Volume 23 - Issue 1

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Volume 23, Number 1

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Inside: Gambling Reservations A Needling Proposition

September 7, 1990

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TheNewJournal

Volume 23, No. 1

pageS

September 7, 1990

page 22

page 10

ABOUT THIS ISSUE 5 NEWSJOURNAL Digging Yale... Grape Expectations 6 BFnNEEN THE VINES Young Man Blues .

From Eden to East Haven, a romantic looks back at Yale and forward to a career. By Chris Needham

8

FEATURES , High Stake s in a House Divide d How will the tribe survive? In Connecticut, a Native American chief squares off against his son. The issue: gambling. By Motoko Rich 10

Why Don't We Do It in the Bowl Paul McCartney, the Volvo Tennis Tournament, World Cup '94. New Haven officials say, "Just Do It," but Westville residents have their doubts. By Mark Badger 16

The Needle and the Dama g e Done Clean needles for dirty ones. To protect IV drug users from AIDS New Haven health workers distribute sterile works... legally. By Ellen Katz

22

AFTERTHOUGHT And The n I Woke Up After a bad night of bed rest, the writer realizes normalcy and neurosis are just a dream apart. By Josh Plaut

28 \VoiWJM 23, Number 1) 'I'M N ...Jt>~<nool,. Jl"blw-1 aiJt tUDe. durin~ the ecMol year by The New J_,.u at Yale, Inc., Po.t Ofllco 8os :1.432 Yale Station, New Raftn, cr06620 Copyncht 1990 by Tba New Journal at Yale, Inc. All richC. ......-d. Reproducboll either in wbole or 1ft part Without w n u . . n - of the publisher and ednor-in<hidd prolub•ted. nu. mqa&u>e,. publlallecl by Yale Co~ atudenta, and Yale UD.iversi.ty ia DO( reaf*>81Dl• for •C. coot.anc.. Elev• thouaand..,... of ead> .-ue are diatnbutod free to -mbera olthe Yale Uruvemty eommllftlty. 'I'M N..,J,..nool ia printed by Rare Reminder,lnc:. oCRoclo;y Hill, cr. Booll.lr.eepiftc and bil.lina _.,._are pt'OYldecl by Colman Bookk.eeP1D3 oCNew Haven. cr. <>me. ecldnu: 306 Crown Street, Ofllco 312. Phone: (203) 432·1957. Subec:ripdona are a "*liable to thMe ou&aide the Yale COIIllllunity. Ra-: One year, $18. Two yeara, $26. TM Se11 JourtUJJ enco......,...lettera totheecbtorandcommenton Yale and New Haven iaauM. WritatoN_..., R.ch, Editonala, s.32Yale&at:10n, New Ha..-en. cr06620. All lattera for pubiJcaunn muatlftclude adclrue and •IC"•ture. The N- Journal .....-vee the rilbt to edit alllettera for publlcat.ioo.

September 7. 1990

The New Journal

3

PuBusHER Lisa Silverman EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

MotokoRich MANAGING EDITORS

Ellen Katz Josh Plaut

BuSINESS MANAGER Jerry Hwang D ESIGNER

Mark Badger PRODUCTION MANAGER

Masi Denison PHOTOGRAPHY EDITOR

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PHOTOGRAPHY EDITOR

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1990

SUBSCRIPI'ION MANAGER

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New Haven Advocate

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wha lle

Yale Sym.phony Orchestra 25th Anniversary Season introduces Music Director James Ross and invites you to its opening concert of the 1990 - 91 season

Saturday October 13, 1990

Rossini: Overture to "La Gazza I.adra" Brahms: Violin Concerto Carolyn Kalhom, violin Dvorak: Scherw Capriccioso Janacek: Sinfonietta For more information call: 432-4140 4 The New Joumal

. STAFF Arthur Bradford, *Becky Crane, Eric Fisher, Matthew Fleischer, Hank Hsu, Todd Lynch, *Erik Meers, Milena Novy, Kathy Reich, *Mark Ribbing, Roy Tsao •elected September 7, 1990

Members and Directors: Edward B. Bennett ill • Constance Clement • Peter B. Cooper • Andy Court • Brooks Kelley • Fred Strebeigh • Thomas Strong Friends: Anson M. Beard, Jr. • Edward B. Bennett. Jr. • Edward B. Bennett ill • Blaire Bennett • Gerald Bruck • Jonathan M. Clark • Louise F. Cooper • James W. Cooper • Peter B. Cooper • Jerry and Rae Court • David Freeman • Geoffry Fried • Sherwin Goldman • John Hersey • Brooks Kelley • Roger Kirwood • Andrew J. Kuzneski, Jr. • Lewis E. Lehrman • E. Nobles Lowe • Peter Neill • Julie Peters • Fairfax C. Randall • Nicholas X. Rizopoulos • Arleen and Arthur Sager • Dick and Debbie Sears • Richard Shields • Thomas·strong • Elizabeth Tate • Alex and Betsy Torello • Allen and Sarah Wardwell • Peter Yeager • Daniel Yergin

Cover Design by Mark Badger photo courtesy of Yale Sporn Information

· September 7, 1990

MICHAE(S FLOWERS Ltd. Moonfacebear of the Golden Hill Paugussett nation met me in the Daily Caffe. There, he gave me a Connecticut Law Tribune article detailing his efforts to start a casino on his tribe's Colchester reservation. His father, Chief Aurelius Piper, contests this plan.

The next day, I asked ChiefPiper about the Tribune article. Piper asked if this was the article in which Moonfacebear said alcoholism and drug addiction plagued the tribe. It was. Piper asked for a copy and I agreed to give him one.

"Good," said Piper. "Because I'm going to hang him with it."

I stopped short. Now that I knew Chief Piper's intentions, would I be overstepping my role as a reporter by giving him the article? It would no doubt amplify the tension between father and son. I told the Chief I would give him the name of th e newspaper so t h at he could find the article himself.

"Fine t h en," h e said. "Ifyou won't give m e something I need, then I won't give you what you want."

Rationalizing that he would find the article anyway, I gave him a copy. The Chief answered the rest of my qu estions. Still, I felt uncomfortable. I had given Chief Piper the Tribune article so that he would talk to me. I wanted the story.

Did I do something wrong? I asked the TNJ staffmembers what they thought. They responded with their own questions. In writing the cover story about the Yale Bowl, Mark Badger, a Paul McCartney fan, had to overcome his own biases to write a balanced story. How could he fairly present the views ofWestville residents opposed to a rock concert he had wanted to attend? For her piece, Ellen Katz considered talking to an intravenous drug user with AIDS. But could she exploit someone's personal tragedy just to add a human interest angle to her story?

As a magazine focusing on Yale, New Haven and Connecticut, we often write about communities outside our own. Sometimes we wonder if we're reinforcing Yale stereotypes about New Haven. And we often ask, isn't there somethin g slightly sleazy about covering a community that has no direct way to comment on what we write? But if we only covered Yale issues, would we be operating in a vacuum?

The questions outnumber the answers. We work to produce the best magazine we can. We want to inform and amuse our audience, which includes Yale undergraduates, graduate students and faculty.

But as students, we're also here to learn and h ave some fun . At The New Journal , we try to do all of this. We hope you'll join us to write, to design, to take photographs, to sell ads and to hang out. Please come to the TNJ organizational meeting on Wednesday, September 12 in the Silliman Common Room at 8:00 p.m.

••• With this issue, TNJ adopts a new format. After 23 years of typesetting, we have switched over to laser imagesetting. Our designer, Mark Badger, and our production manager, Masi Denison, have put in long hours to re-design the magazine. We are grateful for theircommitmentandtheircreativity.WealsothankTheYaleHerald for the use of their facilities and our former typesetters, Alex and Mary Torello, for their help and patience over the years.

-MR September 7. 1990

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The New Journal 5

Digging Yale Looking for a senior essay project?

Try digging a hole. That's what Lisa Brody (JE '91) did. For seven weeks this s ummer, she turned Old Campus into the first excavation site at Yale. Brody, an archeology major, found an ice skate, oyster shells and a few bottles of spring water imported from Hungary. "I had fantasized about finding jewelry," Brody said. "But I was happy with what we found. " Brody was searching for remains · of "Old Brick Row," the first Yale buildings erected in the 18th century on what is now Old Campus.

The eight brick buildings faced College Street and housed dining halls, libraries, lecture halls and dorm rooms. Brody marked out her site near the edge of Connecticut Hall, the only building that remains from the Row. Brody and a team of classmates began digging in early June. They uncovered the foundation of North Middle College, buried just 50 centimeters below the surface. University officials had leveled the Federal-style dormitory in 1895, making way for the inward-facing buildings that form Old Campus today. Brody's crew dug deeper, scraping out trenches and sifting through dirt to find artifacts. Six feet down, they hit the basement of North Middle College. An accumulation of chipped bricks and mortar forced the crew to abandon their trowels and sifters and break out the shovels.

Debris in the basement included mortar, slate and many bricks. Brody concluded that these remains once 6 The New Joumal

formed the walls and roof of the building. Workmen must have dumped this rubble into the basement when the building was demolished at the turn of the century.

"This was probably a typical building from that era in Yale history," Brody said. She hopes that her analysis of the ice skate and other artifacts will provide clues about

Jennifer Pitts/The New Joumal

Usa Brody (JE '91) will spend the semester examining artifacts like this water bottle.

19th century Yale life.

With this project, Brody took her studies to the field. "It's fun to be outside," Brody said. "It feels good to find something neat that has been buried for decades or even centuries." By digging in such a visible spot, Brody hoped to raise public interest in archeology. "Because people could actually see the dig, they would often stop and ask questions," she said.

Brody began working on the project long before the actual digging began. As a high school student, she had spent a summer excavating a quadrangle at Harvard.

Inspired by that dig, she thought a

similar project could be successful at Yale.

She broached the subject of a dig on Old Campus with University administrators, who responded with something less than enthusiasm.

"We were worried about her digging interfering with the newly laid bordering line and about problems with liability insurance," said Betty ".rrachtenberg, Dean of Student Mfairs. But Brody won over the Administration with her thorough research and preparation. She promised to put up a safety fence around the area, refill the holes before students returned in September, and reseed the gras·s when she completed the dig. "She was very organized," Trachtenberg said. "We were able to get it worked out."

While other seniors scramble for essay topics, Brody will spend the semester compiling her summer's work. She hopes to publish her essay and prepare an exhibit of her findings for Sterling Memorial Library. On Old Campus, the protective fences are now gone and the grass is beginning to sprout back.

The only physical evidence that remains of the dig is stored away in the archeology lab. As Brody looks toward graduate school, she dreams of bigger holes to dig.

-Becky Crane

Grape Expectations By all appearances, Hugh and Susan Connell were living the American dream. Hugh worked as a corporate attorney in a New York firm.

Susan managed a greenhouse and ·

September 7. 1990

raised the couple's three sons. In spite oftheir prosperity, the Connells felt dissatisfied. Burned out and bored by Westchester County commuter life, they wanted to get out.

"We basically felt we wanted a change in our lives," Susan said. They decided to open up a small business far from the pressures of the big city. In 1980, they left New York.

Hugh and Susan, both connoisseurs of fine wines, wanted to own a vineyard. They hoped to produce vintages that could compete with their French favorites from Burgundy and Bordeaux. Their plan: buy a run-down dairy farm in North Stonington, near the port town of Mystic, and transform it into a winery. "Everyone thought we were crazy," Susan said. "But they appreciated that we had the courage to do what we wanted to do." In 1981, the Connells opened Crosswoods winery, named after their former home in New York.

The Connells were determined to produce a quality wine. They wanted to cultivate Vinifera grapes, from which the world's finest wines have been made for centuries. But Vinifera traditionally grows only in warm areas like the Italian Piedmont and Northern California's Napa Valley. Experts believed the harsh climate of the northeastern United States would destroy the fragile grapes. To introduce Vinifera to the region, researchers at Cornell University crossed it with Labrusca, a grape native to New England. This hybrid helped the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York become a major wine-producing area.

The Connells had no interest in cultivating hybrids. They wanted to grow pure Vinifera. D~spite the September 7, 1990

Granger Mooreheod/The New Joumal

warnings of experts, they remained commited to what Hugh likes to call the "noble grape."

Subtle variations in New England's soil and climate, the two most crucial variables in wine production, worked to the Connells' advantage."AJongthecoastofConnecticut, within ten miles of the ocean, the climate is fine for Vinifera," said Hugh. "It's similar to Burgundy and Bordeaux. As you go further west, you move into a colder climate. You have to stick with hybrids there." Moderating winds from the ocean protect coastal grapes from premature budbreak in the spring and postpone the killing frosts of autumn.

Crosswoods is perfectly located to benefit from the sea's favorable air, and the Connells have succeeded in producing some of the imest Vinifera wines in the eastern United States. Since the winery's first vintage in 1984, journals such as the Wine Spectator and Robert Parker's Wine Advocate have given Crosswoods rave reviews.

Elliot Brause, proprietor of Quality Wines in New Haven, says the accolades are richly deserved.

"Of all the New England wineries, Crosswoods is probably in the top three or four overall," he said. "Its

quality is good and its consistency is excellent."

He adds that Crosswoods has a strong reputation among the wine purchasing public. "I think it does as well as any boutique winery in the area," said Brause.

The Connells take pride in their success. Not only have they silenced the naysayers, they have spearheaded a regional trend toward Vinifera. "At the time we began growing Vinifera, people said we were crazy," said Hugh. "But we did it, and we were right. Now everybody's growing Vinifera."

For small "boutique" vintners like the Connells, Vinifera may be the key to economic survival. In the United States, a large number of foreign and domestic producers battle for the affections of an increasingly selective market. Small wineries, which are generally unable to produce as inexpensively as their larger counterparts can, often have to rely on the specific quality of their wine to attract a loyal following. "People are buying high quality wines," said Hugh. "Jug and cheap wine sales are way off. People don't want something that's produced by the zillion gallons and has no character."

-Mark Ribbing The New Joumol 7

c:Between the VineS/Chris Needhaâ&#x20AC;˘ n

Young Man Blues Freshman year. Naples. Thursday night.

"So what do you think you'll do when you get out of Yale?" asks a friend with torrents of blond hair and eyes as beautiful and wise as those of Kurt Vonnegut.

I sip my beer. I look down at the table. I look up into those eyes and swell with love for this person and with love for blurred visions ofiridependence.

"One thing is for bloody sure, " I say. "I will not be sitting behind a desk waiting for the clock to tick over to 5:00p.m. No way."

"What then, if not a desk job?"

I come back with the most emphatic reply I can muster.¡ I feel the emotion of the reply stretch and quiver. "I simply want to live."

Without the atmosphere and the eye contact between two friends, this statement loses a lot. It verges on romantic ridicule. But I meant what I said. At the very least, I wanted a life with little care for money or station but with an emphasis on friendship and learning.

On the outer edges of my ideals, I envisioned European walks that stretched from Bordeaux to Budapest and dreams of Byronic sensuality sweetened by long summer evenings.

Call me an unrealistic fool, but why should such ideas only belong to novels or immaturity?

Junior Year. Art History Lecture.

Back row.

"As we can see here," the professor says, flipping his head back to emphasize the coming statement and pointing up to a slide. "The curve of Picasso's brush stroke is in obvious counterpoint to a psychological framework of painting. The paint is simply released in rejection 8 The New Joumol

of any Freudian self-awareness.

Close, if you will, to an orgasm."

I lean over and whisper in a friend's ear, "What the hell is he talking about?"

"No idea," she replies. "Something about an orgasm."

I fumble back through the pages of my notes. Nothing. For seven weeks I have been coming to this . room. Each time, I ask why I bother.

The professor's gentrified language is unclear, which annoys me. As I study the curves and meanings of art, a guilty voice perks up from the back of my mind: "What does the phallic imagery in a Picasso painting do for you?

Does it really help you understand the world better?" asks the voice. "I hope so, because it certainly won't help you find a job when you graduate." The voice turns cold and digs deep. "Why, Chris, are you so scared

Gronger MooreheOd/The New JoumOI

of the real world?"

Like a drug addict in denial of a problem, I shut the voice down. I remind myself that the study of art history requires the all-important skill of analysis. I'm learing how to think, I tell myself. But the voice comes back. And the question of my future after Yale lingers.

Summer Intership. Corporate office.

First Day. To be a professional writer, you need a desk. In front ofme sits a computer, a thesaurus, a copy of Strunk and White and a coffee mug. "All good journalists drink coffee," says the editor. I sip my coffee, trail my fingers along the computer keyboard 'and look at the clock.

The voice won out. I am padding my resume with recommendations and getting a taste of the magazine business. What does it matter if I don't like coffee; surely, after some furious late night editing, I will get to like the drink. I am becoming a professional.

Writing about golf for a trade magazine may not be the novel that I once dreamed about, but I do have a passion for the game. Ifl've decided not to go gallivanting around Greece as I did last summer, then I might as well do something that interests me.

"Chris, could I see you in my office please?" My boss calls me on the phone. "I have some lists I would like you to research and compile."

Enough of the diary-style inserts, already. They don't fool anyone. The summer drifted along.

My job was not horrible. In some ways I enjoyed it. In addition to asking me to compile lists, the editors and assistants helped me write a few things. I worked for the fashion editor who swished through the corridors, always in a rush from one important project to the next.

Halfway through the summer my boss sensed my diminishing enthusiasm for list compiling. She pulled me aside and gave me a pep talk. This was kind.

"This magazine is a money September 7. 1990

I envisioned European walks that stretched from Bordeaux to Budapest. maker, a winner, a good p lace to be," she said. She ran her fingernail along the thick edge of the magazine, caressing the binding.as one might touch a silk shirt. I asked her if she played golf. "No," she replied. "It's a bit of a silly game." I thanked her for the talk.

The next morning as I sat at my desk, a glimpse of perspective brushed over me. It felt like two tequila shots thrown back one after another. How often do we think about our lives? Where are we going? How many of us know that the bank, the hospital, the newspaper will be our workplaces?

A new voice emerged.

"Is this it? Do I really have the arrogance to expect more out of life than typing in stories about a certain type of golflabel, a story that is little more than an advertisement for the company?"

Unlike my boss, I did not believe in the magazine. Nor did I value its place in society. I do, however, admire the game of golf.

My inner voice, the closest thing to an antenna for one's character, began mumbling, and an echo ofdoubt bubbled around, makingitselfheard.

"Hey, psst, Chris, you old codger," said the genial voice. "What are you up to here? What's the plan?

Is writing at this magazine the way you see your life?"

The answer echoed back, "Er, no. Not really."

September 7, 1990

Ever since I came to America from England five years ago, I have felt a pressure to consume, to nip down to the local Macy's to browse and buy. America is built around consumption. I noticed this pressure, pulling and bending my character around, and I felt damned if I was going to let it shape any part of my life.

In j u st the same manner as the pressure to consume has edged in on my spending habits (remember that scene in Gats by where Redford tosses the shirts around the room?

-that scene could now be filmed in my closet), the experience of Yale University has touched another part of my character.

Yale encouraged me to investigate the interesting topic and to enter those esoteric intellectual domains that few people outside of universities know exist. What have I found? Most of the time, I've been engaged, interested, stimulated. I've been allowed to wander around through the centuries, picking at the juicy parts of thought and history. From the Ming dynasty to a never-ending Faulkner sentence, Yale has given me an environment in which to drift away from presentday concerns. When I tried to figure out the meaning of The Magic Mountain ( in under seven pages no less), I soon forgot what day it was.

I wasn't too sure of the month, either. All bound up in the cocoon of Yale University, I found it very easy to let events on the outside slip by.

Every now and then I might catch a headline, or a quick smirk from Peter Jennings.

One day as I cycled out to the golfcourse, I saw folks struggling to make a living, reminding me that there was life outside of Yale. I

began to wonder what my role in the world would be. At the very time I drifted away from the real world, a part of me demanded to know what preparation I was making to enter life after Yale. This worry became clamorous after classes such as the art history lecture with the sexually preoccupied professor.

My statement at Naples at the beginning of freshman year was still with me, but it was tempered by three years of drifting at Yale. The date of graduation and the payback ofthe$15,000loansdrewevencloser.

Thus, I opted for the internship.

And there I learned that the only true professional is the person who believes in what he or she is doing.

May 26, 1991. Black gown and cap.

(God willing. Anyone can flunk the senior essay, right?)

I've just lost my cap. It landed on the roofof'I'imothy Dwight College when I threw it in the air. "So what do you think you'll do when you get out of Yale?" asks a friend with blond hair and beautiful eyes. He smiles mischievously.

I hug my friend, trying to hold onto a friendship that from now on will never be the same.

Who knows, I think. Nothing is resolved. Nothing is certain. In two years, I might be a shepherd in the Northern Territory of Australia, or a management consultant in Greenwich, Connecticut. Both jobs would be fme if! made a friend like the man I hold onto now. I pull back, look into those eyes, and say, "Didn't I tell you? I'm following you to Law School." ..,.

Chris Needham is a senior in Timothy Dwight College.

The New Journal 9

High Stakes in a House Divided MotokoRich

I I

Aurelius Piper drives his green-Dodge van through the disjointed and out of touch. "My tribe is on the brink wealthiest area of Trumbull, just southwest of New of dying," said Moonfacebear.

Haven. He slows down in front of a log cabin on a He thinks he can revitalize the tribe. A few months quarter-acre plot nestled between the Colonial-style ago, Moonfacebear.hatched a plan to open a gambling houses on Shelton Road. He pulls into the dirt drive- hall on the reservation in Colchester. IfMoonfacebear way as one of his sons is pulling out to go to work. can start a casino, he could raise much-needed funds Piper's wife Marsha, his two youngest children and for the tribe. The Mashantucket Pequots, another visitors from Tennessee emerge from the house to Connecticut tribe, started a bingo hall on their resergreet him. Piper, a spry 74- - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - vation in Ledyard four year s year-old, bounds into the ago. Theynowbringin1,100 cabin to answer a phone call. players a night from as far Inside, photos of Piper and if away as Nova Scotia and his family, landscape paintOhio. The bingo operation ings and headwork decorate earns several million dollars the walls. The head of a bear a year and provides jobs for ismountedoverthefireplace. tribe members.

This cabin, home to Piper Multiple barriers stand and his family, is a reservation for the Golden Hill between Moonfacebear and a game of blackjack. For Paugussetts, one of five Native-American tribes in one, Chief Piper wants to keep his son from opening a Connecticut. Aurelius Piper is the tribal chief. casino on triba l lands. "Gambling is not the cure-all for "Idon'twanttolivelikethewhiteman,"saidPiper, the tribe," said the Chief. "All it brings on is fast also called Chief Big Eagle. "I want to live Indian." women, fast cars, booze, drugs and you name it." Chief Right now, most of the approximately 140 Paugussetts Piper claims th at Moonfacebear has no authority to don't practice a traditional Native-American lifestyle. promote gambling on t h e Colch ester reservation. "My Only Piper and his immediate family live on the reser- sonKennethisnottheChiefoftheGoldenHillPaugussett vation. Other tribe members rarely attend religious nation," said Piper. "He does not speak for the tribe. ceremonies, cultural events or tribal meetings at the He speaks for himself."

Trumbull quarter-acre.

While Moonfacebear maintains that the casino The Golden Hill Paugussetts once occupied over will benefit the tribe, he concedes that he is not getting 200 acres in the Bridgeport-Trumbull area before the a ny support fr om fellow tribe members. His own stepstate whittled it down to the present reservation. br oth er , Aurelius Piper Jr., whom Moonfacebear reAlthough the tribe acquired 107.5 acres in Colch ester cen tly appointed as a council chief in charge of tribal eleven years ago, one of Chief Piper's 18 children , disputes, sides with their father. "I'm opposed to Kenneth Piper-Moonfacebear, is still the only tribe gambling ventures at this time," said Piper Jr. "I've member living there. "Nobody cares about a reserva- never seen anything good come of it." tion in the boondocks," ChiefPiper said. A disintegratMoonfacebear has promoted his gambling scheme ing tribal identity has left the Golden Hill Paugussetts without tribal input. Living alone on the reservation

"Gambling is not a CUre-a// fOr fhe fribe. AJI brfngs On is fast women, fast cars, booze, d d if , rugs an you name .

10 The New Journal

September 7. 1990

in Colchester, he rarely sees other Paugussetts. Chief Piper, on the other hand, talks regularly with the tribe members living in urban centers throughout Fairfield County. According to Moonfacebear, his father manipulates tribal opinion and unjustly wields power over the Golden Hill nation. "I'm feeling like this is a Ferdinand Marcos or Ceaucescu situation," said Moonfacebear. "My father is an authoritarian, totalitarian type of individual." Moonfacebear believes that his father opposes the casino proposal because the Chief is preoccupied with tribal control. "He is one of the reasons the tribe hasn't been able to go anywhere in eight years," Moonfacebear said.

The casino dispute dramatizes the longstanding rift between father and son. Since 1980, Moonfacebear and Chief Piper have vied for power over the tribe.

Moonfacebear argues that his father abdicated his a uthority in two letters that the Chief filed with the Connecticut Department ofEnvironmental Protection.

In 1977, Chief Piper wrote: "You people have assimi-

"My tribe is on the brink of dying. , lated into the main stream of society. I can no longer carry the nation .. .it is time to sever all relations as president of the Golden Hill Development Corporation." Five years later, Chief Piper appointed Moonfacebear as a war chief of the tribe in charge of the Colchester reservation. "The emblem on your shirt, the eagle, with the word 'chief,' stands as I stand," the Chief wrote. Although Piper specifically designated his son as a sub-chief, Moonfacebear claims that Chief Piper handed down all authority to his son. "Whatever power he had, through that emblem, transferred his power to me," said Moonfacebear. "By 1982, I was the September 7. 1990

" I wttl do anything to protect the land," says Moonfacebeor, wor chief of the Golden Hll Paugussett reservation In Colchester, CT.

only legitimate official of the tribe in existence."

Chief Piper says that he only named his son war chiefof the Colchester reservation to get Moonfacebear out of trouble. "He went out there after he got through running drugs for his sister in Bridgeport. He had nowhere to go," said Piper. "At the time, people said maybe by being out in the woods by himself, he'd learn something." Chief Piper claims the real authority remains in his hands. "Moonfacebear doesn't have any power. The Clan Mother is the only one who can take away power," Piper said, defending his leadership.

"I've had the tribe's power-of-attorney since 1973 and nobody has gone to court to revoke it yet."

Yet in a letter to the DEP, Piper granted his son permission to write checks from the Golden Hill Paugussett Tribal Fund. As a result, state officials now recognize Moonfacebear as a legal representative of the tribe. They have discussed the casino almost exclusively with Moonfacebear. Piper resents the state for meddling in what he sees as strictly a family affair.

"Moonfacebear's problem is his own hatred for the family," the Chief said. "In the old way you could banish him from the tribe. But now with your court system and your democratic process and your legal The New Journal 11

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"I'm feeling like this is a Ferdinand Marcos or a Ceaucescu situation. ,

papers-anything is legal that you sign. It's get one Indian to sign and they take the whole thing."

One thing state officials want to keep any Paugussett from signing: a gambling contract. Officials HAVE maintain that Connecticut law proA FANTASTIC hibits the Las Vegas-style casino YEAR! that Moonfacebear wants to introForTwo Fantastic Pizzas duce. Moonfacebear discovered the _ _ ~o~ fan~tic price _ _ state's opposition last month when he announced his intentions to start BUY ONE a gambling hall. If be goes ahead I GET ANOTHER FOR with his plan, he could face arrest.

I HALF PRICE "If someone commits an act that we I Order any size at regular price consider a violation of state statutes on gambling, we would apply : with this coupon and Yale I.D. to a judge for an arrest warrant," 1 Get another (same size or said Chief State Attorney Jack 1 smaller) for 1/2 the regular price. Kelley. For now, Kelley stops short 1 Save50%. of threatening Moonfacebear with Cannoc be combined with other offers. criminal prosecution. "1 do not deal I FAVORITES PIZZA in hypothetical situations," said I across from Vanderbilt Hall Kelley.

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entering into a compact with the state. Under the 1988 Indian Gaming Regulatory Act, tribes and states can negotiate gambling operations that are otherwise prohibited by state law. One problem: the Act only applies to federally recognized tribes-tribes in official relationships with the U.S. Government.

The U.S. Government does not recognize the Golden Hill Paugussetts.

To gain federal recognition and its accompanying welfare services, groups must prove the historical continuity oftheir tribes. For tribes like Golden Hill, such verification is prohibitively expensive. "Ifyou've got to put up $100,000 to dig up everybody's background, I think it's kind of foolish," said Chief Piper.

"They know that we were on reservation land before this country was founded and still are on trust land today. Now you're going to tell me I have to go through all that shit to prove we are a continuity?"

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Chief Aurelius Piper sits In his home on the Golden Hln reservation In TNmbull. "I want to ltve Indian," he says.

Moonfacebearclaims the Golden Hill Paugussetts are already recognized by the federal government, because the tribe gets help from some federal agencies. In 1979, the Department of Housing and Urban Development granted the tribe $69,000 for the purchase of the land in Colchester, and later awarded them $46,500 more. Although the P a ugussetts have received no other rnoney, Moonfacebearsaysthatthe tribe deals with the U.S. Department of Treasury, the Department of Health and Human Services and the Department of Agriculture.

"There's no way that the federal government could say we're not recognized," said Moonfacebear.

Even if Moonfacebear fails to establish federal recognition for the tribe, a state Superior Court case up for argument this fall could be his ace in the hole. Schaghticoke us.

Potter involves a dispute over timber sales on the unrecognized September 7. 1990

Schaghticoke reservation. The case pits tribal sovereignty against state jurisdiction. Last year, a lower court held that the state does not have civil jurisdiction over any NativeAmerican tribe in Connecticut. The state, in appealing the decision, will argue that it does have legal authority on the reservation because the Schaghticoke tribe is not federally recognized. If the Superior Court denies that the state has jurisdiction over the Schaghticokes, Moonfacebear may be in luck. According to Julia Bradley, staff attorney for the Connecticut Indian Law Project, such a ruling would extend gambling privileges to all unrecognized tribes.

For now, Moonfacebear has agreed to postpone development of the casino and investigate other economic options for the Colchester reservation. Manchester representative Jack Thompson, chairman of the Connecticut Indian Affairs Task The New Journal 13

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Force, hopes to help Moonfacebear devise some progra:tns for the tribe.

Thompson suggests that the tribe might use reservation land as a landfill or start a cottage industry.

Tribes in the western United States have raised money through such programs.

Thompson has no specific plans for the Golden Hill Paugussetts for now. "We're really treading water at the moment," said Thompson.

"But Moonfacebear is self-educated and a pretty bright guy, and we hope to work something out." Chief Piper believes he, not his son, should be dealing with Thompson. The state representative thinks that Moonfacebear is the appropriate authority. "As I understand it, Moonfacebear is talking about the

Colcuesrer reservation, which he is in charge of," said Thompson.

As the conflict between father and son heats up, both Chief Piper and Moonfacebear insist that they

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gr&nt the tribe absolute ownership of the Trumbull quarter-acre. In 1981, Moonfacebear refused to give up the Colchester land when the state threatened foreclosure for unpaid taxes. Moonfacebear promised to use force if necessary, and the state recognized the reservation that year. Today, backbiting between father and son overshadows long- term tribal plans. Their personal dispute now shapes the future of the Golden Hill Paugussett nation. A peaceful resolution appears unlikely. "We're at a total war," said Moonfacebear. "The best man Will Win." I&IJ

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Although the weather is mild for a late June evenin& the 62,000 bodies around me make the air feel hot and sticky. The crowd, docile until now, leaJn to its feet. screaming wildly as the Sgt. Pepper'sguitarriffblasts from the stage. I can't see Paul McCartney anymore. My view is completely blocked by a sea of waving arms. 1 climb to the top ofthe bleoch.ersjust to confirm that I'm still in the Yale Bowl.

Actually, I'm j.n my room, listening to my Beatles CD. Paul McCartney never came to New Haven, so I could not have been at the concert. Like the rest of the city, I can only imagine Paul live at the Yale Bowl.

Many residents of Westville-the neighborhood surrounding the Bowl-breathed a sigh of relief when the ex-Beatle pulled out of the gig. A 1980 Eagles concert and the annual football game between Yale and tbe Univei'BityofCenoecticuthave made Westville reaidenta~waryofapecialevents at th&Bowl.

Dr. Kathleen Bober·Sorain8lli, head of the Westville ResidentaAssoc:i.ation, shuddentoremembertjae Eagles fiasco. "People arrived a daY early and camped out: They pitched tena. in Dftiabbon• y~ ·~ ~ fires and barbecues on private property,• the ~ "They dropped their clrawera and defecated· 16 The New Journal

streets." Since then, no rock grQups have com~ to the Yale Bowl When news of tlie proposed McC~rtney concert reached Westville last winter, some residents tialkiJd. They worried that their neighborhood would be tumed into an entertainment district. Two other schemes to use the Yale Bowl intensified their fears. Last inimmer~ the Tennis Foundation of Connecticut_ Inc., indicated that they wanted to J)ljng the IIDB.Ual VOlvo

"They dropped their drawetS and defecated in the streets."

International Tennis Tournament tCJ . _ . Haven.

Foundationmembers figured that,..ale's ~courts­ within walking distance of the Bowl-woaGI .make a perfect new home for the tournament. The other proposal, devised by a joint New Haven and New Y.ork City commisaion, suggested that the two cities make a bid foe World Cup 1994 soccer games.

Weatville'a worries peaked last February whell September 7. ~

concert promoter Jim KopWt. approached Yale University Secretary Sh4dk Wâ&#x20AC;˘Uington to suggest that .McCartlley 8tqe biil'f.Dur finale in the Bowl. Yale and New Haven ofticlala, Marching to remedy the city's $9.2 million cleftci~ ..,. intriped. With this fiscal monke;y eli~ to!:tb8ir backi, many New Haven o.fticialtteawtheconcel'taaawaytohelpflllcitycoffers.

Cit.r 8te04 f.t) net about $325,000 from the event.

PNJ~ Rae, New Haven'e chief administrative offieer,saidthecitywouldearmarkachunkoftheconcert's take for the New Haven Branch Libraries. "The money from the concert would have benefitted the city substantially,,. he said.

New Haven residents living further from the Bowl hailed the McCartney concert as a dream come true.

Not ~ecybody ~bared Westville's fear of mob rule at the Ya1e Bowl. dhamber of Commerce President Matthew Nemerson contested Sorcinelli's portrayal of the 1980 Eagles Concert. "There mi8ht have been a little trashing. I'm sure some lawns got pissed on: he said.

"But I doubt anybody was burned out of his house or eased out of his backyard., The June 15, 1980 isaue of The New Hauen Register reported that the police arrested twelve people at the concert for disorderly September7. 1990

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70,000-seat stadium?" Sorcinelli shoots back: "Most of us are answering, 'We bought a home next to a university athletic facility, not next to the Meadowlands or Foxboro Stadium.'"

On May 25, Sorcinelli got her wish. Alex Kochian, McCartney's agen t, announced that he had dropped New Haven from the tour.

I ' The ex-Beatle, Kochian said, did n ot want to cause strife in the city.

Though some Westville residents felt \'in dicated, other New Haveners expressed disappointment. "I think it was a tragedy," Nemerson said.

"It would h ave been fun-something the whole community would have remembered for a generation."

Although the McCartney proposal died in the planning stage, the Volvo tournament fared better.

The Westville Residents Association did not move to stop the tournament from coming to town. Since the Volvo tournament would not bring in as many people as a rock con cert or the Yale-UConn game, Sorcinelli did not see it as a problem. During the week-long tournament in August, 121,000 fans crowded a temporary stadium in Parking Lot A. Over the next eleven months, Jewel Productions, Ltd., the tournament producer, plans to build a permanent facility in Lot A to house the annual matches.

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Dr. Kathleen Bobef-SorciMII, head of the Westville Residents Association, fears that rock concerts, footbal tollgates and World CUp soccer will ruin her netghborhood.

This summer, the Volvo Tournament ran without a glitch. Few parking or traffic problems disrupted the surrounding neighborhood. "It was almost like a quiet Sunday morning before people have gone to church," said James Westhall, owner of Jewel Productions. Westville Alderman John Einhorn, who opposed the McCartney concert, agrees that the tournament was a success. "It was excellent," he said. "It was possible to plan for problems like parking, traffic, noise and lighting in advance."

Although the tournament ran smoothly, neither Volvo nor the Tennis Foundation of Connecticut turned a profit and won't for about eight years. They must pay back an $18 million bond bill authorized by the state legislature to finance the construction of a tennis stadium.

Meanwhile, the state will take a cut of concession sales. New Haven Will eventually receive a 3% surSeptember 7, 1990

charge on all tickets sold for Volvo Stadium events, but the city won't see much of that money until the tournament recovers some of its overhead expenses. The city hopes to be making money from the event

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Local merchants hoped the Volvo tournament would pull in immediate profits, but were disappointed this year. "We did not see the sales results we had anticipated," said Ann Morrison, marketing and sales director for the Chapel Square Mall.

The week before the tournament, the mall sponsored a contest challenging entrants to guess the number of tennis balls packed into a

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20 The New Joumal

Construction wor1<en managed to stay out of the way when they renovated Yale's tennis courts for the Votvo International Toumoment.

Volvo. Although the contest drew over 7,500 entries, Morrison said that mall raffies won't be enough to make money from the tournament.

"The key is to get people to stay in New Haven. We need more overnight visitors," Morrison said.

Some Westville residents are not pacified by the Volvo tournament's smooth run this summer. The soon-to-be constructed stadium makes them uneasy. Because New Haven stands to make a profit from any event in the new

stadium, residents fear that the city will push to make it a three-season entertainment center. "The Volvo stadium may well be a Trojan horse," Sorcinelli said.

The Volvo Tournament, like the McCartney coi.J.cert, is a done deal.

Volvo happened, McCartney didn't.

As city officials consider co-hosting World Cup 1994 with New York City, Westville residents fear an even bigger disturbance. Last spring, the US soccer team defeated Yugoslavia's Partizan Belgrade team September 7. 1990

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in front of a Bowl crowd of over 30,000 people. While that event passed without a hitch, World Cup games played here could draw up to 70,000 international fans. Westville residents cringe at the prospects of soccer so nearby. "What you're talking about is a 100% residential neighborhood with a commercial intrusion into it," Einhorn said.

This commercialism excites New Haven officials hungry for increased city revenues. "The World Cup will be great," Nemerson said. "It will provide a context for the international traveler to see New Haven."

Still, the Bowl will need major

"l'msuresomelawns got pissed on, but I doubt anybody was burned out of his house orchased out of his backyard. " changes to accomodate the 1994 games. The Bowl needs a facelift: an enlarged press box, modernized locker rooms and lavatories, field modifications and night lighting.

Tennis tournament, a beautified Bowl, who knows what's next?

With the city in real economic trouble, Yale's football stadium looks like a good place to make some money.

StilL Westville residents like Einhorn and Sorcinelli don't want New Raven's newest cash pump in their backyard.

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The Needle and the Damage Done Ellen Katz

I '

"Love as if your life depended on it. Insist on condoms," needles for less than 25 cents a piece, addicts pay five reads a brochure on AIDS prevention. For intravenous dollars for black market needles. Since the onset of the drug users, though, "safe" is not as easy as walking into AIDS epidemic in 1981, the street price ofclean needles a pharmacy and buying a condom. Safe means shoot- and syringes has more than doubled. To save money ing up with a clean needle. Today in Connecticut, it's and decrease the risk of arrest, addicts share or rent impossible to get sterile needles legally without a needles from other users. A single needle gets reused prescription. As a result, IV drug users share needles dozens of times. Since the mid-eighties, drug dealers and spread AIDS. Not surprisingly, the disease has have repackaged used injection equipment and sold killed scores of addicts. these counterfeit "sterile" works to addicts worried This month, the New Haven Department of Health about AIDS. will make life a little safer for New Haven's IV drug Tocounteractthedangersposedbyreusingneedles, u sers. Outreach workers plan to .------------...,..,....------, Sonia Lugo, an outreach worker from canvass city streets, giving addicts the AIDS Division of the New Haclea n needles in exchange for used ven Department of Health, gives ones. For the past few years, AIDS out bleach kits to drug users on city activist s have passed out needles streets. For the past three years, illicitly in New Haven, Boston and Lugo and three other health workoth e r cit ies that prohibit needle ers have taught drug users how to possession without a prescription. clean their needles with bleach. Just New Haven's first official needle north of the Yale campus along exchan ge, authorized by the state Dixwell Avenue, Lugo hands out legislature last spring, will allow fifty bleach kits and dozens of addicts to get needles legally for the condoms everyday. A former addict first t ime. herself, Lugo says drugs users want "Needle exchange is an act of to protect themselves from AIDS. desperation," said State Assembly"We've seen a lot of addicts changman Willia m Dyson. Health offiing their behavior, " she s aid. "Adcials estimate that half of New diets are cleaning their works."

H aven's 5,000 IV drug users are Lugo concedes that bleach is HIV positive. Seventy percent of all not enough. "It's not the same as AIDS victims in the city contracted givingthemcleanneedles,"shesaid. the disease from IV drug use. The "The needle exchange will be more New Haven needle exchange could effective." The program will prohave saved many of their lives. vide clean needles that can be used cOUttesy of The New Haven Register Until now, addicts rarely came AIDS outreach wortcer Sonia Lugo will give immediately and will get dirty across clean needles. While physi- New Haven IV drug users 0 safer way to needles off the street and out of cian s and pharmacists can purchase shoot up. circulation. With each exchange, 22 The New Journal

September 7. 1990

Jennifer Pitts/The New Journal

Lugo hopes to establish a continuing one-on-one relationship with the user. She believes this interaction will be the most valuable part of the needle program.

"With the needle exchange we'll be able to reach more people," said Lugo. "Now, when I pass a shooting gallery, I leave fifteen bleach kits with t he person outside." Even if the bleach reaches the addicts in the building, the information about safe sex and treatment stays outside. "We'll give the needles to the individuals themselves," she said.

New Haven Mayor John Daniels endorses the needle exchange. Last spring, he lobbied for the program before the state legislature. Daniels argued that current prevention programs were not stopping the spread of AIDS. He hopes clean needles will do the job. "We're reaching out to people who have a diseasedrug addiction-that opens them to another disease that will kill them," said Alma Ayala, a spokesperson from the mayor's office. "We are trying to save lives.

Needles are essential."

Needle programs abroad have protected drug users from AIDS. In 1985, the Netherlands launched a needle exchange to protect addicts from hepatitis B, another disease that spreads by needle sharing. In Amsterdam, where health officials annually distribute 700,000 needles to addicts, the incidence of hepatitis B has dropped 75 percent while th e number of AIDS-infected drug users has stabilized over the past two years. Similar programs in Canada, Great Britain, France, Switzerland and Australia have blunted AIDS transmission among the IV drug-using population.

Today in the United States, municipal health departments trade needles in Tacoma, Seattle and Boulder. Private agencies make exchanges in Portland, Oregon and San Francisco. But political opposition to needle programs blocked exchanges in Los Angeles, September 7, 1990

Chicago and Boston. At the federal level, President George Bush (DC '48) opposes free needle distribution.

Last year, Congress refused to fund needles or bleach kits for addicts.

Eight months ago, New York City Mayor David Dinkins scrapped the nation's first government-sponsored needle exchange. In a city where health officials estimate that half of the 200,000 IV drug users now carry the AIDS virus, only 300 addicts participated in the program. Dinkins told The New York Times on February 14, "I don't want to give people the paraphernalia to continue using drugs." City Councilman Hilton B. Clark called the needle exchange genocidal, explaining that it promoted drug use among AfricanAmerican and Latino people, who make up the majority of IV drug users in New York.

Connecticut Assemblyman Dyson thinks that needle

"If I'm doing nothing about the

spread ofAIDS and I know howit spreads, then that's genocide. , programs prevent the destruction of communities. "If I'm doing nothing about the spread ofAIDS and I know how it spreads, then that's genocide," he said. While Dyson admits that passing out needles may appear to condone drug use, he argues that saving lives is a more pressing concern. "Since current prevention programs aren't working, common sense tells us we ought to look at something else," he said.

Some of Dyson's colleagues think that needle exchanges will only make matters worse. State Assemblyman Eugene Migliaro thinks a government-sponsored needle program will not only support current habits The New Journal 23

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but will encourage new drug users.

"The needle exchange is giving drug ' pushers a sales pitch," he said. "Kids are now wary of IV drug use because they're afraid of AIDS. The

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"The needle exchange is g iving drug pushers a sales pitch., needleprogrameliminatesthatfear."

Lugo argues that needle distribution won't create new IV drug users. She says that people don't start using drugs just because someone gives them a needle. "Drug users start by sniffing or smoking," sh e said. "They don't start shooting up right away." She claims that addicts progress from joints to needles in search of a greater high.

Last spring, Lugo told the state legislature that needle distribution would save lives. Dyson steered the n eedle exchange bill through the House Committee on Appropriations, which h e co-chairs. "The fact that I felt strongly about the program helped it pass," he said. Two-thirds of th e General Assembly voted for a city-sponsored needle exchange.

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AIDS prevention program. With lators ruled that the law prohibitmore AIDS cases than any other ing needle distribution would not city in the state, New Haven fit the apply to the New Haven exchange hill. Lawmakers set aside $25,000 · program.

Assemblyman Migliaro thought for the program and New Haven will match that figure. the legislature should have backed Still, legislators rejected a more away from the needle exchange comprehensive needle proposal. "We program as well. "Needle exchange were looking for the decriminaliza- didn't work in New York," said tion ofneedle possession," said Elaine Migliaro. "It won't work here eiO'Keefe, director of the AIDS Divi- ther." O'Keefe says that New Haven's sion of the New Haven Department program will be different from the of Health. With the passage of such one in New York. There, drug users legislation, anyone could have pur- had to exchange their needles at chased needles and syringes with- the health department headquarout a prescription, as is the practice ters in lower Manhattan. In New in 39 other states. "Once the pro- Haven, outreach workers will take posal for decriminalization became . the needles to the neighborhoods widely known, people backed away where addicts shoot up. "We'll travel from it," Dyson said. Instea.d, legis- the same streets we visit now," Lugo September 7. 1990

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said. She claims going out to the streets will be more effective than distributing needles from a flXed location. "Anaddictwantstogethis high. Heishurting,"shesaid. "He's not going to wait an hour for a •· needle."

NewHavenhealthofficialsdon't plan to just drop off the needles and run. The health department will label clean needles so that it can monitor return rates. Outreach workers will continue to distribute bleach kits, condoms and educationa! materials. When a drug user exchangesaneedle, outreachwork-

ers will attempt t o enlist the addict in a long-term relationship. The city hopes these liasons will lead to treatment. "Our aim is not to impose treatment on a person who is not ready," O'Keefe said. "But we will help people walk through the steps for treatment."

Nevertheless, long waiting lists attreatmentcentersblockeventhose who seek immediate help. In Connecticut, there are 5000 treatment spots open for an estimated 35,000 addicts statewide. "Obviously, not everyone can get into a spot right away," s aid Daniels' spokesperson

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26 The New Journal

September 7. 1990

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Ayala. "But we're trying to get as many in as possible. " She anticipates that the needle exchange will show that the demand for treatment is high. "We're hoping this will get funds opened up."

AIDS activists continue to demand that government agencies expand treatment facilities. Yale Professor Alvin Novick, chairman of the Mayor's Task Force on AIDS, stresses that drug treatment is an essential component of any effective AIDS prevention program.

"Needle exchange is a public health band-aid to k eep people alive until we can help them more, " he said.

For now, Lugo and her co-workers are stocking a health department van with clean needles. They expect many addicts will meet them when they hit the streets later this month. "People h ave been calling us for weeks now, " Lugo said.

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Ellen Katz, a senior in Timothy Dwight College, is Managing Editor o{TNJ. Septe mber 7. 1990

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The New Joumal 27

Aftealltought/Josh Plaut

And Then I Woke Up I had a nightmare last night. In the dream, I was sitting with my dad and my two older brothers watching a Yankees game on TV. Yanks pitcher Andy Hawkins stood on the mound, clutching a bushel of Texas ruby grapefruits. It was daytime, but the stadium lights were on. The place was deserted. Detroit slugger Cecil Fielder emerged from the shadows behind home plate, carrying an aluminum bat as wide as a fire extinguisher and as long as a pushbroom. My dad jumped to his feet. "That's not a Louisville slugger. He can't use it. It's made of tin."

"Steel," my oldest brother muttered, pulling him back into the couch.

"Aluminum," I corrected. "That bat's made from aluminum."

Fielder took a few practice cuts before stepping into the box. Each time he swung the enormous bat, waves of discarded hot dog wrappers and CrackerJack boxes gusted across the screen. Phil Rizzuto was doing the play-by-play, but herefused to talk about baseball. As Fielder stepped into the box, Rizzuto described the Chicken Fran~ais at Mama Leone's. "The finest sauce in the tri-state area." Fielder set his feet, took a couple imal cuts and fixed his eyes on the pitching mound.

Hawkins set the basket on the infield grass behind him, selected a nice mushy fruit, and returned to the mound. He spat, took a deep breath, and started his wind-up.

Hawkins reared back, kicked and flung an enormous, looping lob.

Fielder grinned fiendishly, waiting for the helpless citrus to reach the 28 The New Joumal

plate. As the fruit floated towards "She's. . . uh, where the hell is him, my brothers fell out of their she?" my father asked, alarmed. seatsandrolledaroundonthecarpet.

"I thought she was upstairs," "The lob," they howled. my oldest brother said.

"Back in your seats," my father They walked around downstairs commanded. They climbed back calling her name, looking behind onto the couch. cans in the kitchen cabinets and The fruit was still in flight. ' ' under the dining room table. I ran Fielder licked his lips greedily. Fi- upstairs. I rushed into her room, hoping to find her reading the newspaper or talking on the phone.

No luck. I looked in my room. Perhaps she's rearranging the bookshelves or folding sweaters. Not there.

"Have you found her?" my father yelled from downstairs. I stood still, stopping to listen. I heard his voicedeep and always a little too loud. I heard cars passing outside, the pendulum clock ticking in the front hall, the air conditioner pumping air into my bedroom. I heard water nally, the grapefruit reached the pouring into an overflowing ¡tub. plate. Fielder stepped into the pitch, Water. I rushed through the little letting his mighty bat unwind. The hall towards the bathroom. The massive cylinder wooshed through door was half open. Steam poured the air, speeding towards the fruit. into the passageway. Why did it At last, he made contact. Splat. take me this long to notice?

Inside the tile-covered bathroom, The grapefruit disintegrated with the force of the swing. Pulp and my mother had sunk to the bottom seeds filled the air, coating camera of the bath tub. She was blue. The lenses. Hawkins, knocked over by water was perfectly clear. I reached the force of the blast, lay sprawled under her arms to pull her body out on the mound. A layer of grapefruit of the tub. She was still breathing. gunk coated his face. My brothers Pulling her up was easy enough, held their heads in dismay. My but soon she started thrashing father bit his nails. around, fighting to get back under "He shouldn't have thrown the water. lob," my oldest brother said.

I woke up.

I told my brother Jeff about the "Not to Fielder," my other brother said. dream, but he didn't say much. I At this point, the dream took a thought of maybe telling my father, turnfortheworse. "Where'sMom?" but it's not the kind of stuff that he I asked. likes to hear. He doesn't hold much

It must mean something bad. Anything so vMd , so emotionally intense, so grotesque, can 'tbe

good.

September 7. 1990

stock in dreams. "Dreams are the mind's way ofgetting rid ofgarbage," he once told me. "No reason to go digging through the garbage."

I don't like dreams much. They have this way of making me feel abnormal. I go to bed tranquil, collected, well-adjusted. I have a weird dream and the next morning I wake up wondering if I'm a lunatic. Just when I think I've emerged from late-adolescence unscathed, I have this dream chock full of psychosexual imagery..

I feel like I've been teleported back to those junior high school nights when I'd dream that I forgot to put pants on. There I was, standing on the lunch line, reaching for a plate of ziti when I realized that I was totally naked from the waist down. No rust-colored Levis' corduroys, no Fruit of the Loom briefs.

Just me standing buck naked in the junior high school cafeteria. When I woke up, I would tell myself that I

Oedipal anxiety. All of a sudden, Josh Plaut, Yale College senior, has been kidnapped by Josh P.-<!ase study in Freudian psychopathology.

What's more, the dream really scared me. I woke up sure that I had let my motherdie. Itmustmeansomething bad. Anything so vivid, so emotionally intense, so grotesque, can't be good.

The dream has too much unnerving sex stuff for my taste. Cecil Fielder swung an enormous phallic symbol. Andy Hawkins hurledjuicy, seed-laden fruit. I searched the family bedrooms for my mother. I rushed into a steamy bathroom to find her submerged in a bathtub. These aren't healthy things for me to be dreaming. I'm anxious about the whole thing, but also a little bit annoyed. Why me? I've already read Portnoy's Complaint. I don't need to dream it.

What's more, the dream made me anxious I might harbor deep-

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hadn't been exposed. I'd sit on the side of my bed, reworking the dream so that I was covered with a loin cloth, a jock strap, a fig leaf. In truth, I knew I was exposed, but it made me feel better to pretend.

I shouldn't be having weird dreams anymore. Out of nowhere, my mother enters my dreamscape from stage left. It's eight years later, and I've traded adolescent sexual self-awareness for creepy September 7. 1990

seated, repressed feelings about my family. During waking hours, my brothers are my two closest friends.

Why should they get portrayed as dip-shits when I'm asleep? I guess I harbor a lot of hostility towards them that I didn't even know about.

My dad is a little preoccupied with control, but he's not the tyrant my dream makes him out to be. Maybe I don't love him anymore. I thought I had a pretty healthy relationship

There I was, standing on the lunch line, when I realized that I was totally naked from the waist down. with my mom, but in my dream I let her die naked. Am I losing my marbles? I'd like to think not, but the evidence to the contrary seems pretty convincing.

I should sit down and figure this dream out. I might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown without even knowing it. Maybe I can save myself before it's too late. But I don't want to do the digging. Too time consuming, too disconcerting.

So here's my plan. I'm turning the burden of analysis over to you. Use your particular skills to tell me what's going on.

For the biology-minded, describe the brain behavior responsible for dreaming. Tell me about Erikson's stages of social development. Tell me about neuro-chemicals and synaptic transmission. Draw a diagram of my hippocampus. I'm even willing to take part in experiments exploring family dynamics. Whatever it takes.

Maybe you have a sociological background. You can tell me a bit about socialization. Talk to me about group dynamics. Tell me how the mores of American Jewish culture have affected my relationship with my mother. Explain how the dyThe New Journal 29

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namic between parent and child can be influenced by a whole range of factors. Describe how my father's task-oriented outlook influences my perceptions of the family unit. Define sanctions and delineate the parameters of social control within a family. How are boundaries established? How are they enforced?

And for the literary-minded, how ' • about some close reading. Your job is to construct a problematic, but attainable, coherence. Make some sense out of my dreamscape. What difference does the author-or dreamer-make? Show me the archetypal myth structures to which my dream corresponds. Discuss how

Pulp and seeds filled the air, coating camera lenses.

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the dream laments the difficulties of signification. Do what you can.

When you finish with your analysis, type up a summary ofyour findings. Print the document out, place a folded copy in a business envelope and shove it in the back of your sock drawer. It's quite possible I'm nuts, but I don't think I am. I hope you don't either. If you do, I'd rather not hear about it. Let me labor under the delusion that I'm totally normal. If need be, condemn me for having a false-consciousness. I can live with that.

After all, it was only a dream. Ill)

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Josh Plaut, a senior in Timothy Dwight College, is Managing Editor of TNJ.

September 7, 1990

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