Father was a history buff, as would be predicted from having a father who was a history professor. At one of his dinners, his interest in history and coins enabled him to do something that actually changed history. But alas, almost no one knows about it.

Ah, but in mere moments, you Dear Reader, will know about it. At one of the dinner parties at 8 Louisburg Square he entertained the British ambassador, Baron Caccia of Abernant. At the end of the dinner, instead of serving coffee, as would have been usual, Father served tea.

But the tea was no ordinary tea. Father had once done a favor for a doctor, who in return gave him a small, blue, antique porcelain jar that contained 200-year old tea taken from the Boston Tea Party.

The men who started the American Revolution by dumping tea into the Boston Harbor were also frugal New England Yankees, and although they did dump a bale or two of tea into the harbor, most of the tea ended up in New England kitchens, heartily enjoyed.

But not all of it. Some of the revolutionaries/thieves, recognizing that the tea had historic significance, handed it down to their children, who handed it down to their children and so on until about a quarter of a cup’s worth reached my father.

For the occasion of the dinner honoring Ambassador Caccia, my father served tea with a leaf or two of the original Boston Tea Party tea mixed in with regular orange pekoe. However, as he announced to the British ambassador, he didn’t want to embarrass the ambassador by offering him tea for which the duty hadn’t been paid.

I heard my father go on to explain that he had looked up the amount of the tax, and it was actually a small amount. Father had gone to a coin dealer (he collected coins so this was an easy thing for him to do), and bought antique coins that would actually cover the taxes that America owed on the tea that had been dumped.

Father produced an antique-looking leather purse and with a flourish, handed the purse with its coins to the ambassador.

I watched as the ambassador opened the strings of the purse, poured the coins into his palm, and then counted them. “I accept these on behalf of my government and Her Majesty, the Queen,” Baron Caccia intoned in an official-sounding voice, but then added in a graver, and still more official-sounding voice, “However, the interest on the indebtedness means that these coins do not cover the amount owed.”

He paused for drama, and then:

"In my role as ambassador, I am allowed to represent Her Majesty the Queen's government in overseas matters relating to taxes and duties. In that role, I forgive all interest accrued on this debt and pronounce the taxes now paid in full.”

And thus history was made.

I bet it was an evening that everyone present remembered a long time. What a gift for showmanship Father had!

I keep thinking how pleased I am that I came across your website. My siblings have all written to say how pleased they are that we’re all remembering such an important part of our father’s life.