By Mary Dahl
Since the rough early days of Prescott when the population was mainly miners and cowboys, whiskey has been a standard characteristic of the city. It's difficult to talk about nearly any event in the city's history without mention of liquor.
To be sure, saloons represented a substantial part of the local economy. There was the Kentucky Bar, Cobweb Hall, the Del Monte, St. Michael's, the Palace and the Wellington downtown, a wholesale house owned by Herman Voge above St. Michael's, Jake Marks and Sazarac wholesale houses on Gurley Street, the Corner Grotto, Coy Carey's Blue Front, Fred Eckert's and the Depot House on Cortez and the Half Way House on north Mt. Vernon Street. Each had its regulars: cowboys, miners, soldiers or businessmen, depending on their location. Games such as faro, poker, monte and roulette were played. Saloons sold a glass of whiskey for 15 cents or two for a quarter. If you paid a quarter but only had one drink, you got either a dime back or a chit for 12 1/2 cents good toward your next visit.
Arizona's first stab at limiting liquor sales was a law passed by the 13th Legislature (1885-86) prohibiting the sale of liquor on election day and forbidding boys under the age of six entrance to a saloon. In 1901, a "local option" law was passed permitting individual communities to decide how they wanted to deal with liquor and saloons. It was repealed in 1909.
So, what happened in Prescott when the state, then the country went dry? Considering that the state's earliest settlers - miners, cattlemen, and women of the night - were not shy about consuming alcohol, it's amazing that the state voted to prohibit the sale and manufacture of liquor years before the rest of the country did.
New Year's Eve 1914 was the last public drinking in the state as voter-approved Prohibition went into effect Jan. 1, 1915 (National Prohibition didn't begin until 1919). Lucille Cummings, a Prescott pioneer, recalled standing on a corner in downtown Prescott watching a woman with a white ribbon on her bosom smashing her husband's secret hoard of whiskey as Prohibition went into effect! Members of the Women's Christian Temperance Union (WCTU), who sought to make any form of alcohol illegal, wore the ribbon as a badge of honor. Their opponents referred to them as "the white-ribbon scourge."
Saloon owners, of course, felt their livelihoods ripped from their hands and they made sure their feelings were known. Posted on the doors of many saloons was the sign, "Closed. Our business and our right to earn a living have been destroyed by a crowd of imported agitators." The "imported agitators" were women of the WCTU who came to Arizona to end the lawlessness they blamed on "demon rum." They were not alone in their thoughts, for Gov. Anson Safford had said in 1875, "nine-tenths of all crime could be charged to ardent spirits."
As Prohibition went into effect, the Journal Miner lamented, "It's a rejoicing and also a funeral." The paper took the view that "Prescott will have the appearance of the proverbial deserted village."
Gail Gardner recalled the Yavapai Club gearing up for the long, dry spell by purchasing five-gallon containers of wine. "It was amazing how many friends we had when that wine came in," he said. "We thought (Prohibition) would only last a month or two."
As written, Arizona's original Prohibition law did not forbid having alcohol in your possession and it was ruled that alcohol was legal for personal use. It was only illegal to manufacture or sell it. The railroads continued to ship alcohol and consumption continued.
But what happened on Whiskey Row? Little is said in memoirs and newspapers about anything changing there. Perhaps that is because little changed.
The saloons were converted into ice cream parlors, but liquor was readily available in back rooms and basements. Little wonder that Prescottonians ignored the law. The 1920 Census shows the population of Yavapai County at 5,092 and there were 60 saloons. Compare that to Maricopa County's 37 saloons serving a population of 11,134.
It's said that Sheriff Ruffner was in a quandary about whether to enforce the law. These were his friends, after all, not a bunch of rowdies. He finally decided that, before he went out in search of illegal stills, he would drive around the courthouse twice, giving everyone plenty of lead time to get home and hide the evidence.
Probably because of the virtually nonexistent roads from Phoenix to Prescott at the time, there are few reports of federal agents looking for moonshiners in Yavapai County. On one occasion, 50 people were arrested in the Verde Valley for violating the law. The newspaper carries many stories of arrests in Globe, Clifton, Tucson and Bisbee - everywhere but Prescott.
Two reports stand out: On Oct. 13, 1923, federal agents (called "revenuers" because they worked for the Internal Revenue Service) announced they were going to shut down 20 buildings in Prescott because they housed stills or saloons. The owners, among them Mrs. George Ruffner and Mrs. Morris Goldwater, declared they had no knowledge of such activities, and there's no report of any further action against the property owners. The second story probably says more about the town's love of its thirst emporiums as any other: In 1924, a judge from Phoenix came to town to hear trials of 184 men charged with violating liquor laws. He was forced to transfer the trials to Phoenix because he was "cursed and abused by drunken citizens."
There's a story about revelers in New York City on New Year's Eve 1932. At precisely midnight, consuming alcohol was legal again. But it passed unnoticed in Prescott's annals. What would you expect in a city whose most famous street is "Whiskey Row"?
Sharlot Hall Museum/Courtesy photo<br>The bars along Whiskey Row were back in full swing as Prohibition was repealed in 1933.