Dear Ann Landers: I wrote a letter to my son, a 17-year-old high school senior, after I came home a day early from an out-of-town trip and found him drinking beer for breakfast. I wrote the letter because talking to him had become an ordeal and got me nowhere. He does not deny that he drinks, but he won't admit he has a problem with it. I should mention that his father, his paternal grandmother and both his uncles are alcoholics.
Thanks for nothing
(From Ann Landers letters)
I discovered that writing the letter helped me express myself better, so now I am writing to you, Ann. The reason is not because of my son's obvious drinking problem; it is because I want to say something to a couple of other people in my son's life — people who have had a profound effect on my family.
Here is my message to those who were more interested in making a sale than in saving a youngster from the perils of alcohol — to the deli owner who had no problem selling my son a six-pack of beer, to the supermarket checkout person who allowed him to walk out with a few wine coolers, to the bartenders who served my son, knowing he was nowhere near the legal drinking age of 21, and last, but not least, to the irresponsible parents who allow keg parties in their homes and say, "It is better to know where they are when they are drinking":
I hold none of you responsible for the alcoholic gene that has been passed on to my son, but I do hold you responsible for allowing him easy access to the poison that could ruin the better part of his life.
Thanks for nothing. — Long Island Mother
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