Page 2/The Battalion/Thursday, October 22, 1987
H
Opinion
Don’t underestimate dangers of alcoho
It’s alcohol
awareness week,
and that’s
important news
because too many
people in the
college setting
don’t take alcohol
seriously. This
isn’t a lecture. It’s
simply the truth.
A person can be
responsible, or he
can chance losing a few friends — or
himself. I’ve taken the risk. It wasn’t
worth it. The lesson learned doesn’t go
away in a month or a year. It doesn’t
ever go away.
I had the opportunity to go to the
Motley Crue concert ir\Dallas with a few
friends last month. I didn’t go because I
didn’t want to be a passenger in the car
with a drunk driver. I tried to convince
the driver that I was concerned for his
safety as well as my own. It didn’t make
a difference, but I’m glad I took a stand.
In 1985 I was confronted with a
similar decision. I made the wrong
choice. I didn’t drive with my drunk
friend, but I also didn’t tell him how I
felt about him driving drunk. I didn’t
try to stop him from driving, although I
should have. It might have made a
difference. Or it might not have. I’ll
never know now.
The scene was fairly typical, a group
of friends sitting in a bar having a few
drinks to bid farewell to an old buddy.
Someone suggested moving the party to
another bar in the next town. Everyone
agreed, except me.
I was afraid to drive with a drunk, but
I was more afraid of being honest and
revealing my apprehension. I didn’t
want everyone to think I was a prude. I
didn’t want to put a damper on the
group’s good time. I lied. I said I had to
go home early and couldn’t go with
them.
The lie saved my life. I wasn’t in the
van when it flipped and hit eight trees.
Two other people weren’t that lucky.
They can’t read this column because
they aren’t alive today.
Bill, the driver of the van, called me
the morning after the accident to tell me
the details. I will never forget them.
The van was traveling faster than 80
m.p.h. when Bill lost control. It ran off
the side of the road and hit eight trees.
The last thing Bill remembered before
he passed out was seeing the police
arrive. He wasn’t aware of the condition
of the passengers.
He said he wasn’t driving very fast
because for him 80 m.p.h. wasn’t fast —
he owned a high-performance sports
car. Unfortunately, a van does not
perform like a sports car, but he was too
drunk to make the discrimination.
I went to see the van after the
accident. It moved me to tears. I don’t
understand how two out of the four
people survived. The van was ripped in
half. It looked like a crumpled toy.
I lost touch with Bill after the
accident. He was a different person. He
had to deal with the emotional
repercussions of being responsible for
taking two people’s lives. He went to
Pennsylvania. I didn’t hear from him
until October.
Bill asked me to testify on his behalf
during his trial. He had been charged
with DVVI and manslaughter. I was the
last person to see him before the
accident. I was the one witness the court
needed to confirm the blood test that
proved Bill was intoxicated at the time
of the accident. I had to tell the truth. I
was no use to the defense.
I declined to testify depite the fact
that his family offered to pay my travel
expenses. Bill’s lawyer agreed it was best
It’s time to confess:
My sins keep me out
of presidential race
There used to
be the belief in this
country that
“every little boy
has a chance to
grow up to be
president.” •
What we really
meant back then
was every child
had a chance to
grow up to be
president, but
Sajak on “Wheel of Fortune” one day. I
might even become a television
evangelist myself. It’s inside work with
no heavy lifting, and the pay is great.
I simply want to get the past off my
chest before the leeches have a chance
to latch hold of me.
Lewis
Grizzard
back then, how were we to know little
girls would someday care about
anything but a degree in home
economics and and a husband with a
hairy chest?
What else we didn’t know is that
presidential politics would become a
steady exercise in muckraking, and
when a little boy or little girl grew up
and tried to be president, somebody
would dig each and every wart out of
their past.
We know what happened to Gary
Hart and Joe Biden and their
presidential bids. We found out Hart
fooled around with the ladies and Biden
fooled around with the truth.
Let’s start at the beginning:
• When I was 6, my mother served
liver one night, and I got rid of mine by
feeding it to the dog under the table.
“Did you eat your liver or did you
give it to the dog?” my mother asked.
I lied and said I ate it. Worse, my dog
was sick for weeks from the liver and
died.
• When I was 11,1 bought some
dirty pictures from a friend at school.
Every guy did that, I suppose — but I
still have mine.
• When I was 14,1 tried to put my
hand inside Kathy Sue Loudermilk’s
sweater.
Now, we come to Republican
candidate Pat Robertson, the evangelist.
Turns out, according to the Wall Street
Journal, Robertson gambled, drank,
and caroused his way through college,
and when he married his wife, she was
already seven months pregnant.
I gave up on the hope of this little boy
ever growing up to be president a long
time ago. Actually, I don’t want to be
president.
Regardless of that, however, I feel the
compelling need to go ahead and reveal
the sordid shortcomings of my past
before somebody else, for whatever
reasons, might start digging through it.
Who knows? I might replace Pat
I wasn’t successful, however. There
wasn’t room for anything else inside of
Kathy Sue’s sweater.
• When I was 17,1 cheated on a
history exam. I couldn’t remember
Millard Fillmore’s first name.
• When I was 27,1 folded, mutilated
and spindled a computer card.
• When I was 35, I said to somebody,
“It takes one to know one.” I stole that
from Alvin Bates, who used to say the
same thing back in high school.
• Last year, when I was 40, I said,
“What this country needs on the
Supreme Court is a jurist like Robert
Bork.”
There it is, and I feel a lot better now
that it’s all out in the open.
Meanwhile, did you hear one of the
presidential canididates is gay?
Copyright 1987, Cowles Syndicate
The Battalion
(USPS 045 360)
Member of
Texas Press Association
Southwest Journalism Conference
The Battalion Editorial Board
Sondra Pickard, Editor
John Jarvis, Managing Editor
Sue Krenek, Opinion Page Editor
Rodney Rather, City Editor
Robbyn Lister, News Editor
Loyd Brumfield, Sports Editor
Tracy Staton, Photo Editor
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that I not appear. The evidence against
Bill was damning enough without me
telling the court that he appeared to be
drunk when he left the bar.
court is nothing compared to the guilt
he must live with.
I learned a valuable lesson. I wish it
hadn’t taken death to make me learn it.
act may be with you foriherestof
life. It could save or destroy a frie
life.
The trial ended. The verdict was
guilty. The sentence was a short jail
term and probation. Bill went back to
Pennsylvania to live with his family. He
doesn’t talk to any of his old friends
anymore. The sentence given by the
Every person has a responsibility that
extends beyond not driving drunk. It is
important to have a social conscience.
It’s important to stand up for your
beliefs even under real or imagined
peer pressure. Your decision on how to
1 had the opportunity to make™
same decision again about the conn
had a second chance, and 1 made
right choice. Better late than never.
D. A. Jensen is a senior journalism
major and a columnist forTht
Battalion.
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Mail Call
No concept of engineering
EDITOR:
frats — since the beginning.
Matt Flanagan ’90
ie said, wi
vent.
Denman
lomic prob
memplovm
After reading Brian Frederick’s column of Oct. 20, it
occurs to me that Mr. Frederick doesn’t seem to have the
slightest idea of what an engineering education consists of.
Theory is essential, and an engineer who does not fully
understand the system he or she is working with is a
dangerous person indeed. There are no solutions manuals
for unknown design problems, Mr. Frederick. A person
who tries to go through an engineering program byjust
learning to “p^ u g those numbers into the proper sequence
of formulas” will end up transferring to something less
rigorous, such as liberal arts. Please, Mr. Frederick, stick to
subjects you know something about.
Kevin Walters ’88
Tired of fraternity-bashing
EDITOR:
While standing with parents and friends in the Aggie
section at the Baylor game, we witnessed an incidentwhkl
caused us to question the true spirit of Aggieland. Asthe
captains of the two teams converged in the middle of the
Field it was announced that the game ball was being
presented by members of a fraternit y who had hiked the
game ball more than 100 miles from Kyle Field to Baylor
Stadium for the American Heart Association.
A&M doesn't need fraternities
EDITOR:
Since it appears to be that time of year when everyone
feels he knows what’s wrong with A&M, I am obligated to
add my two cents’ worth. In this day and age, when bonfire
has become an environmental hazard, grode stories are as
offensive as crude religious jokes, and a simple “howdy” is
as rare as a Sbisa dinner steak, another monster has reared
its ugly head here at A&M.
Much to our surprise and embarrassment, a waveof
hissing swept through the Aggie section when the word
“fraternity” was mentioned. As we looked around tosee
who was participating in this abortion of Aggie tradition,
we saw one of our symbols of Aggie spirit — our illustrious
yell leaders — blindly leading the horse’s laugh.
I hear that fraternities and sororities are on the rise
here at A&M. My main question: What good are they if
they don’t serve both the individual and the school? I have
yet to see a fraternity or sorority at bonfire cut, although I
have seen them have cute little bike races early on weekend
mornings. I know that many of these events raise money
for worthy charities, but how come I never hear of them
doing anything for the University? I’m all in favor of
service fraternities and the work they do, but I do have a
problem with frat daddies who spend all their time
matching socks at the Zephyr Club.
Slowly, this great University is becoming a lot like our
friend down the road, t.u. In a few years, Midnight Yell
Practice will be replaced by “harmless” frat parties, and
bonfire will be reduced to the burning of popsicle sticks on
fraternity row. So I make one last plea to the loyal Ags who
have yet to resign themselves to wearing letters on the
chest and bows in their hair: Keep the tradition alive! No
As Texas A&M has expanded to meet the needsof
more and more students, it has attracted a diverse group
of people with differing opinions and values. However,it
is our belief that most of these students were drawn to this
institution, at least in part, by the so-called Spirit of
Aggieland and its traditions. Believe it or not, this includes
Aggies who have elected to become members of Greek
organizations. Events such as biking the game ball fora
worthy cause seem to prove that these organizations are
indeed valuable assets to Texas A&M and not the anti
tradition liabilities some closed-minded individuals have
stereotyped them to be. So the next time you see thenaiw
of our school bettered by any organization, kindly giveit
the support and respect that “Good Ags” give all Ags.
Weren’t we taught in Fish Camp and at yell practice that
Aggies don’t hiss at Aggies? You tell us who were the
“Good Ags” at the Baylor game.
David Monk ’89
accompanied by two signatures
Letters to the editor should not exceed 300 words in length. The editoriahtaff
reserves the right to edit letters for style and length, but will make every effort to
maintain the author’s intent. Each letter must be signed and must include the
classification, address and telephone number of the writer.
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by Berke Breathe
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