My Sister, My Salvation
In late 1960, I started to drink alcohol in large amounts. I was probably in tenth grade at Montgomery Blair High School, in Silver Spring, Maryland. My friends and I would pile into a car, drive to a nearby shopping center and find a liquor store called Jet Liquors.
Its entire usefulness was that it sold hard liquor to us kids without much trouble. I loved the feeling it gave me. It made me feel powerful, carefree, the center of attention in the best possible way.
I drove home, lay down on my bed, and an hour or so later awakened covered in my own vomit. It smelled awful and felt awful. Plus, I was incredibly dizzy and basically could not walk.
I have had some incredible luck in my life. Being an American. Having powerful parents in DC. My sister is the best of all.
My glorious sister, Rachel, whose bedroom was next to mine, cried out, “Benjy has vomited on himself in his sleep.”
Mom said, “Good. Let him sleep in it.”
Rachel, three and a half years older than I was, ignored my Mother. She led me into my bathroom, gingerly took off my pajamas, and put me under the shower. Soon, I was bright and clean and new. That was about 66 years ago.
I still recall it as if it were yesterday. I am still prostrate with gratitude to my sister. We talk on the phone almost every day. She did me many other favors. She was a big power at Blair. She was a power at Wellesley. I was Best Man at her wedding to her brilliant husband, Melvin, who became a power on Wall Street. For the year that I was on the editorial page at the Wall Street Journal, I lived in Brooklyn Heights very near her.
Night after night she had me over for fabulously good meals. (At that time, before her health deteriorated, my SuperWife also cooked great meals for me. Later, she became a well-known lawyer in Hollywood, largely due to connections made by my agent, George Diskant, and his friend at Paramount, Don Simpson.)
I have had some incredible luck in my life. Being an American. Having powerful parents in DC. My sister is the best of all, except for my Goddess. I have not had a drink since 1988. Rachel, I love you and always will.
READ MORE from Ben Stein:
Thank You, Dear God, for Donald Trump
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