20 Banned Speakeasy Secrets History Tried to Erase

20 Banned Speakeasy Secrets History Tried to Erase

The Paradise Club in Chicago operated behind an unmarked door in 1926. To get in, patrons had to say a password that changed every 24 hours. The phrases were always lines from religious hymns. On September 12th, the password was "Abide With Me." The owner, Earl Bishop Torrio, was a former seminarian who picked the phrases himself. That night, six federal agents tried to get in undercover and were left stranded on the sidewalk.

During Prohibition, a cheap drink called Jamaica Ginger, or "Jake," cost about ten cents a shot. In 1930, manufacturers mixed the formula with a chemical called triorthocresyl phosphate to fool government inspectors. Around 50,000 Americans were left paralyzed in their legs and hands. The condition became known as "Jake leg." Nobody went to jail and nobody got sued. The manufacturers paid off federal agencies and moved on.

In Detroit, between 1927 and 1929, St. Michael's Lutheran Church hid a speakeasy in its basement. Every Saturday night, church members drank cold beer downstairs while the pastor handled the cash. He set aside $2 from every entry as a tithe. When federal agents raided the church in March 1929, they found 140 people, three barrels of beer, and the pastor sitting calmly with a Bible. He walked free because no parishioner said a word against him.

Elliot Ness and the Untouchables were more of a marketing story than a serious police force. Between 1930 and 1933, they carried out only 11 major operations. They shut down one distillery and arrested 38 men, none of whom served more than 18 months. Chicago had around 10,000 speakeasies running at the same time. Ness’s crew touched roughly 0.4% of the city’s illegal liquor trade. The legend was built by newspapers and later embraced by Hollywood.

Fancier speakeasies in New York served better food than many regular restaurants. It was a survival strategy. Police could shut down an illegal bar, but they could not touch a restaurant. The 21 Club opened in 1921 on 52nd Street and served duck à l'orange, lobster thermidor, and filet mignon. Federal agents tried to shut it down five times. Each time, the owners showed the judge the menu and said, "We're a restaurant." It worked every time. The 21 Club survived Prohibition and is still open today.

Dutch Schultz set up an early warning system around 1905. He paid a New York switchboard operator $200 a month to listen to police radio calls. When a raid was planned, she called the speakeasy and said, "Your neighbor is sick." That gave the bar about four minutes to prepare. In that time, staff would hide 200 bottles in a fake basement and flip the tables. By the time police walked in, the bar looked like a regular lunch spot.

In working-class neighborhoods in New York and Chicago, speakeasy owners used boys between 8 and 12 years old as lookouts. The boys stood on corners and whistled when they saw police coming. They made 50 cents a night and were called "Canaries." Most were sons of Italian and Irish immigrants, and much of the money went toward school. In 1928, the Chicago Tribune found 847 boys doing this job regularly. No adult was ever taken to court for exploiting them.

Prohibition had a major loophole: alcohol for medicinal use was legal. In 1921, the federal government issued 57,000 licenses allowing doctors to prescribe medicinal whiskey. In the first year alone, 11 million doses were prescribed. In Detroit, one doctor signed whiskey prescriptions for 411 patients in a single day. Behind the largest pharmacy chain distributing therapeutic alcohol was Meyer Lansky. The scheme brought in $3 million a year.

Inside the Willard Hotel in Washington D.C., a speakeasy ran on the eighth floor from 1920 to 1933. It operated right under the law’s nose. The clientele included 31 sitting senators, 89 members of Congress, two cabinet secretaries, and three Supreme Court justices. One of those justices had voted to keep Prohibition in the Constitution. The guest book was burned in 1934, but a few photos survived.

In Chicago in the 1920s, bribery had a fixed price list. Small speakeasies paid $75 a month. Medium-sized ones paid $200. The big ones paid $500. The deal included protection from raids and a phone call warning when inspectors were on the way. Al Capone had a man nicknamed "Chief of Police" just to collect the money. Chicago speakeasies poured $75 million a year into bribes, around $1.3 billion in today’s money.

In 1923, all of New York was talking about the El Fey Club. Newspapers mentioned it, society columns named celebrities who had been seen there. The only problem was that the El Fey Club never existed. Columnist Walter Winchell invented the fake address to throw off police and protect the real hotspot, the Silver Slipper. For two years, federal agents chased a bar that only existed on paper. The Silver Slipper served whiskey to 300 customers a night without ever getting raided.

Ice became one of the most profitable products during Prohibition. A 100-pound block cost about $1.50, but a cold drink in a speakeasy could bring in eight times that much. Trucks delivering ice through New York and Chicago were also carrying whiskey hidden in the back. Police looked at the ice on top and waved them through. The ice industry grew 340% between 1920 and 1929 in cities packed with speakeasies.

On October 14th, 1924, Chicago mayor William Dever mobilized 4,000 police officers to hit every known speakeasy at the same time. By sunrise, 2,081 places had been shut down and 1,200 people were behind bars. Within seven days, 4,100 new speakeasies opened at different addresses. The illegal liquor trade grew 12% the following month. Dever never tried anything like that again.

In 1926, the Bureau of Prohibition tested 500 bottles sold as imported French champagne in New York. Only 6% were real champagne. 31% were cheap wines with fake labels. 41% were a mix of industrial alcohol, citric acid, and injected carbon dioxide. 22% were literally vinegar with artificial bubbles. The price was $12 a bottle, about $210 today. Customers drank it and swore they could taste Paris.

Zona Gale was one of the first female federal agents. Between 1923 and 1926, she infiltrated 14 speakeasies by posing as a dancer and waitress. She helped put 47 speakeasy owners behind bars. Her method was simple: she took a job, worked for about three weeks, wrote down everything, slipped out, and came back with a warrant. The Bureau never publicly recognized her work because her boss believed women had no place in the field.

The 21 Club on 52nd Street opened in December 1922 and did not close for a single night during the next 13 years. That is 4,030 straight days. The owners spent $300,000 on a security system that included a secret wine cellar, a pipe system that could destroy every bottle in seconds, and steel fake walls. When Prohibition ended in 1933, they simply unlocked the front door and kept serving whiskey.

Between 1924 and 1930 in Cook County, 73% of criminal cases tied to speakeasies ended in acquittal. In 1928, the Department of Justice found that 12 of the county’s 17 trial judges were on the Mafia’s payroll. They were paid between $500 and $2,000 per case. Three judges were indicted. One fled to Mexico. The other two were acquitted by their fellow judges on the same court.

When Prohibition began in 1920, Walgreens had 20 stores. By 1929, that number had jumped to 505. The growth was driven by a loophole allowing medicinal whiskey sold with a doctor’s prescription. A 1932 internal audit showed that 40% of Walgreens revenue came from alcohol-based products. Founder Charles Walgreen refused to testify before Congress that year. When Prohibition ended, Walgreens was already the biggest drugstore chain in the United States.

On July 15th, 1929, federal agents in Detroit raided warehouses and seized 30,000 bottles of illegal liquor. The evidence was locked in the fifth precinct. Within three weeks, 28,000 bottles vanished from official records. An investigation found that police were reselling the confiscated alcohol to the same bootleggers they had arrested. The precinct chief was fired. No officer was arrested, and none spent a day behind bars.

On December 5th, 1933, at 5:32 p.m., Utah became the 36th state to ratify the 21st Amendment, ending Prohibition. Al Capone was in prison, consumed by syphilis. Elliot Ness was out of a job. The owners of the big speakeasies simply got licenses, kept the same trucks and routes, and carried on legally. The only thing that really ended was the insane profit. Crime did not leave the stage. It just changed suits.