It was 1987. She was a government official at the time, handling multi-million-dollar budgets and real people’s lives. She had a staff of 20, knew everyone in the upper ranks and had access to the governor’s ear. She made a serious dent in the Massachusetts human services agency that she directed. When she left after a dozen years, at 58, it was a better department all around.
But while she was there, some of her staff knew there were problems. Not that there was anything suspicious on the job; in fact, there wasn’t. For 50 hours a week, she was a model administrator. After hours, however, was a different story. She began to drink shortly after 6 each evening when she’d pack her briefcase into the Buick and leave the office. As she drove onto the entrance ramp to the highway, she sipped vodka from the coffee thermos that sat all day in the trunk.
Who would question a good-looking, middle-aged woman in a suit, drinking from a thermos as she drove? No one, apparently. Not even when she sideswiped a car in the right lane of the turnpike on her way home. It was pure luck that nobody was hurt in the process ”“ she knew that when it happened. She was close enough to the office at the time that one of the policemen at the scene was someone she knew. He was helpful both at the scene and later, expediting the accident reports. At no point, however, did he comment about the liquor on her breath.
Then there was the night she was turned away from her favorite watering hole.
“We’re sorry,” the manager said, “but you’ve had too much to drink. We can’t let you in.”
Outraged and drunk, she argued with him.
“I’ll sue you for age discrimination,” she countered. “I’m going to drive to the closest hospital, and I’ll have my blood tested for alcohol. You’ll see that I’m not drunk.”
She was a woman of her word. She got into the car and drove eight miles to the nearest hospital. When she walked into the emergency room, however, things didn’t go as planned. Instead of giving her the test she requested, the hospital provided two security guards to escort her to her car. They were instructed to remove the “nuisance case” that had arrived in the ER.
In her quest to prove that she was sober, she then drove to the local police station. She walked in and told the officers her problem. They, too, ignored her request for an alcohol test and suggested, “Why don’t you just go home and sleep it off?” Which is exactly what she did.
She never pressed charges against the bar for turning her away, nor was she ever charged with driving under the influence. Twenty-five years have passed since she retired from her government post and her drinking habit. When she first told me this story years ago, it was with disbelief that a hospital or police station, much less both, would have sent her on her way.
Even then, she was thankful that drivers like her are no longer dismissed with a wink and a nod.
— Joan Silverman is a writer in Kennebunk. This article originally ran, in slightly different form, in The American Reporter.
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