Prohibition Begins in Missouri

   In my book Wicked Joplin, I wrote about how the last day before Prohibition was celebrated in Joplin, and I got to wondering how other Missouri localities observed the day. Although the period we know today as Prohibition did not begin until January 1920, the temporary Wartime Prohibition Act banned the sale of beverages containing more than 2.75 percent alcohol as of July 1, 1919. So, for all practical purposes, June 30, 1919, marked the last day that people could legally purchase booze.
   Known as a hell-raising town from its earliest days as a boisterous mining camp, "wet" Joplin was a frenzy of activity in the days leading up to the prohibition deadline. People from miles around who lived in “dry” territories trekked to Joplin to stock up on John Barleycorn, and record sales were reported. (The initial provisions of the prohibition act outlawed the sale but not the possession of alcoholic drinks.) On the eve of the law’s taking effect, Joplinites marked the occasion with wild revelry. All the saloons were jammed throughout the evening, as were all the cafes that served alcohol. “No New Year’s party in the history of Joplin...could be compared with it,” said the Joplin Globe the next day. “When midnight approached the merrymakers were well along toward that state where every one is a ‘jolly good fellow.’” When the fateful hour arrived, women jumped onto tables and starting singing “How Dry I Am” and similar ditties, while out in the streets “the revelry was nearly as bad. Men and boys paraded Main street shouting and yelling,” and both men and women in automobiles drove up and down the street screaming and shouting out the open windows. The Joplin police, reported the Globe on July 1, arrested seventy-eight people for drunkenness, even though they limited their arrests to those “who had become so intoxicated they will not realize until late today they were guests of the city....”
   Other towns and cities throughout Missouri marked the occasion with revelry as well, although their celebrations were more subdued in most cases.
   In Kansas City, "Last-chance parties abounded in hotels and cabarets," according to the July 1 Kansas City Times, "and the saloons did (a) heavy business." The celebration centered on Twelfth Street, where the merrymakers "made a noisy demonstration to the close." It was a "joyous and happy crowd," some woozy with liquor, but "not offensive." Some of the revelers were strangers to John Barleycorn but "made his acquaintance last night." One such newcomer to liquor was a woman who sat in an automobile outside the Hotel Muehlebach looking somewhat disheveled. "What do you think my Sunday school class would think of me now?" she asked as a reporter passed by.
   In St. Joseph, "The celebrators, or mourners, as the city's News-Press called them the next morning, "did everything they could to get rid of the liquor last night." Since the new law would still allow for light or "kickless" beer and wine, it was mostly "whiskey straight" that the St. Joseph partiers imbibed.
   For the most part, St. Louis, according to the July 1 Post-Dispatch, "permitted liquor to pass out last night with indifference. The expectation that the 'last night' would have aspects of drunkenness and revelry not uncommon to New Year's Eve was not realized." A fairly large number of people did take to the streets in the early evening, but when the crowds "realized that nothing to stir their risibility was going to happen, they dispersed to their homes." The St. Louis Star & Times largely agreed, noting that there were some large crowds throughout the city but that the celebration was "by no means of the New Year variety." Most of the celebrating occurred at "family parties, and revelry was the exception."
   In Springfield, "The ringing of church bells and the celebration at downtown cafes marked the passing of John Barleycorn and his stepbrothers," according to the Springfield Missouri Republican. Although some of the downtown cafes and saloons had more business than usual, there were no real parties like those normally held on New Year's Eve. When the clocks reached midnight, some of the churches in town, happy to see the death of John Barleycorn, rang their bells in dirge-like peals usually reserved for funerals.
   Many of the "thirst-parlors" in Joplin and elsewhere throughout the state closed after Wartime Prohibition took effect, even though the law initially allowed the sale of drinks with a small amount of alcohol. The saloonkeepers said that, with whiskey barred, they could not make enough money to pay expenses.