An Early Memory

I am the youngest of 4 kids.  The oldest brother died as an infant.  Now it is just my sister and brother and I.  Like most people I knew growing up in the 60s and 70s, my parents smoked.  So did their siblings and parents.  I remember once visiting an uncle where most of my dad’s family was also in attendance.  Uncle Harvey had a small place and we all remarked that the smoke was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 

I never really thought much about smoking and never started.  However, I did once try smoking.  My neighbor friend, Marty, came over one day.  He was being secretive about something and I wondered what was up.  When we were alone, he showed me that he had a cigarette that he took from his mom.  He was going to smoke it and wanted me to join him but I had to get my own cigarette.  So I went inside and snuck one from my mom’s pack. 

Then the two of us sat on the back porch and lit up.  I think he also swiped a lighter but I don’t remember for sure.  He took a puff or two and told me to do the same.  I was about 4 or 5 years old at the time but Marty is older than me so I did what he said.  Being so young, what did I know about smoking except for observing my parents and nearly everyone else in the world?  I put the cigarette between my lips and took a big drag. 

Immediately, I started coughing.  My lungs did not want that stuff in there and were telling my body to get it out.  Thinking that I may die soon, I opened the back door to get a drink of water.  For some reason, I thought that would help.  Upon entering the kitchen, I saw my mother.  In my heart, I felt very guilty but the need to stay alive trumped my guilt.  Mom asked what was wrong.  I hadn’t stopped coughing and continued coughing was the only answer I could give. 

She got a glass and poured some water from the faucet and handed it to me.  After a second glass was downed, the coughing subsided.  I believe she asked me what was wrong again but I don’t recall what I said.  I just know I didn’t tell her the truth.  It was several years after I was out of college before I ever came clean about that incident.  Both of my parents laughed after hearing the story.  Nearly 45 years later and I still am not tempted to smoke cigarettes.  That incident is burned into my psyche.