Liquor Laws Keep Minors Thirsty; Car Ban Keeps Them In Princeton

Besides his occupation as a Princeton Borough Judge, Paul Cheesebro is head master of the Hunt School, which is near Princeton University. One day about a year and a half ago, several Hunt students showed up drunk after an evening in town. Immediately the Judge began a campaign to end the sale of liquor to minors, and he was very good at it. As a result of police raids which closed one tavern and scared the managers of all the others, it is quite difficult to get a drink in Princeton without at least 21 years of experience.

The tavern keepers and package store men are wary of selling their goods to any but dottards, and if they think a prospective buyer does not measure up to the age on his draft card, they may demand further proof of the card's age and character. Some dealers have even bought the Freshman registers, which contain pictures and birth dates of all students.

As a result of this crack-down, tippling is a major project requiring planning and native cunning. Those with elderly friends or relatives, of course, have no trouble. The rest must soon form connections among the senior class or be without the minimum requirement for home entertainment.

The package stores and taverns in neighboring communities, outside the purview of Judge Chesebro, are not quite so finicky about their clientele's age. But Princeton students are kept from wholesale migrations to the more lenient suppliers of, say, Kingston by a college car ban. Only graduate students, married students and special hardship cases can receive permission to break the rule. So, the Princeton men either stay at home--thirsty--or travel by train to girls' colleges where there is refreshment and company.