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VOLUME EIGHT
NUMBER FORTY-THREE
BAINBRIDGE BRAVELY BANISHES “BOOZE”
The Royal Mayor and Council of the Beautiful South Georgia City Rise Up and Put an “Annihilation ” License of Ten
Thousand Dollars on “Near Beer Saloons — W. C. T. U. Sings Psalms of Gladness.
T IS not “down on the Suwanee
River” this time, but down on the
banks of the Flint river—deep,
broad and majestic—that there is
a ringing chorus of rejoicing in a
brave, beautiful city.
Bainbridge, the home town of
the silver-tongued prohibitionist,
Judge Wm. Harrell, has bravely
I
banished “booze!” Seven “near beer” sa
loons and one wholesale beer depot (unless their
keepers decide to go into a better business)
will have to move over the line to Florida —or
up to Albany, or over to Valdosta, or out to
Savannah —for they “bite the dust” in Bain
bridge on the night of December 31st, and the
first sun of 1913 will rise, thank the Lord, on
Decatur county’s plucky capital, a “booze
less,” spotless town!
Decatur was one of the last counties in Geor
gia to go dry under “local option,” and be
cause there was a strong “liberal” sentiment
in the town proper, Bainbridge was one of the
first towns to embrace the “near beer” privi
lege— (what a travesty and a tragedy that the
state ever allowed such a compromise with the
“booze-bossed” crowd!)
To be sure, the sale of liquor itself was not
allowed —or supposed to be —but it was some
thing that “made drunk come.”
The sober element of the city rebelled. The
county outside of Bainbridge “just dared” the
town to give ’em a chance to vote on it —they
would wipe the whole business into the Flint
river—not the saloon keepers—(oh, no! they
are not yet prepared to go) but the business
that prospered only on the debauchery of coun
try cranks and city simpletons.
They Signed Their Own Death Warrant.
The thing grew worse and worse. The tide
began to turn. Larger and larger grew the
ranks of those who were disgusted. As is so
often the case when evil is countenanced by
law, liberty became license indeed, and the
beer saloons practically signed their own death
warrant.
It began to be whispered around that the
mayor and council had made up their minds not
to renew the license of these dens of drink.
But to crystallize sentiment and make assur
ance doubly sure that wide-awake White Rib
bon Band, the W. C. T. U., got very busy. Un
der the leadership of their “dainty but dyna
mic” president, Mrs. W. Carey Cox, a big Sun
day afternoon rally at the court-house was
called. The writer was honored with the privi
lege of being the speaker. The court-house was
crowded; the enthusiasm was glorious. Peo-
THAT LAW-BREAKING SAVANNAH-Page Four
ATLANTA, GA., b/> MBER 19, 1912
pie motored in from Leia, Iron City, Brinson,
Cyrene, and doubtless other country points,
showing their intense interest in seeing Bain
bridge “clean up.”
And when the vote was put on the propo
sition to drive beer saloons and locker clubs,
not only from Bainbridge, but from all Geor
gia, that great crowd sprang to their feet with
an enthusiasm that was electrical.
And after that meeting the beer dealers
were prepared to sing:
“Ye living men, come view the ground
Where you shall shortly lie.”
An Overwhelming Petition.
Still, as a last desperate resort the friends
of the beer saloons started a petition to present
Ml®?\
I MAYOR JOHN W. CALLAHAN.
to council, saying: “Gentlemen, please let us
live.”
But that petition brought on more talk. It
was like a match in a powder can.
The W. C. T. U., the Baraca and Philathea
classes dashed into the field and before you
could say “Jack Robinson,” or anything else,
very often, they had piled up such an avalanche
of names asking for the head of “John Barley
Corn” on a charger, that the beer crowd “just
quit. ’ ’
By WILLIAM D. UPSHAW, Editor.
Step by step Bainbridge had been prepared
for this civic and moral upheaval.
For several years, “off and on”—mostly
on, Carl Minor around at the Baptist church,
had been vigorously calling things by their
right name; Pastor Ward, at the Presbyterian
church, had counted it a part of the gospel to
rebuke “spiritual” wickedness in high places;
while Walter Anthony, in one brief, bristling
year at the Methodist church, had exploded
social “bomb shells” which “hit the spot,”
“set the hair” and “busted the gall” in the
“wide-open” sympathizers in away that hast
ened the gathering storm.
When Monday night, December 2nd, came,
all ears and eyes were turned toward the coun
cil chamber. The one lone aiderman, poor fel
low, who spoke in favor of being allowed to
live, was the wholesale dealer himself. Every
body was in a good humor and gave him a pa
tient hearing—saying afterward that they
wanted to soothe his “last hours” as much as
possible, but when the vote came it was five
to one in favor of a boozeless, beerless, spotless
town!
And these are “the boys” who “put the fix
ings” on beer saloons in Bainbridge: E. J.
Willis, E. Troup Hines, J. M. Lang, J. M. Dif
fee, and Dr. Gordon Chason—an old Mercer
school-mate of the Editor of The Golden Age.
Mayor Callahan Is Glad.
Mayor John W. Callahan, of course, is glo
riously “dry,” and this enterprising head of
brave, “boozeless” Bainbridge, was radiant
when he was asked for an expression for The
Golden Age: “I am proud of Bainbridge,” he
said, “and very proud of our aidermen. 1
have been on the council for about fifteen
years, and the present board of aidermen will
average up as the strongest all around board
from every standpoint, that we have ever had.
As for this beer business, I have told them
from the start: ‘lf you will just give me one
good reason for their existence, I will discuss it
with you.’ Such things do no good to any
community, and I rejoice that the town which
has honored me as its mayor has determined
to ‘keep house’ as a municipality without de
pending on the debauchery of any citizen as
means to that end. I love my home town
ter than ever, and predict her steady gidfl
toward all that is best and highest.”
The President Couldn’t
Mrs. AV. Carey Cox. president of i
T. U., says:
“The heart of every white rfl
made to leap with joy when, on MB
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