My Mom used to 'enable' Mr. Miller in his smoking...
Melvin Miller, who lived next door to us on Sylvan Road, was a retired 'toy inventor'. And though he was a committed smoker, his wife would not allow that. So he would arrange for my Mom to buy a pack of cigarettes, which she kept on top of the old telephone near the back door. And Mr. Miller would come over with a 'quarter' to buy them, one at a time. Then he would sneak around to the old house that was his workshop and sneakily smoke it.
Ultimately, I got involved in this, I guess...
A day or two after my Dad died in 1980, Mr. Miller collapsed back behind his 1963 Cadillac in the garage. I tried mouth to mouth but he was cold and dead by then. I can't remember if Mrs. Miller had called me over or if I had just found him there, but he was well and truly dead by the time I got to him.
He was a neat man to have next door throughout my childhood - let us wander through his yard, and would give us neat toys that came from his scrapheap of stuff...