A Promise Amidst Shots of Brandy

Founded in 1981 by Robert Anastas, a health educator and coach, SADD (Students Against Driving Drunk) began at Wayland High School in Massachusetts after two students tragically lost their lives in drunk driving incidents. In 1983, our school established a local SADD chapter in Ethan, where I was honored to serve as president. This leadership role allowed me to promote awareness about the risks of drunk driving among my classmates and to encourage a culture centered on safety and accountability. One of our most meaningful projects involved creating a signed pact among friends – a personal commitment to never drive while impaired and to watch out for each other. Far from being merely symbolic, this pledge served as a strong reminder of our collective responsibility and the serious consequences that come with impaired driving. Our mothers supported this commitment wholeheartedly, assuring us that if our designated driver had been drinking, we could call them for a ride without fear of punishment.

At that time, attending dances where Kanaranzi spun the latest music was one of the highlights of my social life and a cherished tradition in our community. These events were more than just gatherings; they were vibrant celebrations filled with energy, laughter, and the pulsating beats of contemporary hits that got everyone on their feet. Friends from all around the area would come together, creating a lively and welcoming atmosphere where we could let loose, sing along, and dance the night away. Kanaranzi’s skillful mixing and keen sense of what the crowd wanted turned each dance into an unforgettable experience, forging lasting memories and strengthening friendships that extended beyond the dance floor. Those nights of music and dancing remain a nostalgic reminder of youthful joy and the simple pleasure of connecting through sound and movement.

In the Midwest during the 80s, there was a prevalent drinking culture, so our gatherings often involved significant alcohol consumption and were characterized by lively and sometimes unruly behavior on warm summer nights. It wasn’t uncommon for us to push the boundaries of freedom, our parties and loud music spilling out into open fields and quiet streets alike. Amidst this spirited backdrop, the Kanaranzi dances stood out as legendary events, known for their energetic, often uncontrollable atmosphere. These dances, rooted in community celebrations, became a space where inhibitions were shed, and the unbridled joy of youth took center stage. The combination of spirited drinking and the pulsating rhythms of the Kanaranzi dances created a unique, unforgettable cultural tapestry—one marked by the reckless drinking that defined my generation coming of age in the Midwest.

Because of the prevalent drinking culture, my friends and I would travel to Dimock to purchase liquor before attending dances in nearby towns. Dimock’s small shop was a notoriously open secret among the local underage crowd. It was common knowledge that if you could see over the counter and had cash in hand, Don would gladly sell you any alcoholic beverage you desired. Personally, I favored Old Mr. Boston’s blackberry brandy – a velvety, richly flavored spirit with the perfect touch of sweetness, ideal for pre-dance cheers and keeping the mood lively. A notable benefit was the ease with which the bottle could be discreetly placed in the back of my jeans, effectively concealed beneath my shirt.

As my mother’s fourth child, she realized I sometimes indulged a little too much in blackberry brandy at dances. Nevertheless, she chose to overlook this because she trusted that I never got behind the wheel after drinking. Confident in my commitment to the SADD pledge to abstain from drinking and driving, she believed I would keep my word. She frequently reminded me that while a drink or two might enhance my relaxation and heighten the pleasure of music and laughter, driving under the influence was never acceptable. Her primary concern was safety – not just mine, but that of everyone on the road. This tacit agreement reflected our mutual respect and taught me that growing up involves balancing enjoyment with responsibility. Looking back, I appreciate her sensible approach and the valuable lesson she imparted about making responsible choices amid excitement and temptation.

One unforgettable night, I found myself dancing with wild abandon at a Kanaranzi party, completely losing track of how much brandy I had consumed. The music pulsed through the air, and with every beat, my inhibitions slipped further away until I was unmistakably over my limit – sloppy drunk, to put it bluntly. To my disbelief, the designated driver we had counted on was equally impaired, leaving our group in a tricky situation. Bound by the SADD pledge we had all signed, our only option was to call JoJo’s mom to give us a ride home. When Mrs. Schmidt arrived, her composed and empathetic demeanor was a much-needed comfort as we awkwardly piled into her car. Upon finally reaching home and stumbling through the door, I expected a long lecture from Mom, but instead, she remained silent offering no scolding, only quiet patience. That wordless response conveyed more than any lecture could, reflecting her trust and care as she gently helped me to bed.

The next morning, I definitely felt the weight of my choices – head pounding and stomach turning. As I trudged down the stairs, I got a nauseating whiff of Mom’s trademark blueberry pancakes. As I rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, she greeted me with a big stack of blueberry pancakes, fluffy and golden, drizzled generously with rich blueberry syrup that mirrored the previous night’s fruity indulgence. The sickeningly sweet aroma filled the kitchen, making my stomach lurch as I fought to maintain composure. Mom simply smirked as I excused myself to use the restroom.

Returning from the bathroom, I took a seat at the table, resolved to show Mom that I could handle a hangover like a pro. Confronting the pile of pancakes, I steeled myself and forced down each bite, gagging at the overly sweet taste while my head throbbed and my stomach churned. It was a struggle; every mouthful seemed to worsen the nausea. As I slowly finished eating, I flicked a snarky smile at my mother despite feeling awful and expressed my gratitude for the "delightful" breakfast.

Although Mom's pancake lesson did little to deter me from overdrinking during my teenage years, the SADD contract proved to be a true lifesaver throughout high school and college. While I failed to heed my mother's warnings and occasional passive-aggressive lessons, the serious commitment I made through the SADD program had instilled in me a lasting sense of responsibility and self-awareness. By signing that contract, I acknowledged the importance of making safer choices, surrounding myself with supportive peers, and understanding the consequences of drunk driving. This support system became my anchor during social events and parties, ultimately helping me navigate the pressures of youth culture and avoid harmful situations.

Eventually, I grew up and made the conscious decision to stop binge drinking and engaging in other dangerous behaviors that once seemed thrilling but ultimately threatened my well-being. It wasn’t an overnight transformation, but a gradual awakening to the value of self-respect, health, and meaningful relationships. As I replaced reckless nights with healthier habits – like exercising, pursuing hobbies, and surrounding myself with supportive friends – I discovered a deeper sense of fulfillment and clarity. My journey serves as a reminder that growth is possible and that breaking free from harmful cycles takes responsibility and commitment. I hope that by sharing my story, others who may be struggling recognize that they too can choose a better path, embracing change not as a limitation, but as a liberating opportunity for a brighter, more balanced future.