How an Intelligence Officer Used Monopoly to Free POWs

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What got Christopher Clayton Hutton his job as an intelligence officer at MI9 wasn’t anything on his professional resume. His career as a journalist, his work in Hollywood publicity departments, and his stint as a pilot in the Royal Air Force during the First World War mattered little to the War Office when he applied in 1939. “My passport to the whole curious business,” he recounted 22 years later in his autobiography, Official Secret, “had been a casual reference to my thwarted efforts to get the better of Harry Houdini, the world’s greatest escapologist.”

During his interview, Hutton—or Clutty, as he was called—recounted to Major J.H. Russell how, on April 29, 1915, he had written to the legendary showman, challenging him to escape from a box built on stage, in full view of the audience, by the master carpenter of his father’s timber mill company. “You enter immediately,” Hutton wrote, “wenail down the lid, securely rope up the box, and defy you to escape without demolishing same.”

Houdini accepted, with one condition: that he be allowed to visit the timber mill and meet the carpenter. Hutton, then just 20, arranged the meeting—not realizing, until much later, that Houdini had used the time to bribe the woodworker. In exchange for a mere £3 (less than $5), the carpenter agreed to build the box in such a way that, once Houdini was inside and the box was concealed behind a curtain, it would be easy for the famous escape artist to push one end off using just his feet, then nail it back on properly while the orchestra at the performance played especially loudly.

Though he’d always been interested in show business, Hutton told Russell that the Houdini incident marked the beginning of an obsession with magic. “Magicians, illusionists, escapeologists in particular—they all fascinate me,” Hutton said.

“You may be the very man we want,” Russell replied. “We’re looking for a showman with an interest in escapology.” And just like that, Hutton was hired.

Hutton’s job, he learned that day, would be to build and conceal tools that would allow Allied prisoners of war to escape German POW camps. Over the course of World War II, 232,000 Western Allies (and 5.7 million Soviet soldiers) were imprisoned in the camps, most of which were located in Eastern Germany and Austria, making for a long and difficult route back home. The prisoners, Hutton’s superior told him, were being instructed to try to escape, with the hope that they would be able to divert German soldiers from the front. Clutty was given the rank of lieutenant and told to get to work.

It quickly became clear that Clutty had no respect for rules or boundaries. He often employed unorthodox methods, and stepped on plenty of toes, to get things done. “This officer is eccentric,” his commanding officer wrote to a provost marshal. “He cannot be expected to comply with ordinary service discipline, but he is far too valuable for his services to be lost to this department.” Hutton and his team regularly churned out impressive devices to aid POWs in their escape attempts, including flying boots with hollow heels that held knives, maps, a compass, and a file—and could also be transformed into civilian shoes; a telescope disguised as a cigarette holder; and compasses so tiny they could be hidden on the backs of buttons.

But as ingenious as Hutton’s concealments were, the Germans inevitably figured them out. All of them, that is, but one. This particular scheme that Clutty had hatched wouldn’t come to light until the documents were declassified four decades after the end of the war: With the help of a Leeds-based manufacturing company, Hutton hid escape kits for POWs in unassuming, ordinary-looking Monopoly games.

MAPS AND MONOPOLY

Monopoly first made its way to the UK in 1935, just a few months after Parker Brothers purchased it from Charles Darrow. Not long after, the company shipped the game overseas to its U.K. partners, John Waddington Limited, a printing and packaging company that was beginning to make the move into games. “The Waddingtons were so taken by Monopoly that they immediately licensed it in December 1935,” Philip Orbanes, a Monopoly historian at Parker Brothers and author of three books about the game, tells mental_floss. “They adapted it to the market by changing the street names to appropriate streets in London.” The game, released in 1936, was an immediate hit in England.

In its original role as a printing company, Waddingtons was responsible for creating the silk play bills that were presented to the Royal Family at command performances. This had required the company to perfect the process of printing on silk, which its workers had accomplished by stretching the material and adding a gummy substance called pectin to the ink to keep it from running. The innovation made the printing of highly detailed silk escape maps—which didn’t rustle like paper maps, were impervious to dirt and water, and didn’t distort—possible, and the company was already making thousands for MI9, which were sewn into airmen’s uniforms. It was a perfect solution if an airman somehow managed to evade capture. But what about the men who ended up in POW camps?


From the collection of Philip E. Orbanes. Click to enlarge.

Clutty knew that games were allowed into camps; the Germans believed they provided a diversion for POWs whose main activity was trying to figure out how they could escape. And then inspiration struck: Most of his devices could only conceal one tiny tool, but a game with a large board could hide a silk map, a small compass, a Gigli saw, and a file. Waddingtons made silk maps—and Monopoly. The game was large enough for what he wanted, and the fake money could conceal the real money that POWs on the run would need. It was perfect for Hutton’s all-in-one escape kit.

On March 26, 1941, Hutton discussed the matter with the company's chairman, Victor Watson, then followed up with a letter that same day, which read, in part:

Dear Mr. Watson,

Reference our conversation today. I am sending you, under separate cover, as many maps as I have in stock of the following:
Norway and Sweden
Germany
Italy

I shall be glad if you will make up games on the lines discussed today containing the maps as follows:

One game must contain Norway, Sweden, and Germany.
One game must contain N. France, Germany, and frontiers.
One game must contain Italy.

I am also sending you a packet of small metal instruments. I should be glad if in each game you could manage to secrete one of these.

I want as varied an assortment containing these articles as possible. You had then better send me 100/200 games on the straight.

In those that are faked, you must give me some distinguishing clue and also state what they contain.

Waddingtons put just a few workers on the project, secluding them in a small room, where they used cookie cutter-like dies to punch compartments exactly the size of the items into the Monopoly boards—which were then an eighth of an inch thick, compared to today’s twelfth of an inch—before gluing the game board decal over it. When their job was done, the board was indistinguishable from one a regular citizen might buy in a store.


Courtesy of Philip E. Orbanes. Click to enlarge.

GETTING THE GAMES INTO THE CAMPS

After designing his ingenious escape aids, Clutty’s greatest challenge was figuring out how to actually get them into the camps. He couldn’t use Red Cross packages, and monthly personal packages sent to POWs by family and friends were out, too. “I had no doubt that if the Germans discovered an illegal item in a ‘family’ parcel, they would have no compunction about withdrawing the privilege altogether,” Clutty wrote in Open Secret.

But Hutton knew that hundreds of organizations were sending care packages to POWs, and he decided to use that to his advantage. “We would hide our escape aids in parcels containing games, sports equipment, musical instruments, books, and articles of clothing,” he wrote. “We knew that these voluntary gifts, designed for the comfort and entertainment of the prisoners, were flooding the camps from hundreds of sources … There was no valid reason why we should not take cover behind this multiplicity of well-wishers.”

He and his team created a bunch of bogus organizations using the addresses of blitzed buildings. A printer made letterheads for the organizations “littered with quotations that we hoped would act both as clues and as an inspiration to the prisoners,” Clutty wrote. “One obvious quotation was from St. Matthew, Chapter 7: ‘Ask and it shall be given you; seek and ye shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you.’” To make their packages as authentic looking as possible, the team wrapped the parcels that supposedly came from Liverpool organizations, for example, in sheets from the Liverpool Echo.

To see if their packages were getting through, Hutton and his team enclosed “a printed card of acknowledgement on which the contents were enumerated. All the prisoner had to do was to tick off each article as received and return the card,” which was slightly bigger than the one used by the Red Cross, allowing for easy sorting by the censors. After sending out the first batch—which contained no contraband—the team waited and waited to receive cards. “We grew more and more depressed,” Hutton wrote, “telling ourselves gloomily that the Jerries had confiscated the lot and we should hear no more about the matter.”

But then, three months after they’d sent their packages, a card came in—then another, and another. The packages had gotten through! It was time to send through a batch that wasn’t entirely legitimate. “These plans of mine were greeted on all sides with complete skepticism,” Hutton wrote. “Even Major Crockatt said to me as the first 13 loaded parcels were sent, ‘They will never get through in 100 years.’” But Crockatt was wrong. Everything, even the fake material, had been delivered: “We had our entree into the camps.”

SENDING A MESSAGE

Getting the games into the camps was just one part of getting the tools to the POWs. Clutty also had to make sure that the prisoners knew what they were receiving. Clever messages that hinted at what was hidden inside the packages weren't enough; Clutty decided to train at least two members of every Air Force squadron in the art of sending hidden messages concealed in ordinary looking letters addressed to Mom and Dad.

When the trained men mailed letters back to the UK, those letters were intercepted and given to intelligence officers, who steamed them open and took a look at the date. “If it was written out, M-A-Y 3rd, the letter was simply resealed, and it went to whatever relative it was addressed to,” Orbanes says. “But if the letter’s date was numerical—three slash five slash '43—that said ‘there’s a message in this letter.’” The intelligence officer would then multiply the number of letters in the first two words to determine how many words were in the message. If the first two words were “how nice,” for example, then the officer would multiply three by four to get 12 words. “Then,” Orbanes says, “there was a technique by which he could pick out the words in the letter and write out the message.”

This allowed intelligence officers and POWs to communicate back and forth. POWs reported on conditions in the camp, and what they might need to escape—and intelligence officers let them know when special packages were coming their way. “The code user in the camp would eventually get a letter back from ‘Mom or Dad’ that would contain a secret message, and it would tell them when to expect the shipment and what the parcels might look like,” Orbanes says. The contents of Clutty's escape kits could be modified based on requests from code users.


Courtesy of Philip E. Orbanes. Click to enlarge.

Because keeping the secret of how escape tools were getting into the camps was paramount, only a few men ever knew how it was happening. Each POW camp had an escape committee that would receive the items, destroy the method of delivery by burning it in the barracks stove, and hide the tools away in false walls. “Ninety-nine percent of all the POWs had no idea of how the tools were getting into the camps,” Orbanes says. “If you and your buddies had a plan for an escape, you would go to the escape committee and present your idea. And if it was approved, they would issue you the tools you needed. So the POWs got what they needed to effectuate their plan, but they never knew how the tools got into the camp.”

THE AMERICAN EFFORT

When the United States entered the war, after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, Hutton was tasked with training his American counterpart, Captain Robley Winfrey, in the art of concealing escape tools in ordinary looking stuff. Winfrey, a civil engineering professor at Iowa State, took a leave of absence to join the Army when the U.S. entered the war; he set up a large, secret operation, Military Intelligence Services—Escape and Evasion Section (MIS-X), on the grounds of Mount Vernon in Virginia. Winfrey came up with a number of ideas to supplement Hutton’s, and it wasn’t long before MIS-X was sending out Monopoly boards loaded with escape tools, too.

But Winfrey’s operation differed from Hutton’s in one very important way: He didn’t have a factory that was making complete escape kit boards for him. Instead, he had to send MIS-X staffers in civilian clothes to stores to buy the games. “They would bring the games back to their facility and steam off the gameboard labels,” Orbanes says. “Then they would cut the compartments in, put in the particular escape tools that they wanted inside that game, and then re-apply the label—they actually had to reverse engineer the glue that Parker used.” Not even Parker Brothers knew their boards were being doctored.

GAME OVER

The Germans had discovered a number of Clutty and Winfrey’s concealments, so the duo always had to be one step ahead of the enemy. When the Germans realized that the cribbage boards prisoners were receiving actually contained radio parts, Winfrey began hiding the parts in the cores of baseballs; it took four baseballs to conceal enough parts to build one radio. Table tennis, Snakes & Ladders, chess sets, and playing cards were used to get escape tools and maps into POW camps.

When the war ended in September 1945, there was just one escape kit the Germans hadn’t discovered: Monopoly. None of the modified boards survived—the POWs had to destroy the boards that came into the camps, and MI9 and MIS-X destroyed whatever was left at the end of the war—and the role the game played wouldn’t be revealed until 1985, when British intelligence declassified documents related to Clutty’s work in MI9. MIS-X’s use of the game wasn’t revealed until 1990, when a member of that team was granted permission to tell his story.

According to Orbanes, at least 744 airmen escaped with aids created by Hutton and Winfrey. One of them was an American officer, Lieutenant David Bowling, who was a prisoner at Stalag Luft III, 100 miles southeast of Berlin. In late 1943, he responded to a commanding officer’s request for a solo escape attempt—which, if Bowling was recaptured, was punishable by death. “Leaders inside the camp had learned that the SS was attempting to wrest control of POW camps from the Luftwaffe,” Orbanes says. “With the war turning against the Germans, the SS proposed executing all POWs in order to free the security forces to bolster the front lines. This possibility had to be communicated quickly to Allied Command in England.”

Bowling spoke German well, and was issued civilian clothing, a forged ID, and a train schedule. He also traveled with German money, a silk map, a tiny compass, wire cutters, and a Gigli saw, which most likely came from a Monopoly game.

A few nights after getting the orders, Bowling waited until lights out at 10 p.m., crawled to the wire, and cut his way through, making his way to Sagan, about 10 miles away, where, the next morning, he boarded a train heading toward Switzerland, according to his map. “For days, Bowling guided his movements by his compass and map,” Orbanes says. “At times, he had to cut through fence wire to avoid walking across fields and remain hidden in woods.” Bowling eventually made it to Zurich and relayed the urgent message.

Were there more attempts like Bowling’s? Most definitely. But we’ll never know for sure just how many—most of the records, British and American, were destroyed just after the war ended. Says Orbanes, “These were better kept secrets than the Manhattan Project.”

100 Years Later: 50 Facts About Prohibition

The sheriff of Orange County, California, dumping bootleg booze during Prohibition
The sheriff of Orange County, California, dumping bootleg booze during Prohibition
Orange County Archives, Wikimedia // CC BY 2.0

For 13 years, the United States had a constitutional ban on booze. By 1920, the chorus of citizens who didn't want the "corrupting" effects of alcohol ruining society had grown loud enough that the government acted to shut down booze-based business—and on January 17, 1920, Prohibition in the U.S. officially went into effect. The 18th Amendment to the Constitution prohibited the "manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors."

Try considering what life might be like without a local pub or easy access to bottles of wine while you read these 50 not-at-all-dry facts about Prohibition.

1. Prohibition's roots are as old as the colonies.

November 1931: Evening dressed revellers buying their drinks at a bar at the time of prohibition
Revellers buying their drinks at a bar in 1931, when Prohibition was in full effect
Keystone/Getty Images

Distilled spirits were the first domestic product to be taxed by the nascent federal government, led by President George Washington, as a way to raise a significant amount of money from a popular luxury item. The tax also found support with social reformers, who hoped this "sin tax" would stop people from drinking as much.

2. Early Americans protested prohibition back then, too.

Farmers and distillers refusing to pay the tax led to the Whiskey Rebellion, which saw armed resistance challenge Washington's militia. The resistance ultimately fell apart, and two men were convicted of treason. (Washington later pardoned them.)

3. Maine got an early start on prohibition.

The first state to outlaw alcohol was Maine, which passed its law in 1851 thanks largely to the local Temperance movement leader and Quaker mayor of Portland, Neal Dow. After four years under the law, a mob of 3000 stormed city hall in 1855 when "[t]he city’s Irish working-class residents found out their teetotaling, saloon-raiding mayor was storing $1600 worth of liquor at City Hall," according to Smithsonian.com. Oops.

4. Kansas prohibited alcohol in its constitution.

Maine's prohibition test led to several other states adopting similar laws, but Kansas was the first to have a constitutional ban on alcohol manufacturing and sales. Voters passed the amendment in November 1880, and their state legislature made manufacturing alcohol a misdemeanor shortly after.

5. The Supreme Court once called alcohol "evil."

Peter Mugler set up a brewery in Kansas in 1877, and the constitutional ban made his business worthless. So when he was indicted on charges of violating the new ban, he appealed all the way up to the Supreme Court ... where he lost. In the 8-1 decision, Associate Justice John Marshall Harlan wrote that the court had to consider the social deterioration caused by alcohol and that "idleness, disorder, pauperism, and crime existing in the country are, in some degree at least, traceable to this evil."

6. Prohibition had a trial run during WWI.

Americans got a taste of prohibition when the Wartime Prohibition Act passed and took effect June 30, 1919. The idea behind the act was to preserve grain for the war effort.

7. The Prohibition Party mascot was a camel.

A photo of a camel looking into the camera
Servet TURAN/iStock via Getty Images

Republicans have the elephant. Democrats have the donkey. The Prohibition Party had the camel, a perfect symbol for not drinking.

8. Economists were in favor of Prohibition.

Many economists, including the former president of the American Economic Association, Dr. Irving Fisher, thought prohibiting alcohol would have a positive effect on the nation's economy. One major target was "Blue Monday," the wasted day of productivity following a Sunday of heavy drinking.

9. Prohibition was entangled with nativism and anti-immigrant sentiments.

While alcohol was the main enemy, communities that favored alcohol (like Catholic immigrant groups) also came under fire. Nativist rhetoric was used alongside anti-alcohol arguments that railed against alcohol as an agent of social corrosion, and at least one national Prohibition figure, Bishop James Cannon, openly used anti-Catholic language.

10. Income tax partially made prohibition possible.

Congress generally refused to consider prohibition because taxing alcohol was so lucrative. But after the income tax was established in 1913, representing two-thirds of the taxes the federal government took in by 1920, the fiscal incentive for denying prohibition was almost completely wiped out, paving the way for genuine consideration of the ban.

11. Some people believed alcohol turned your blood to water.

Odd beliefs and misinformation were common while Prohibitionists fought to get the law on the books. One belief was that your blood would become water if you drank, a notion popularized by the "Department of Scientific Temperance Instruction." But it's not the only such strange belief.

12. Prohibition rebooted the KKK.

Members of the Ku Klux Klan gather for a ceremony in the 1920s
Topical Press Agency, Getty Images

Because of the connection between Prohibition and anti-immigrant sentiment, the then-diminished Ku Klux Klan used the 18th Amendment and its social backers as a means of resurgence. The racist organization recruited from Protestant Prohibition groups and provided foot soldiers for raids where law enforcement lacked funds and people.

13. Anti-German sentiment gave prohibition a boost during WWI.

With its connection to nativism and anti-immigrant sentiment, the Prohibition movement got a big boost when the United States entered WWI against Germany. Since German Americans ran a majority of the breweries, dry activists argued that buying alcohol was akin to supporting the enemy.

14. President Wilson vetoed the Volstead Act.

While the 18th Amendment made Prohibition the law of the land, the Volstead Act defined what "intoxicating liquors" were and set the parameters for enforcing the new rule. Although publicly agnostic on the wet vs. dry issue, President Wilson vetoed the bill and declared that "personal habits and customs of large numbers of our people" should be legislated with greater caution. However, Congress overrode his veto.

15. Anti-alcohol groups claimed wine was made with cockroaches.

Dry pastor T. P. Hunt warned people off Madeira wine by saying it was "common practice" to make it with a bag of cockroaches.

16. Prohibition supporters also claimed your brain could catch fire …

Prohibition fan George McCandlish said that he'd seen a dead man's brain burst into flame when doctors tested it for alcohol with a lit match.

17. … And that your liver would grow to be 25 pounds.

Drinking does damage the liver, no doubt, but Prohibitionists exaggerated its effect in a bizarre direction when claiming the organ (which is normally about three pounds) could swell up to as much as 25 pounds while drinking.

18. Prohibition proponents also claimed that second-hand alcohol smelling would hurt unborn children.

Alfred Ploetz was a German who moved to Massachusetts in 1890 and wrote in The Influence of Alcohol Upon Race that pregnant women who merely smelled alcohol risked giving birth to deformed babies. He later moved back to Germany and joined the Nazi party as a prominent eugenicist.

19. Prohibition helped women get the vote.

Members of the Women's Christian Temperance Union (WCTU) who marched on Washington DC to present a petition supporting prohibition.
Topical Press Agency/Getty Images

Women were major leaders of the temperance movement, arguing that alcohol made men waste money, become violent, and destroy families. Frances Willard of the Women's Christian Temperance Union called the movement a "war of mothers and daughters, sisters, and wives." Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton also created the Women's State Temperance Society. In nationalizing a cause women cared about, Prohibitionists saw their success as working hand-in-hand with progress toward allowing women to vote. They managed to succeed without that, but the 19th Amendment, which granted women's suffrage, was ratified only seven months after the 18th.

20. The 18th Amendment didn't actually make drinking alcohol illegal.

As you can tell by the prohibitive language on manufacturing, selling, and transporting, the 18th Amendment didn't outlaw drinking hooch per se. There was just a lot less of it to go around.

21. There were 1520 federal agents focused on battling booze.

The Department of the Treasury and the Coast Guard were responsible for enforcing Prohibition, and 1520 agents—many with little training—combated breweries, home operations, and smugglers on land and sea.

22. Doctors had a medical loophole during Prohibition.

Medical professionals lobbied to prescribe alcohol for medicinal purposes while the drug was illegal. Thousands of doctors and pharmacists got official licenses and created a lucrative side gig. Still, there were limits on how much a patient could get: A pint every 10 days.

23. Clergy could also serve sacramental wine during Prohibition.

In 1922, IRS head and main Prohibition regulator David Blair lifted the ban on wine for religious use. It's likely that most local officials let churches use wine even before then.

24. The British refused to help crack down on illegal smuggling.

During Prohibition, British-run Nassau in the Bahamas became a smuggling hub, so the American government repeatedly asked the British government to help shut it down. They did not—probably because alcohol imports to the Bahamas jumped from 5000 quarts to 10 million between 1917 and 1922, and the government collected tariffs on all of it.

25. Winston Churchill had a doctor's note for alcohol so he could drink in America during Prohibition.

Winston Churchill takes a drink at a luncheon
Fox Photos/Getty Images

Prescriptions for medicinal alcohol were a luxury, and there was that pesky cap on how much you could get—unless you were Winston Churchill. Not only was his prescription for an "indefinite" amount of alcohol, the doctor put a minimum limit of 250 cubic centimeters (a little more than 8 ounces) on it.

26. Breweries started making ice cream and pottery during Prohibition.

While the church helped keep the wine industry afloat, beer brewers had to transition to survive. The equipment, right down to the refrigerated trucks, made ice cream a lucrative change for Anheuser-Busch and Yuengling, and Coors built and expanded their bottling company to make pottery and ceramic tubing for the military.

27. They also made beer without the alcohol.

It probably can't technically be called beer, but Anheuser-Busch also predicted Prohibition passing and launched a cereal-based, non-alcoholic drink called Bevo in 1916.

28. Anheuser-Busch had beer ready when prohibition ended.

In another sign of the company's forward-thinking, Anheuser-Busch got approval from the government to brew 55,000 barrels of beer in anticipation of Prohibition's end, which is why people could raise their glasses when they heard the law was dead.

29. People bought bread-making ingredients to make beer at home.

Basement Stills to Produce illegal Whiskey was a great way to augment or supplant family income.
Buyenlarge/Getty Images

Sorry, homebrewers: During Prohibition, it was illegal to make beer at home. Fortunately, breweries also shifted to selling malt extract to the public as a baking additive that no one actually used to bake with. One newspaper reckoned that enough malt extract was sold in an Ohio town each week to make 16 loaves for every person who lived there.

30. You could also buy a brick of grapes during Prohibition.

In a similar pivot, winemakers began selling bricks of dried grape juice that came with a warning label with explicit instructions on how not to let it soak and ferment into delicious wine.

31. Prohibition encouraged the Waldorf-Astoria to create the modern kids' menu.

Oases of adult fun, hotel restaurants used to keep children out, but with the threat of losing money during Prohibition, the famous Waldorf-Astoria in New York turned to the youth market with a special menu featuring Little Jack Horner and broiled lamb chops.

32. Medicinal booze really helped Walgreen's.

The burgeoning pharmacy credits milkshakes, but selling booze when it was illegal arguably helped Walgreen's expand from 20 stores to 525 in the 1920s.

33. Men and women started drinking together during Prohibition.

Before Prohibition, men and women were largely separated socially. The pub was a men-only domain. Once alcohol became illegal, speakeasies that were already breaking the law saw no real need to discriminate who they sold to, so women joined in the fun. Over time, men and women drinking and listening to music together in a crowded, sweaty room became the norm.

34. Prohibition gave birth to NASCAR.

Race cars speeding around a track
PICSUNV/iStock via Getty Images

The connection between illegal hooch and the sport of driving incredibly fast is a pretty obvious one: Moonshiners transported their illicit wares in the fastest cars they could build to evade police. Since driving fast is fun, people kept doing it even without cops on their tail, and by 1947, NASCAR was founded.

35. Brand-name booze became a big deal during Prohibition.

Moonshine was cheap, but it could blind you. Or kill you. So, if you had the money, you'd order something with a familiar name and a comforting label. Foreign liquor manufactures created brands specifically for the U.S. market to capitalize on the consumer desire to not be killed by unregulated hooch.

36. There was an explosion of slang during Prohibition.

Bathtub gin. Juice joint. Whale. Blotto. A lot of words sprung from the collective imagination while hooch-makers served white lightning to booze hounds on the sly.

37. Enforcement during Prohibition was tragically uneven.

While Congress and the president kept drinking, and the wealthy got by with pricey "medicinal" alcohol from pharmacies, police enforced the law to dramatic effect among urban immigrant and African American communities.

38. There was a lot of hooch at the White House.

Prohibition, schmohibition. President Warren Harding (who voted for the Volstead Act as a senator) kept a fully stocked bar in the White House and had frequent poker nights where everyone drank whiskey.

39. Congressmen kept drinking and had their own supplier.

Bootlegger George Cassiday brought bottles of alcohol to Congressional buildings in a briefcase, making an average of 25 trips a day. He became widely known as "The Man in the Green Hat" when he was arrested while wearing, ahem, a green hat, and banned from entering the Cannon House Office Building (so he switched to the Russell Building). Capitol Police largely let him go through unchecked, but the Prohibition Bureau initiated a sting operation that sent Cassiday to prison for 18 months.

40. George Cassiday estimated that 80 percent of congressmen drank illegally.

George Cassiday, bootlegger to Congress, in 1930
George Cassiday, bootlegger to Congress, in 1930
Library of Congress, Wikimedia // No known copyright restrictions

The bootlegger wrote articles for The Washington Post and claimed that 80 percent of Congress broke their own law during Prohibition. Apparently, they also left bottles lying all over the place.

41. Prohibition turned public sentiment around on tipping.

Before Prohibition, the public looked down on tipping as an outdated specter of the aristocracy. But with alcohol sales disappearing overnight, a lot of businesses suffered, so they cut corners by not paying servers as much—and encouraged customers to tip servers to make up the difference.

42. Drinking went down during Prohibition.

In the earliest days of the Volstead Act's implementation, alcohol use dropped to 30 percent of pre-Prohibition levels. It jumped back up while the 18th Amendment was still in place, but only to 60 to 70 percent of the original level.

43. Ending Prohibition took doing what had never been done.

In the United States, there are two methods of ratifying amendments to the Constitution: One is sending the amendment to state legislatures; the second is sending it to state ratifying conventions. The second method had never been used before the 21st Amendment repealed the 18th, and it hasn't been used again since. On December 5, 1933, Utah became the 36th state to approve the repeal of Prohibition, making the amendment official. Maine passed it the following day, and Montana, purely symbolically, passed it the following August.

44. Two states rejected the repeal of Prohibition outright.

Both South Carolina and North Carolina did not ratify the 21st Amendment. Even more drastically, Georgia, Kansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Nebraska, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Oklahoma didn't even call a convention.

45. FDR drank a martini to mark the end of Prohibition.

Prohibition lasted for 13 years, and when Utah put repeal proponents over the mark, President Franklin Roosevelt celebrated with a martini and said, "What America needs now is a drink."

46. Some states stayed dry after Prohibition was repealed.

As you might guess from the states who refused to even consider the 21st Amendment, not everyone was happy about going back to imbibing. Kansas, for example, prohibited alcohol until 1948. In Kansas, Mississippi, and Tennessee, counties have to opt-in to legalizing alcohol. About 18 million American now live in "dry" areas.

47. The black market made $3 billion per year during Prohibition.

A haul of illegal liquor found during Prohibition
A haul of illegal liquor found during Prohibition
National Photo Company Collection, Wikimedia // No known restrictions

Prohibition Commissioner Dr. James Doran estimated in a 1930 interview that the illicit alcohol industry pulled in $3 billion a year, with 25 million gallons of booze a year coming from "distillation in large, hidden stills." That's $45 billion in today's money considering inflation. It also cost the government $11 billion in lost tax revenue and more than $300 million to enforce.

48. Seventy percent of Americans now drink.

Despite Prohibition, Americans never fell out of love with alcohol. According to the 2018 National Survey on Drug Use and Health, about 70 percent of Americans over the age of 18 had consumed alcohol in the past year. More than half reported having a drink within the past month.

49. Almost one-fifth of Americans think drinking is morally wrong.

According to a 2019 Gallup poll, 19 percent of Americans said drinking alcohol was morally wrong, and a 2014 CNN poll [PDF] found that 18 percent believed alcohol shouldn’t be legal. So it may not be a surprise that ...

50. The Prohibition Party still exists.

Their platform is still rooted in Christianity and supports assisting vineyard operators to switch their crops.

When Mississippi Once Banned Sesame Street

Children's Television Workshop/Courtesy of Getty Images
Children's Television Workshop/Courtesy of Getty Images

Since it began airing in the fall of 1969, Sesame Street has become an indelible part of millions of children's formative years. Using a cast of colorful characters like Big Bird, Bert, Ernie, and Oscar the Grouch, along with a curriculum vetted by Sesame Workshop's child psychologists and other experts, the series is able to impart life lessons and illustrate educational tools that a viewer can use throughout their adolescence. You would be hard-pressed to find anyone—even Oscar—who would take issue with the show’s approach or its mission statement.

Yet that’s exactly what happened in early 1970, when a board of educational consultants in Mississippi gathered, polled one another, and decided that Sesame Street was too controversial for television.

The series had only been on the air for a few months when the newly formed Mississippi Authority for Educational Television (also known as the State Commission for Educational Television) held a regularly scheduled meeting in January 1970. The board had been created by the state legislature with appointees named by Governor John Bell Williams to evaluate shows that were set to air on the state’s Educational Television, or ETV, station. The five-member panel consisted of educators and private citizens, including a teacher and a principal, and was headed up by James McKay, a banker in Jackson, Mississippi.

McKay’s presence was notable for the fact that his father-in-law, Allen Thompson, had just retired after spending 20 years as mayor of Jackson. Highly resistant to integration in the city during his tenure in office, Thompson was also the founder of Freedom of Choice in the United States, or FOCUS, an activist group that promoted what they dubbed “freedom of choice” in public schools—a thinly veiled reference to segregation. Mississippi, long the most incendiary state in the nation when it came to civil rights, was still struggling with the racial tension of the 1960s. Systemic racism was an issue.

Entering this climate was Sesame Street, the show pioneered by Joan Ganz Cooney, a former journalist and television producer who became the executive director of the Children’s Television Workshop. On the series, the human cast was integrated, with black performers Matt Robinson and Loretta Long as Gordon and Susan, respectively, appearing alongside white actors Jada Rowland and Bob McGrath. The children of Sesame Street were also ethnically diverse.

Zoe (L) and Cookie Monster (R) are pictured in New York City in November 2009
Astrid Stawiarz, Getty Images

This appeared to be too much for the Authority, which discussed how lawmakers with control over ETV’s budget—which had just been set at $5,367,441—might find the mixed-race assembly offensive. The panel's participants were all white.

The board pushed the discussion aside until April 17, 1970, when they took an informal poll and decided, by a margin of three votes against two, to prohibit ETV from airing Sesame Street—a show that came free of charge to all public television stations. (The decision affected mainly viewers in and around Jackson, as the station had not yet expanded across the state and was not expected to do so until the fall of 1970.)

The members who were outvoted were plainly unhappy with the outcome and leaked the decision to The New York Times, which published a notice of the prohibition days later along with a quote from one of the board members.

“Some of the members of the commission were very much opposed to showing the series because it uses a highly integrated cast of children,” the person, who did not wish to be named, said. “Mainly the commission members felt that Mississippi was not yet ready for it.”

The reaction to such a transparent concession to racism was swift and predictably negative, both in and out of Mississippi. Board members who spoke with press, usually anonymously, claimed the decision was a simple “postponing” of the show, not an outright ban. The fear, they said, was that legislators who viewed ETV as having progressive values might shut down the project before it had a chance to get off the ground. It was still possible for opponents to suffocate it before it became part of the fabric of the state’s television offerings.

The concern was not entirely without merit. State representative Tullius Brady of Brookhaven said that ETV exerted “a subtle influence” on the minds of children and that the Ford Foundation, which funded educational programming, could use its influence for “evil purposes.” Other lawmakers had previously argued against shows that promoted integration.

Grover is pictured at AOL Studios in New York City in May 2015
Slaven Vlasic, Getty Images

Regardless of how the decision was justified, many took issue with it. In an anonymous editorial for the Delta Democrat-Times, a critic wrote:

“But Mississippi’s ETV commission won’t be showing it for the time being because of one fatal defect, as measured by Mississippi’s political leadership. Sesame Street is integrated. Some of its leading cast members are black, including the man who does much of the overt ‘teaching.’ The neighborhood of the ‘street’ is a mixed one. And all that, of course, goes against the Mississippi grain.”

Joan Ganz Cooney called the decision a “tragedy” for young people.

Fortunately, it was a tragedy with a short shelf life. The following month, the board reconvened and reversed its own informal poll result, approving of Sesame Street and agreeing that ETV could air it as soon as they received tapes of the program. Thanks to feeds from Memphis, New Orleans, and Alabama, Sesame Street could already be seen in parts of Mississippi. And thanks to the deluge of negative responses, it seemed pointless to try to placate politicians who still favored segregation.

In the fall of 1970, the Sesame Street cast appeared in person in Jackson and was met by representatives from the board, which helped to sponsor the live performance, though it’s not clear any apology was forthcoming.

Sesame Street would go on to win numerous awards and accolades over the proceeding 50 years, though it would not be the only children’s show to experience censorship on public television. In May 2019, ETV networks in Alabama and Arkansas refused to air an episode of the PBS animated series Arthur in which a rat and aardvark are depicted as a same-sex couple getting married.

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