listen magazine, which I have appreciated receiving.

I have on occasion cut material and placed it on the bulletin board so that young people in our Sunday school m ight see it, such as the fine article about Nancy Norris (Sept.-Oct., 1958). But this still does not begin to reach the num ber of young people who might be reached by the wider distribution of some of your good material.

G. R ic h a r d T u t t l e , Minister First Methodist Church Sunnyside, Washington

Billy Olson CoverD e a r S i r :

W e are thrilled with the issue show­ing Billy Olson on the cover. The pho­tographer did a lovely job on that cover.

P h y l l is S o m e r v il l e Eau Claire, Wisconsin

A Good SuggestionD e a r S i r :

You will be glad to know that we were successful in our referendum. Some 2,800 voted on the issue, and we won by 350 votes. Now it is illegal to sell any intoxicating beverages or to serve them in clubs within the city limits of Gainesville.

At the last meeting of the Ministerial Association, I instigated a motion to have a permanent committee composed of ministers and laymen to promote tem­perance on a year-round basis.

R. M. R ufGainesville, Georgia

"Outstanding"D e a r S i r :

Mrs. W hite and I over the last week­end spent considerable time with the January-February issue of Listen, and we just want to tell you how much we appreciate the fine work on the maga­zine. Really, it is outstanding.

A r t h u r L . W h it e Washington, D.C.

( Continued from page 24)

The other boys jum ped to their feet, excitedly.

“Oh, you’ve got to earn it,” said the judge. H e met the bewilderment in the boys’ faces with a smile.

“You see, I had to earn it before I got it,” the judge declared. “Fve had to earn a lot of things. I don’t have any family, but I’m able to have these things by doing for others. I want to share them with you now.”

“Do you mean you’re going to give us these tracks and trains?” asked one boy. “W here could we put them ?”

“I said you had to earn them. You boys did enough to be sent to reform school.” The judge hesitated.

“I don’t want to handle your case that way,” continued the judge. “I guess I really don’t need these trains any more —not as much as you do. You’re going to have charge of them in the new boys’ club being built.”

“You mean, Judge—” T hat was all Jimmy could say.

“W e’ll put you boys on probation. W hen the club gets going, you will organize a model railroad room on one floor. You will have to set up the room, and most of the responsibility for tak­ing care of it will be yours. Carry it out, and there will be no reform school.”

“Oh, thanks, Judge.” The chorus of voices was excited with enthusiasm.

“You see,” said the judge, “there are other ways to get excitement than by throwing rocks. Running these trains can be exciting, and it’s all w ithin the law, too. Let’s see what good railroad men you can be. If you run into engine trouble, I ’ll try to help you, as one rail­road man to another. Now clear out, boys. I’ll see you next Tuesday after­noon down at the new club. See how many boys you can get interested.”

The boys made a noisy departure, thanking the judge, promising their sup­port in the new venture.

The judge turned to the two am azed men, who watched the departing boys.

“Well, I ’ll be, Judge!” Mike Faverty spoke first. “How did you happen to think of something like that?”

The judge fingered the switches on the control table, with a reminiscent smile on his face. “It has been many months since I have been down in this room. I used to spend a lot of time w orking on these trains. I got inter­ested in them when I was a boy on the East Side, just like Jimmy. Then one day I met old Judge Ronen, and he told me about trains. You see, men,” the judge spoke slowly, “I once had engine trouble, too.”

32

Wind WaysBertha R. H udelson

There is a secret place beyond The rim of heaven's blue

Where little winds are daily born,Each knowing what to do.

The cold winds rush to hold the North In white captivity,

While gentle winds imbue the South With sweet complacency.

The strong winds whirl to mountains, seas; And sultry winds that blow

Wrap drowsy lands in silence as They idly come and go.

The cold winds show the power of God,The gentle ones, His love;

The strong, His strength, while sultry ones Bring peace that dwells above.

The AdventurerC la re n ce Ed w in Flynn

Man pierced the jungle, and tamed it With a strong, adventurous hand.

He met the desert, and claimed it,And built a home on the sand.

He found the ocean, and sailed it,And made a road for his fleet.

He saw a summit, and hailed it As another lure for his feet.

He scorned the tempests that ravage.He banished the famine's grim dearth;

Subdued the wild beast, and savage, And pestilence stalking the earth.

He plans to take space by stages,And reap much celestial pelf.

Who knows? In the sweep of the ages He may even conquer himself!

All GoodEm ily M a y Young

It's good To have money,And good to have things to buy,And not to lose the things that money Can't buy.

Richer TonightD ella A d a m s Le itner

Today my earnings have been spent For needed things to live,

And as I met them all I found That I a tithe could give.

But other things I gave as well:A word of helpful cheer,

A call on one forlorn and lone,A smile for loved ones near,

A mercy errand that required I suddenly should go

With word of hope to one bereaved

Whose heart was crushed with woe.

The time it took, the effort made,I do not think as spent;

God gave the opportunity,I used what He had lent.

Because I gave I am not shorn;I'm richer than I was at morn.

The Lasting GiftD aw n F la n e ry P arker

An artist may give of his talent,The rich may give of their pelf,

But the one who gives the most Is the one who gives of himself.

Just doing small deeds of kindness Will make one's memory live;

Both riches and fame may fade, But not the love that you give.

Poems With a Purposeby “L isten” A uthors

Puritanical PavementE. J . R itter, Jr.

We went from mountains, south, and very soon We left the sandy mesa lands, and came

To where we met a northward-traveling June Beside a dark bayou that had no name.

The Spanish moss made curtains for the flight Of silver birds who screamed a curse upon

The ones who dared to flash an auto light And fool them into thinking it was dawn.

The water hyacinths made isles of blue In jet-black water. How I wished to take

A crooked path that turned and led into The mystery and magic of a lake

That had no shore to end my w ay—but, no,The straight-edged pavement led where I must go.

HARRISON'S HONOR CLASS

( Continued, from page 9 ) babying his alcoholics. Both at his meetings and in court, he makes them feel they do something wrong when they drink.

One of the judge’s best cases is a man who had been arrested three hun­dred times for drinking. This m an’s first meeting was during the judge’s second class. H e hasn’t missed a meet­ing since, and is now w orking for the state as an engineer, has had sev­eral salary increases, and owns his own car.

One of the members of his class, Jack, missed his morning bus on the way to a job the judge had helped him get. On the next bus a boy sat down beside him, a boy the same age as Jack’s own boy.

O n the ride to town Jack asked the boy his name. W hen he was told, Jack exclaimed, “I ’m your father.”

Pressing a $5 bill in the boy’s hand, money that a few months before would have been spent for liquor, he said, “If it’s O.K. with your mother, I would like to take you to dinner.”

Now he is reacquainted with his son, and may work out a reconciliation with his wife.

Not only does Judge H arrison try to find jobs for those attending his classes, but he also has launched a clothing campaign for them. Overcoats are ap­preciated more than anything else.

A man determined to help those who are unfortunate, Judge H arrison has launched something which is giving a big boost to the curtailment of alco­holism in Des Moines. Its influence is already spreading far beyond that area.

A BETTER WAY

( Continued from page 14) Many people need a listening ear, a sympathetic heart, and guidance.

Many people are tired—tired, perhaps, with too much work, too much responsi­bility, or maybe too much shopping. They need a place to rest for a while. They could go into a restaurant if they were hungry, or into an ice-cream par­lor, or into a bar if they were thirsty. But often people need only a comfort­able lounge chair in a good environment.

Sometimes people have jangled nerves from too much confusion, overcrowded living quarters, quarreling children, wrangling families. W here, if it is cold or rainy, can such people go for a bit of peace? Sometimes perhaps to a church, if the door is unlocked as is often the case with Catholic churches, seldom with Protestant churches; maybe

Keep Your M otor GoingS y lv ia E. C la rk

W hen you are motorboating, the most im portant rule is to keep your motor going. If you do, no m atter how strong the wind or tide against you, you can steer. On the other hand, if you get scared and shut off your motor, or let it stop, your boat will roll in the troughs of the waves and swamp. Or, unguided, it will pile up on any reef in its way. You’re lost!

So it is in life. If you keep the motor of your will power going, you can steer your life away from even the worst moral hazards. W hen the current of misfortune is strong, or tempestuous seas of temptation are breaking all around you, if you’re still under the power of your will, you can pilot the little ship of your life into a safe port.

to a Christian Science reading room, or a library, or a theater.

A serviceman can solve such problems by going to the USO. There he will find companions, cozy chairs, writing tables, nonalcoholic beverages. But the rest of us mortals, excepting wealthy men who belong to clubs, just don’t have anything like a USO. The nearest thing—and yet how far away in spirit —is the bar.

There is a need for a place where lonely, tired, or discouraged people of any age can find a haven, where they can find warmth, shelter, and friendship.

W ould the Biblical injunction to go out into the highways and byways not mean getting down closer to the level of the common people in their specific

needs? W ould it be possible for com­munity groups to be organized to take over stores in shopping areas that are also close to apartm ent houses or rooming-house districts? These stores might be furnished w ith armchairs, small tables, lamps, books, pictures, flowers. Signs in the window could invite people to come in and rest awhile. Small refreshments could be sold to help pay the rent of the store. Arrangements might be made with bakeries for their day-old cakes. The sale would keep people from feeling like beggars.

Men and women from churches could be on hand to encourage the guests to talk if they wished. Perhaps a little private room or two could be provided for counseling. A complete list of all social agencies should be on hand for reference when advisable. Often fami­lies could be brought together, sick or impoverished people brought to the at­tention of proper agencies. A t other times weary shoppers could get a little rest before continuing their rounds.

WINE OUT OF "WINERY"

( Continued from page 21) from Europe. T urn ing at 6,000 revolu­tions a minute, this machine handles 1,800 gallons of grape juice an hour.

D uring the rush season at the time of harvest this plant operates day and night.

Considerable progress and grow th is evident at the Lodi Grape Products Co­operative Association, but its managers and workers feel that this is only the beginning of the possibilities that lie ahead as men of conviction and courage unite to put the products of nature to their best use.

LIS T A Journal o f Better Living,

has the facts— order today

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■ INFORMATIVE One year (6 issues), only $2.00.iA SCIENTIFIC Enclosed find $ f o r ciF . POSITIVE -year subscription to LISTEN

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LISTEN, A Journal of Better LivingPublication Office, 1350 Villa Street

Mountain View, California

34

G ood R eason“A drunken driver is like a crazy man

with a loaded g u n ! . . .“Every week between thirty-five and

forty people are brought before me on a charge of driving under the influence of alcohol. To my way of thinking, that is thirty-five to forty potential murderers.

“Let’s face it. A car is one of the most destructive machines ever invented. W hen a drunk gets behind the wheel, chances are good that someone, maybe you or me, is going to be killed.”— Judge George B. Cavanagh, traffic court judge in Baltimore, Maryland.H ea lth fo r C ary G ran t

Asked about his youthfulness and en­thusiasm, fifty-four-year-old Cary Grant, who looks thirty-four, replied: “I’m a little tired of that subject. I don’t feel that I’m particularly healthy. I just don’t drink or smoke. Yes, I used to. But why should I put poison into my body? It isn’t that I take such good care of my­self. It’s more that a lot of people don't take any care of themselves.”M ust Be T a u g h t

“There is a job of moral instruction to be done if the nation’s drinking habits are to be changed. Sobriety, aversion to drunkenness, the social evils and moral deterioration which accompany alcohol, and the responsibility each of us bears not to further the weakness of a fellow man—these must be taught primarily in the churches and in character-centered organizations.”—Wayne D. Williams, in The Christian Century, Nov. 5, 1958 .P recau tio n A bandoned

“The real highway delinquent ap­pears to be the so-called social drinker. The driver who has had just enough alcohol in his system to release his in­hibitions, who has reached the state of apparent stimulation or has a false sense of well-being, is the one who forms a significant link in the causal chain of many traffic accidents.

“Since his moral code is temporarily relaxed, the driver with ‘only a few’ tends to abandon normal precautions. He often submits to an urge to use a heavy foot on the accelerator, to pass when other cars are approaching, to take over the right of way or create

tight squeezes as if he owned the road.“Unfortunately, this ‘superman com­

plex’ is acquired by the drinking driver at a time when his physical and mental qualifications for driving have been seriously impaired.”—Report by the As­sociation of Casualty and Surety Com­panies.S pu r to A lcoholism

“The type of noon meal eaten by most Americans consists of quickly absorbable

carbohydrates. This leads to a high blood sugar level soon after lunch, fol­lowed by extremely low blood sugar at the time of the cocktail hour.

“Thus, the individual begins this hour in a state of general starvation plus a specific starvation for sugar—an in­ternal environment that provides the central nervous system with little pro­tection against the toxic effects of ex­cessive amounts of alcohol.”—Dr. Gior­gio Lilli.

Canadian Reporter Ribs Cocktail Parties“H igh on the list of occupational hazards among news­

men covering the capital are Ottawa cocktail parties. These are more numerous per head of population than elsewhere in Canada because of the presence of impressive diplomatic m issions.. . .

“But they are also more frustrating. You must expect to be bored at any cocktail party anywhere, unless you are a self- panicker and generate your own excitement. But here in Ottawa, you find yourself being bored by some of the finest brains and highest-priced help in the Dominion. You meet the great man at last, but in that noise all you can hear him say is ‘Ug-gug-gug,’ an unsatisfactory opinion for a quota­tion. . . .

“Then why do I still go to them? A nice question. I suppose it is because I am a reporter. N ot that any reporter gets any real pabulum, pay dirt, at Ottawa cocktail parties. No, it is rather that, since I am a reporter, I have to listen to the great and the good making speeches. I have to endure the lobby wits repeating themselves, and try to pretend I under­stand financial wizards when they whizz off into open market operations.

“To me it is no frustration but actually something of a re­lief to hear them saying, for a change, just ‘Ug-gug-gug.’ In­comprehensible, but comforting—and down to my own level.”—John Bird, Toronto Star correspondent.

Our Drinking Diplomats“I don’t want to administer any shocks that my constituents

may not be conditioned to absorb; but there is a certain amount of drinking on the part of United States Government officials stationed in Spain.

“In fact, if some of these transplanted public servants do not exercise eternal vigilance, they are apt to get their pro­fessional life hopelessly entangled with their social, and never be quite sure whether they are drinking during working hours or working during drinking hours.”—George Dixon, from Madrid, in San Francisco Examiner.

Columbus, Ohio, has been called the "sw im ­ming capital of the nation," largely because of the am azing record compiled by dim inutive Mike Peppe, Ohio State University's swimming and diving coach.

From nothing, a few years ago, OSU sw im ­mers rose to national prominence, securing a virtual stranglehold on all national diving titles. Three times Mike's Buckeyes registered "grand slam s" of all major swimming titles, the first time a college team achieved this feat more than once. In his nearly three decades as coach he has produced at least twoscore out­standing athletes who have won 300 major individual titles.

His world fam e w as made as diving coach in three separate Olympics, when his boys placed first in both the springboard and plat­form events. One third of the 1952 Olympic team representing the United States were cur­rent or former members of Mike's Ohio State teams.

OHIO’S

SWIMMING

COACH

Interview by W arren N .

W ittenberg

"W e do not permit any member of our swimming or diving teams to use alcoholic beverages or tobacco in any form or quantity. These products are incompatible with success in sports. They are harmful physically, as w ell as definitely militating against good morals."