"Ignorance is not innocence, but it is the promoter of crime" (Carry A. Nation, The Use and Need of the Life of Carry A. Nation).
And darling Carry, "your loving home defender," would know all about the way ignorance promotes crime.
Carry A. Nation was as drunk as they come, a violent whiskey drinker at heart. She was so obsessed with spirits, and with "dives" that she made a career and reputation out of finding every hole-in-the-wall bar, then tearing up the town, leaving the business owners to clean up and pay for her barroom brawls, and intoxications. She was as intemperate as they came and damn proud of it. She'd think about going to town for days before setting out on one of her binges which she called "hatchetations."
Sometimes, the urge would begin as a soft voice telling her to "Go to Kiowa," rip it up girl! And she'd quietly begin collecting bits of brick and stone, wrapping them in paper and placing them in a box. These were her "smashers." Without them she couldn't have a proper good time. Then, when she could stand it no longer, she'd hitch up the wagon and head to town and get higher than a kite. As time went on, she found that the hatchet worked as good, or better than the "smashers." But the best tools of all were the Bible, the female body, hymns, and sobbing.
"I have never had so light a heart or felt so well satisfied as since I smashed those murder mills," Carry declares in chapter 7 of her autobiography, The Use and Need of the Life of Carry A. Nation.
The first time she painted the town red was June 7, 1900 at Dobson's and two other "dives" in Kiowa, Kansas. It was wonderful. She broke as many windows, and mirrors as she found glaring at her. When she was finished there was beer running in the streets. After that, she was addicted and no man was going to stop her. If there was any alcohol to be had, she was entitled to every last drop, and as God was her witness, she'd prevent those greedy men from drinking it all.
Carry admitted she was a bit of a nuisance, leaving steaming piles of refuse in the wake of her hatchetations, saying she was "a bulldog running around about the feet of Jesus, barking at what he doesn't like," but that didn't stop her. As far as she could tell, from her readings, Jesus doesn't mind wiping feet, and even enjoys this task. She was doing Him a favor, giving Him something to do.
"I would rather have my son sold to a slave-driver than to be a victim of a saloon. I could, in the first case, hope to see him in heaven; but no drunkard can inherit eternal life" (Nation, ch.1). That's why Jesus made wine at the wedding and served it up at Passover--to prevent them from eternal life, since they wouldn't submit to slavery on earth.
Carry A. Nation, had a daughter (not a son) that she dearly loved. Of Charlien she writes endearingly:
"My precious child seemed to have taken a perfect dislike to Christianity. This was a great grief to me, and I prayed to God to save her soul at any cost; I often prayed for bodily affliction on her, if that was what would make her love and serve God. Anything for her eternal salvation.
"Her [Charlien] right cheek was very much swollen, and on examination we found there was an eating sore inside her cheek. This kept up in spite of all remedies, and at last the whole of her right cheek fell out, leaving the teeth bare. My friends and boarders were very angry at the physician, saying she was salivated. From the first something told me this is an answer to prayer" (Nation, ch. 4).
Evidently, Charlien's cheek falling off when she was 12, leaving her deformed and with a jaw locked shut was a wonderful sign of God's mercies upon the "infidel" little creature. Really, Charlien's problem was her father, Charles Gloyd, who passed down a curse: "Oh, the curse that comes through heredity, and this liquor evil, a disease that entails more depravity on children unborn, than all else, unless it be tobacco" (Nation, ch. 4).
Somehow, and modern geneticists will agree because science has advanced so much since the late 1800's, Charlien's suffering and dislike of Christianity was due to her deceased father's liquor drinking, which contaminated her DNA. If only he had lived long enough to experience real intemperance with Carry. But alas, he left that to another, David A. Nation.
Carry A. Nation had a real soft spot in her heart for black citizens, a "kindly feeling":
"The race question is serious one. The kindly feeling between black and white is giving place to bitterness with the rising generations. One reason of this seems to be jealousy of the whites for fear the negroes will presume to be socially equal with them. The negro race should avoid this, should not desire it, it would be of no real value to them. They are a distinct race with characteristics which they need not wish to exchange. When a negro tries to imitate white folks, he is a mongrel. I will say to my colored brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus; Never depart from your race lines and bearings, keep true to your nature, your simplicity, and happy disposition--and above all come back to the 'Oldtime' religion, you will never strand on that rock" (Nation, ch 2).
That's right. Whenever anyone tries to "imitate" the freedoms that others have, when one forgets their place and forgets to fake a "happy disposition" to their superiors, rises above "simplicity" and irks the jealousy of another they are "a mongrel," not a bulldog.
Carry A. Nation right into hell and intemperance on a level never seen before. Thanks to women like her, unafraid to tear up the town, America got the Mafia and the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre. Now, that's what I call real intemperance.
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