A century ago, Arkansans rang in 1917 with parties and a bit of partying. But judging from reports in the Arkansas Gazette and Arkansas Democrat, that New Year's Eve was a snooze compared with the one the year before -- and not only because Dec. 31, 1916, was a Sunday.
The 1915 New Year's Eve raised more of a ruckus because, when the clock struck midnight, Arkansas' Newberry Act took effect.
What did that do? It outlawed liquor sales and manufacture in Arkansas.
Although the period in U.S. history known as Prohibition didn't begin banning liquor and encouraging speakeasies until after the 18th Amendment took effect in 1920, some states, including Arkansas, dried out on their own years before. The Newberry Act effectively put every licensed saloon in Arkansas out of business at midnight Dec. 31, 1915.
The closing weeks of 1915 saw a run on liquor dealers, and according to the Gazette, most of the booze in the state made its way into private cabinets. Some Little Rock establishments had tapped out and so didn't wait until midnight to close ... even though the Anti-Saloon League had promised "out of fairness and Christian charity" to wait until Jan. 10 before commencing raids.
The same situation prevailed in Helena, where bars did such brisk business in the 10 days leading to the fatal midnight that "a remarkably small amount of 'wet goods' remained in the city," the Gazette reported.
In Hot Springs, where 31 saloons and three wholesale liquor houses faced doom, five elephants from the Jones Bros. Circus tromped into Jack Goodine's Empire bar on Central Avenue on New Year's Eve to help dispatch what remained of his beer (the circus was overwintering in the city).
Trainer "Cheerful" Gardner led his elephants through the door and into the barroom.
"Those who had their feet on the railing immediately made way for the novel patrons," the Gazette reported. "Each elephant received and eagerly drank a bottle of beer. For the benefit of
those who could not crowd into the bar room, Goodine filled a tub full of beer and placed it outside the saloon. The elephants followed Gardner into the street, and sticking their trunks into the beer, soon emptied that receptacle."
The end of legal liquor sales, the paper reported, "will not prevent those who have purchased supplies for the past 10 days from quenching their thirst at home. Never in the history of the saloon business in this city have sales been so heavy as within the past two weeks."
In Argenta, the Gazette reported, "Practically all of the saloons had sold out their stocks and closed their doors before the prohibition law went into effect." Three dealers, fearing a midnight raid, had not only locked up but also removed their furniture and fixtures. So at least on the north shore, streets were relatively quiet at midnight, with no arrests.
PART-TEE
The Gazette's "Social and Personal" column reported that the 1915 Bachelors and Benedicts' New Year's Eve Cotillion danced the old year out and the new year in at the Marion Hotel in downtown Little Rock: "The drawing rooms, corridors and ballroom were ablaze with lights and a mass of vivid floral decorations. Christmas trees were spaced about, with mimic snow and glittering ice moss. Smilax festooned the walls, wreathed the arches and columns and encircled the crimson and green New Year candles. Two orchestras back of palm screens made continuous music ...."
Roses decorated the punch table, and as midnight approached, "there was a lull in the room and an anvil was struck 12 times to hammer out the old year." Both bands played "Auld Lang Syne," a band of smilax draped over a doorway somehow lit up the words "Happy New Year, 1916," and party favors were distributed amid "a din of merry sounds."
Eventually the bands dropped their volume while guests enjoyed a fancy dinner.
As 1916 unfolded, foes of all this prohibition tried to vote away the Newberry Act but failed, setting the stage for the less rowdy New Year's Eve 1916.
Two reports from the Arkansas Gazette of Jan. 1, 1917, tell the tale.
New Year Comes in Very Quietly
"Dancing and 'watch partying' with a few pistol shots and the usual blowing of whistles, was Little Rock's celebration of the birth of the new year at midnight last night. To the ears of many the noise was a faint echo of a dirge sung a year ago when John Barleycorn and O.N. Fifteen were the principals in a double funeral."
[John Barleycorn has been a synonym for whiskey since the Scottish poet Robert Burns invented the character as a personification of cereal crops used to make liquor. "O.N. Fifteen" refers to Old Number Fifteen bourbon, so named in honor of Kentucky's history as the 15th state admitted to the Union.]
"Few persons were on the streets, except for an occasional auto load of celebrators who were trying to have a good time by firing a pistol or honking the auto horn. But the spirit, or spirits, was lacking, and they gave it up and went home.
"Watch parties were held in several churches and in many homes. In some homes the young folks danced. Most of Little Rock's society crowd was at the boathouse of the Athletic Association, where a New Year's dance was given, followed by a breakfast.
"It was very quiet in police circles, and very few arrests were made. The policemen kept awake by recalling incidents of last New Year's even, which, according to everybody who saw it, was 'some eve.'"
New Year "Zip" All Gone, Says Waiter to Self
"A waiter sat in a restaurant last night when the old year passed and 1917 was ushered in together with new resolutions and the like.
"There had been but ordinary business and now he was alone with nothing to do but wipe counters. He seated himself at a stool and gazed through the windows into the deserted street. A few people straggled by. He found himself recalling the same hour 365 days ago.
"He was one of a dozen or more tired waiters bustling about in a Little Rock cafe to wait on the throngs of persons seeing the old year out and the new year in. He served steaks, chops, etc., and poured sparkling, bubbling, gurgling liquid into many small glasses. The tips were many and he was happy.
"Then he sighed deeply.
"'Zip's all gone out of 'em this New Year. Sure is quiet tonight.'"
Next week: Buffalo Bill's Last Fight Is Almost Lost
ActiveStyle on 01/02/2017