Days of Prohibition

Vocabulary terms spring up around some activities. For example the term “bite the bullet” originated in the days before anesthesia when a wounded soldier was told to bite the bullet placed in his teeth to stand the pain of the surgeon’s knife. “Cash on the barrelhead” came from those days of sparse furnishings in frontier barrooms when they upended barrels to use for tables and drinks were paid for with cash on the barrelhead.

Because North Dakota banned  sales of liquor, a simple solution gave birth to another expression. Thirsty men could board the N. P. train at Sheldon, ride to Fargo, and catch a ride  in the waiting shuttle wagons. Their destination was wide-open Moorhead where they could drink freely in one of   many saloons. Occasionally, a drunk, on the return trip sometimes “fell off the wagon.” Of course, today we might say that when someone starts drinking alcohol again after refraining for a period.

The prohibition clause in our state constitution had caused North Dakota’s saloons to lock their doors on July 1, 1890. Creative scrambling started taking place to supply drinkers with product. Druggists were allowed to dispense alcoholic tonics for health reasons; one commentator observed this made for a very healthy population. Moorhead entrepreneurs shipped beer into the state by stashing beer bottles into sugar barrels. And there was always the home-brewed variety.

Dramatic action like prohibition required some strong leadership to attain. One of those leaders was a lady named Elizabeth Preston Anderson. She was asked what caused her to be so passionate about it. While employed as a teacher in Page, North Dakota she lived in a hotel room. One morning  she looked out the alley facing window and saw a young man sprawled out in the garbage with flies crawling on his face and into his open mouth. She reacted by deciding then and there to fight against liquor’s availability. She said, “I looked at my boys in the school room that morning, bright, eager youngsters, and wondered who among them would be victims of this licensed and protected monster.”

She joined the Women’s Christian Temperance Union and served as president for 40 years. Not afraid to travel around the state the crusader announced that the annual state convention would be held in Lisbon on September 13-17, 1901.

A dozen or so years earlier her hand could be found in drafting the state constitution in 1889. She wanted prohibition included in it, but other committee members were a bit leary thinking that item could cause the whole document to be defeated by voters. So a separate prohibition clause accompanied the constitution. It barely passed with 1,159 votes while the constitution’s approval itself fared well, 27,441 to 8,107.

 

The numbers somewhat reflect an east-west split with the Scandinavians in the east  opposing liquor sales and the Germans living farther west liking their spirits. They brought their heritage of celebrating with alcohol to this new country.

In my humble opinion, this is where it gets interesting. In 1909 a new state attorney general, Andrew Miller, took office and set out to make a name for himself. Possibly influenced by the WCTU, he had declared he would clean up “bad spots,” which meant he would move in a short time against the sheriffs of counties where violations of the law were most flagrant.

The state’s attorney and the sheriff of Grant County drove to Carson one day in 1909 to check out the rumor of illegal liquor sales in the barbershop. Upon inspection, they decided everything looked innocent enough. But wait, is that a trapdoor the barber is standing on? They lifted it and found a cellar concealing more than a thousand bottles of whiskey. The bottles were emptied on the prairie, and the sheriff promised more raids would follow.

My dad told a  story of prohibition days that featured his grandpa, my Great-grandpa Sam Menge. I have no date, but given the context I believe it was  during A. G. Andrew Miller’s term in office, 1909-1914. One day the sheriff called saying he was coming to his farm to check on rumors of a still. Let’s pause and think about it. The sheriff was more than likely one of those pressured by Miller to clean up “bad spots.” Therefore he would have to comply, but people like Sam Menge were constituents of the sheriff and had probably voted for him. Caught between  the law and a friend, he fulfilled his obligation with a warning ahead of his visit.

Yes, Sam had a still! This German from Russia immigrant intended to make his own liquor when he couldn’t buy it. Given the sheriff’s warning, he simply dismantled the still and looked at the cupola on top of the barn. That’s where he stashed it, piece by piece. The sheriff did call on him and conduct a superficial inspection. He probably stayed to visit awhile, maybe even have a cup of coffee, and then went on his way. I never heard how long Sam waited before bringing the apparatus down to reassemble it. Many details of the incident have disappeared into the mist of the past. It illustrates one of the difficulties of enforcing prohibition.

The federal government on January 19, 1919 decided everyone should stop using alcohol with the 18th Amendment to the constitution. The period of Bonnie and Clyde, Al Capone, and other lawbreakers arose and operated until the repeal of the 18th Amendment by the 21st Amendment in December of 1933. The prohibition clause in North Dakota’s constitution of 1889 was tossed out with its repeal on November 8, 1932.