You can lead the horse away, but...

| 30 Sep 2011 | 08:00

    How Americans drank anyway during prohibition - a foreign viewpoint, By Lori Strelecki A German visitor to the US wrote about his thought on Prohibition in 1927. “My first experience with the ways of Prohibition came while we were being entertained by friends in New York. It was bitterly cold. My wife and I rode in the rumble seat of the car, while the American and his wife, bundled in furs, sat in the front. Having wrapped my companion in pillows and blankets so thouroughly that only her nose showed, I came across another cushion that seemed to hang uselessly on the side. “Well”, I thought, “this is a fine pillow; since everyone else is warm and cozy, I might as well do something for my own comfort. This certainly does no one any good hanging on the wall.” Sitting on it, I gradually noticed a dampness in the neighborhood, that soon mounted to a veritable flood. The odor of fine brandy told me I had burst my host’s peculiar liquor flask. “In time I learned that everything in America was not what it seemed to be. I discovered, for instance, that a spare tire could be filled with substances other than air, that one must not look too deeply into certain binoculars, and that the Teddy Bears that suddenly acquired tremendous popularity among the ladies very often had hollow metal stomachs. “‘But’, it might be asked, ‘where do all these people get the liquor?’ Very simple. Prohibition had created a new, universally respected, a well-beloved, and very profitable occupation, that of a bootlegger who takes care of the importation of the forbidden liquor. Everyone knows this, even the powers of government. But this profession is beloved because it is essential, and it is respected because its pursuit is clothed with an element of danger and with a sporting risk. Now and then one is caught, that must happen pro-forma, and then he must do time or, if he is wealthy enough, get someone to do time for him. Yet it is undeniable that Prohibition has in some respects been signally successful. The filthy saloons, the gin mills which formerly flourished on every corner and in which the laborer once drank off half his wages, have disappeared. Now, he can instead buy his own car and ride off for a weekend or a few days with his wife and children in the country. But, on the other hand, a great deal of poison and methyl alcohol has taken the place of the good old pure whiskey.” - Felix Von Luckner, visitor to the United States 1927 Lori Strelecki is the director of the Pike County Historical Society’s Columns Museum.