Kewaunee County: 1920-1933 and 13 Years of Prohibition

 

Just a little over 100 years ago, President Woodrow Wilson vetoed the Volstead Act. It was the Volstead Act that provided for a special unit of the Treasury Department to enforce prohibition, the 18^th Amendment.  Wilson vetoed the act, but both branches of Congress over-rode it to make prohibition the law of the land.

In their younger years, those of a certain age were glued to TV programs about Al Capone, Elliot Ness and his federal agents, and more. Capone and John Dillinger were known to unwind in their Wisconsin hideouts, and for years there was scuttlebutt about Baby Face Nelson visiting his aunt and uncle’s farm west of Algoma. Although a connection has never been established, it’s a fun story that periodically resurfaces. Baby Face Nelson’s real name was Lester Gillis and Gillis is a name found in Kewaunee County. Lots of other places too.

During the 1940s, there were honeymooning Algoma couples – and surely others - who journeyed over gravel roads that caused multiple tire blowouts, to Three Lakes just to look at bullet holes from the famous Dillinger shoot-out. Check out Travel Wisconsin to find restaurants associated with gangster lore. They’ve even got links to gangster history.

While the Senate voted 3 – 1 against President Wilson, the American public was not entirely on board. That included Kewaunee County and its neighbors.

In July 1921, Ed Jacobs and John Schafer of Sawyer (Sturgeon Bay’s west side) were not as creative as the Virginia moonshiner who kept surplus product in a nearby cemetery. Warrants for their arrests came after their still was found in Jorgenson Swamp, also in Sawyer. Thirty witnesses appeared in 6 or 7 hearings but there were no arrests until nearly 20 gallons of moonshine were found. The finding was a total accident after several small jugs surfaced. A careful police search led to 16 gallon jugs and a small keg found in the underbrush. Jacobs and Schafer denied any knowledge when they were questioned at earlier hearings and filed charges of prejudice.

When a “sponge” squad of the state enforcement officers visited saloons in the southern and western parts of Kewaunee County in October 1921, little incriminating evidence was found among the 15 or 16 establishments, however Otto Hrabik of Krok and John Hruska of Neuren were found to have moonshine in their residences. Complaints were filed with District Attorney Leo Bruemmer who would be the prosecutor.

James Wishka’s Carlton farm was raided at the same time. A still and mash were found. The inventive Mr. Wishka had hidden his still in the treetops after manufacturing. How was it found? A tell-tale odor? Inventive also were the crooks masquerading as authorities in the western part of the county. A short time before the officers raided, several men representing themselves as dry officers “raided” and helped themselves to money in the cash registers.

Following the arrest of Hruska, Hrabik and Wishka, they pleaded guilty, Wishka to a charge of manufacturing and distilling without a permit and the other two who said they privately distilled liquor at their saloons. The men were released after paying their fines and a cost of $10 each. Hrabik paid $120, more, while Hruska was fined $175 and Wishka, $400. 

Believe it or not, Kewaunee County had its own federal agent by 1922. Agent Thomas Martin was doubtless one of the least popular men in the county, but anybody reading the papers knew he worked diligently. He found a jug of moonshine at the Hassel home in Kewaunee and used it as evidence of a purchase and transportation to a country dance at William Bohne’s saloon. The Hassels and Mr. Bohne were arrested and bound over under bonds of $500 each. Then Martin went on to raid other places in Kewaunee, Algoma and Casco, however nobody in those places was found to possess liquor. But he hit the jackpot in October 1922 when he nabbed Joseph Tebon and Erasmus Brans of Algoma. The men pleaded guilty to the manufacture of liquors, but not just then.

Tebon said the gallon and a half confiscated at his house was the first he manufactured. He had a wife and 6 kids to support. He didn’t own property and worked as a day laborer. According to the paper, the Tebons lived in Algoma’s 2^nd ward. During the raid, Martin found a 6-gallon still in the attic and 3 gallons hidden behind a dresser in the bedroom.

Farmer Erasmus Brans. who lived west of Algoma out near the railroad crossing, was raided an hour after Tebon. He also had a 6-gallon still, but had 7 gallons in his home. Both men were warned of a jail sentence for a 2^nd offense. The Record Herald told readership that together Tebon and Brans had enough moonshine to wreck the very in-ards of a garbage-fed goat and “thus it is that Algoma’s fraternity of moonshiners and bootleggers is now adorned with the names of Tebon and Brans as well as DeBauche.”

The paper went on to say bootlegging got some free advertising out of the busts although somebody would pay for it in the end. One of the federal agents raiding Tebon and Brans said he’d not feed the moonshine to a hog he cared for although the “mothers of the boys, the makers of the poison and insanity” thought it was no doubt good enough for sons and daughters of others.

Algoma Record Herald reported that the confiscated stills and liquors were being held at Algoma. The paper didn’t say what happened to the evidence, but it did say the raiding agents, Asthmuth, Sullivan and Laabs, gave grossly exaggerated reports to the newspapers.

The way the agents told it, the story could have come out of the sensationalized TV news of today! They told of the shacks hidden in the hills west of Algoma and said they were operated by two men whose occupation was running a real Kentucky still that was the chief source of moonshine on the peninsula. The agents said Tebon’s place was a 50-gallon still that had 1,500 gallons of mash and 42 gallons of shine. The agents said Brans’ shack and his 60-gallon still was two miles west of Tebon’s. Agents claimed Brans had 1,200 gallons of mash and 83 gallons of moonshine.

Readership across the state learned what a hotbed of illicit activity took place in small Kewaunee County. No doubt the righteous were thankful agents were in place to stop it. However, Kewaunee County was not what the agents made the place out to be. It appears that agents borrowed some of their story from other places, including a Door County raid conducted by the Sturgeon Bay district attorney, chief of police and sheriff. When the three local officials swooped down a few miles south of Sturgeon Bay, they found a 20-gallon still and 12 barrels of mash belonging to the Millers. The son pleaded guilty while the elder Miller pleaded not guilty. Both were bound over.

Tebon and Brans pleaded before Judge W.A. Cowell whose contemporary, Judge Grass, said, “I am not a prohibitionist; I am a temperance man.” Grass was quoted saying if he stopped at a home where he was offered wine, he’d have some. Grass felt the Volstead Act was unjust in that it enabled a rich man to have alcohol, but stopped a poor man and farmers.

Grass said his father kept a saloon so he knew what strong drink does, the sorrow and  shame of women whose husbands and sons appeared in his court, and the downfall of professional men such as doctors and lawyers. Grass felt careful thought should be given to restoring strong drink. Moonshine, he said, was deadly. Wives whose husbands drank said moonshine made them crazy. Then there were the school boys and girls drinking moonshine at dances.

Dance halls figured into the liquor laws. A dance was an easy place to find moonshine. The savvy, such as newspaper editors, felt dance hall proprietors should do more to stop the sale of moonshine before moonshine stopped the dance halls. Closing dance halls was a social and economic issue. Some felt every quart of moonshine drove in one more nail in a dance hall. Others said moonshine was a deadly poison and one as fatal as opium or morphine. The righteous saw dance halls as dens of iniquity.

In February 1923, Joseph Hlinak, owner of the Valley Inn at Bruemmerville, complained about drunk men and women from Algoma pounding on his doors while carrying bottles of moonshine. Mr. Hlinak said the folks brought their moonshine from Algoma because it could not be gotten from him. Algoma’s Mayor McGowan blamed Valley Inn when he complained about the “pickled” young couples who ride around the Algoma after dances. In a war of words, Hlinak told the mayor to clean up his back yard first. Hlinak said his dances were as respectable as any in Wisconsin and what happened in Algoma was not his concern. It doesn’t appear that McGowan followed up on Hlinak’s suggestion.

Revenue Agents raided Algoma establishments in February 1923 and found moonshine in Soucek’s saloon, and drug store whiskey at Damman’s. Several other places were raided but agents failed to find evidence. It was rumored that the pop man tipped off others about the revenuers. That prompted the paper to question the pop man about being a party to an offense, thus he would be morally guilty. The paper opined the man running a clean saloon was placed at a disadvantage by the bootleggers and deserved protection.

Caroline Soucek continued to operate the saloon after the death of her husband about three years earlier. Dammen operated his saloon in Fred Kirchman’s hotel building on the northeast corner of 4^th and Clark. In a certain sense, Mrs. Soucek and Dammen made Algoma history. They were found out in the first raid in Algoma and made the 13^th and 14^th persons to be arrested on liquor charges in Kewaunee County.

Mrs. Soucek and Henry Damman were taken into custody by federal agent Thomas Martin. Soucek had a bottle of moonshine and Damman had had a pint bottle half full of prescription whiskey. Both plead guilty to charges of intoxicants on the premises. The appearance before Judge Cowell in county court took place about 10 days before they had to appear for sentencing. Those found guilty for a second offense would be jailed for not less than 30 days and a $200 fine.

Folks were surely laughing while reading the papers in February 1923. Two Kewaunee men – Ben Olszwski and Roy Borkovitz – stole moonshine from a Green Bay bootlegger’s sleigh and were bound over on a charge of possession of intoxicants. They might never have been caught had they not been so free with the product. As it was, they sold to a 15-year-old boy who was found drunk on the streets of Kewaunee. When he revealed his moonshine source, the jig was up. While the bootlegger left his sleigh unguarded, each stole a jug. They also managed to get some shine a few weeks earlier when the bootlegger made his rounds in the county. The two men were arrested and bound over to circuit court.

A sink stopper was all it took for Agent Martin to nab John Rentmeister in Forestville in July 1923. When Martin began his inspection, Rentmeister broke a filled container in his sink. The stopper was in place and thus the evidence and container pieces were right there. The next place raided appeared to be tipped off. Places in Brussels were searched but there was nothing. Raids in northern Kewaunee County, however, yielded the best results.

Martin was back at it when he and Sheriff Webb found one of the largest stills to be found in Kewaunee County. Barney Wahl’s Kewaunee saloon yielded 2 quarts of moonshine. At Gust Rohr’s residence, the men found a still and mash.  Joseph Koralewsky’s home, also in Kewaunee, produced a still, mash and 15 gallons of fresh corn. When the men raided Montpelier and Luxemburg the following day, they hit the jackpot. Bernard Duescher was arrested at his Luxemburg farm, and his large still was taken. Duescher was under a $500 bond and did something unusual: he took his own still to Kewaunee. Duescher’s still was said to be a large box-like copper tank with about a barrel capacity. Coils of pipe ran through it, prompting those who saw it to call it unique.

When Agent Thomas Martin paid an unexpected visit to Charles Hopp’s Kewaunee saloon in September 1923, he arrested Hopp for having a liquid over 1 ½% alcohol back of his bar. Martin visited other “thirst parlors” but came up empty handed until he found the real stuff when he descended on William Haack’s farm a mile and a half north of Rio Creek. Haack had a 10-gallon still, a barrel of mash and several gallons of shine. Both men were placed under $500 bonds.

During February 1924, bootleggers of all stripes were learning about the hearings on penalties for offenders of the prohibition laws. Even the smallest bootlegger could see fines of $3,500 plus $6.40 for each gallon of liquor. Then there would be income tax assessed on the earnings as well as penalties for negligence in paying the taxes.

The August 28, 1925 Algoma Record Herald suggested energies should be directed toward getting beer. It said moonshine got away from the beer goal which was really what county populace wanted. The thing about the moonshine, though, was that it was so profitable and yielded such big returns that its traders were beginning to think they were above the law. The paper went on to say the “traders” cracked their whips, expecting the law to cringe and apologize for that law. The paper further said the situation was intolerable, however it “no doubt” grew out of “fuddled, misplaced sympathy.”

In another edition, the paper called attention to the substantial investments in the illegitimate businesses that law enforcement had to deal with. It said that “to pinch a man’s profits” means even well-meaning persons become “tools of interests they do not know.” It was the paper’s opinion that Kewaunee County was at a point were most citizens were ashamed to denounce moonshining as illegitimate traffic.

Respectable citizens by the thousands felt prohibition deprived them of liberty. But, said the paper, selling moonshine, etherized beer and “yeast-belching home beer” for more than 5 cents a glass was undisguised banditry. Besides that, moonshiners were at their trade for 5 or 6 years and never improved the quality of the product. No moonshiner wanted beer to break into the profits. The paper felt saloon men were leading the populace which was aiding and abetting them.

Moonshiners applauded by the fed? Henry Stelzer of Mishicot was. After raiding Stelzer’s in November 1928, agents praised his operation, saying it was the cleanest, most sanitary still that was ever operated in Wisconsin. They continued their praise saying Stelzer took pride in his work which had neatly arranged barrels of moonshine arranged with date of manufacture, condition of color, taste, and quality. Unfortunately, Stelzer was arrested and his outstanding whisky was destroyed. Barta Shefchek was arrested after his still and moonshine were destroyed in Franklin. Shefchek claimed he had no knowledge of his house and its contents thus declined to give any information.

When agents were unable to find evidence in the other 8 places, they felt the operators closed knowing they were being watched. Perhaps federal court in Milwaukee was not as busy as the agents would have liked.

Pastors generally had something to say, and in February 1929 Rev. N.L. Bess of the Methodist Episcopal Church said it and left Algoma agog. Bess used his sermon to attack city and school leaders and the American Legion. Could Rev. Bess go any higher than that? The sermon was one his flock remembered after they left services and before the day was out, the harangue made it to just about everyone in town. The reverend targeted moonshine traffic and said every person with “the smell of liquor on his breath” was a criminal deserving of jail.

According to Rev. Bess,  about 50 thousand dollars were spent promoting education and religion yearly in Algoma. He thought the amount testified to what the community felt was essential, but said the community lost its values in a single night when the Band Mothers and Fireman co-sponsored a dance at the Dug-Out. It was not clear where Rev. Bess got his information, but he told his congregation that there was “a dreadful amount of drunkenness” among dance goers which included teenagers. He continued saying that in a recent civics class, most students said moonshine and lack of parental authority were great societal dangers.

Bess condemned Dug-Out management saying members of the Ernest Haucke Post were responsible. But that wasn’t all. Bess directed his attack toward the police department while charging city officials with drunkenness. School leaders were attacked because of the Junior prom, a profitable activity that brought in money for other school activities. Rev. Bess felt that for earnings of $100, or even $500, Algoma was taking its youth to the Dug-Out to be ruined in one night. If Algoma’s young people had such serious drinking issues, it does not seem to have been recorded in any other issue. Was Rev. Bess overzealous?

Editor Heidmann had a note at the end of the paper’s coverage. He said two requests had been made for the paper to run a complete text of Bess’ sermon, however that would not happen because there were statements bordering on libel.

In the nearly 13 years Prohibition was in existence, there was always news, some serious, some that raised eyebrows, and some that was hilarious. When the shoe was on the other foot, J. Edgar Hoover’s G-men were sued. 

To read the papers early in 1932, animals were victims in the production of moonshine. Kewaunee Enterprise in January 1932 reported about a St. Croix County farmer suing a federal agent because of moonshine. The farmer lost 5 cows after they ate the mash that the agent dumped on the ground following a bust. It wasn’t the first time. Cows entered the moonshine world during March 1921 when a “jag” caused the death of several head of cattle in DePere. As the DePere Journal-Democrat reported the story, a farmer engaged in moonshine manufacturing when prohibition went into effect. Being tipped off that he’d be raided, he destroyed the still and fed the fermented mash to his stock. The mash didn’t agree with several animals.

There was another connection with animals – race horses to be specific. Ten years earlier in August 1922, even the Kewaunee County fair sported moonshine. Ironically, the fair article was headlined with the number of children who were in attendance. But the moonshine in the article referenced  “Moonshine Gano,” a horse owned by Louis Saams of DePere. The four-legged Moonshine was a pacer that came in 3^rd.

Louis Opicka’s $1,000 bond was one of the largest in the county for violating the prohibition laws. He was running Bill’s Inn at Casco when he was raided in August 1932. Waiving his preliminary hearing at Green Bay, he was bound over to federal court in Milwaukee.

On February 24, 1933, the paper reported Henry Zahn and Arnold Wagner of Maplewood being bound over in a curious twist of events. Their bond cost them $1,000 each, but for what? Federal Agent Paul Golz had visited Wagner’s place a week earlier to see Zahn acting as a bartender. A dance was in progress and the agent returned a few days later to make the arrest. It was reported that some beer was found in the basement, however there was no brewery in operation. The defense attorney said Wagner should be released since there was no proof if illegal activity. The commissioner did not agree.

Temperance movements began well before 1900 in efforts to regulate alcoholic beverages  and their adverse effects, however Prohibition didn’t work.  Too many Americans preferred some alcohol. There were not enough officers to enforce the law and law enforcement was often corrupted by organized crime. Law enforcement had its hands full trying to prevent the manufacture and sale of alcoholic beverages, and organized crime flourished.  

Most of Kewaunee County and the country had it with Prohibition when President Franklin D. Roosevelt issued Proclamation 2065 in early December 1933. The 18^th Amendment was repealed with ratification by 36 or the 48 states the same year.

Prohibition was both a social and political failure. It was an unenforceable policy that led to an increase in violence as criminals took advantage of a large black market. Thousands died because of Prohibition, some because of violence and some because of unregulated booze. Prohibition failed to reduce drinking. Wikipedia says alcohol consumption fell to about 30% of pre-Prohibition, but then it began rising to a level of 60-70% of the pre-Prohibition levels within a few years.     

Prohibition’s consequences included a rise in organized crime associated with the production and sale of alcohol. It also led to speakeasies, smuggling increases, and a drop in tax revenue, although people had a little more money to spend on consumer goods. Unintended consequences put Al Capone, Baby Face Nelson, John Dillinger, and others in the history books, and glorified in TV, movies, and theater. First performed in June 1975, the musical theater production Chicago – a story of the era - remains among Broadway’s longest running productions. The musical puts glamour into the Depression which brought to so much tragedy.

It has been said that if the U.S. kept alcohol legal and raises taxes, at least 10,000 deaths would have been prevented and the country would have taken in more tax money. Prohibition was a 13 year long attempt at social engineering that didn’t work.

Sources: Algoma Record Herald, Kewaunee Enterprise, Wikipedia.

Graphic sources: The poster comes from a picture I took at the Hoover Presidential Library in West Branch, Iowa, while the still equipment picture was taken in at Washington Island Farm Museum.