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« 'Wa <i IB B k I x^-' w • ==_=====____ \ _ ' z < —- r \^ F 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 (Continued on Page ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS A YEAR :: FIVE CENTS A COPY