Three Drunk Girls: "Say You Won't Let Go"

      It was Graduation night, circa 1964. I was jolted by a memory while watching the marathon finale of America's Got Talent.  A young British singer by the name of James Arthur was performing his chart topping song, "Say You Won't Let Go."
    The song is a romantic ballad type song.  I'd heard it a few times before, and I was struck about how one of the lines seemed so non-romantic. The line being:  "I held your hair back when you were throwing up."
   Romantic or not, an image sprung to  mind, of exactly that.   I know for a fact that nobody ever did that for me, but I have  a clear picture of its being true for someone else.
    On the eve of Hoosic Valley's High School Graduation, or more precisely whenever the graduation parties for that event were held. Ruth and I were still teaching at Hoosic Valley and Dorothy still lived at home.  We were all three young and single.  The three of us went to a graduation house party for Ruth's niece Sharon.  There was plenty to drink, and probably food as well, but we didn't care much about eating back in those days. We liked the party aspect.There were  a number of adults who were willing to serve different drinks to us three young ladies.
      I believe I drove Dorothy and me up to the party on Burton Street, and then drove the three of us down to our second graduation party invitation---two houses down from my own house, to Jane's party.  And that's where the party started.  With all the people there and seemingly every type of alcoholic beverage on the face of the earth,  we were encouraged to partake, and we did. We were  handed drinks we'd never seen or heard of, one after the other, maybe even two at a time.The three of us got drunk.  Beginners as we were, we most likely  didn't know how drunk, but it was evidently apparent to others. A couple of the young men at the party, graduates from a few years before, offered (or took it upon themselves) to walk us home even though Dorothy and I lived a few houses away, and I had parked my car in our driveway.
     I looked back and saw Mike O., gently holding Dorothy's long red hair away from her face while she threw up in the front yard. (Both of them are gone now, so it's not a betrayal of any sort,)  Ruth and I and G.M. (He may or may not be living now) made it to our front porch and G. suggested that he drive Ruth, and me, to her house, which was probably the safest thing to do. After we made sure Ruth got safely home, he asked me if I would like to drive to the Reservoir to get some fresh air and clear my head, but I said no. Instead I went home and sat on our bathroom floor with Dorothy until our heads stopped spinning  enough so we could  climb the stairs to our bedroom.