Prohibition in Atlantic City was ineffective, but not all residents of Atlantic City were looking forward to it; there were still two groups that opposed it. So took action, while others did not.
The 3K Party, the inactive ones, were well known to be scheming sothing nefarious, which is why Nucky had t with the leader of Atlantic City's 3K Party multiple tis, demanding they refrain from any radical actions.
The ones who took action were from the WCTU!
Although the WCTU was established in 1874, the United States had nearly a century of history of won's temperance activities. They thought that with the success of Prohibition, Arica would stay away from alcohol, but the WCTU in Atlantic City found that here, Prohibition had no effect whatsoever.
The n of Atlantic City not only did not abstain from alcohol, but they were drinking more than ever.
It was under these circumstances that the WCTU of Atlantic City began their campaign.
Groups of won, carrying various temperance banners, took to the boardwalk. They knelt in front of the taverns on the boardwalk, chanting verses from the Bible.
At the sa ti, so of the won were advising tavern owners to end their cooperation with the devil... referring to rum and other strong liquors as the devil.
Faced with such a situation, the tavern owners were naturally not going to just stand by and watch.
"These damned won, they want to reignite their holy war!"
Scott stood at the entrance of his tavern, staring at the won kneeling before him, and said with fiery eyes.
The so-called 'holy war' was actually a temperance battle waged by won in small towns like Hillsboro in Ohio and Adrian in Michigan in the Midwestern United States in 1873.
At that ti, a group of middle-class Puritan won initiated a temperance 'holy war', whose main goal was to destroy and close the local taverns.
Their actions then were just like what was happening now... no, even more insane.
"Paul, release our dogs imdiately, and have people wield clubs to drive these damned won away!"
Scott shouted angrily. He had recently fallen on hard tis. He had not gotten his supply of alcohol from Donnie before Prohibition, leading to a downturn in business compared to other taverns during those transitional days. Now, just when he was finally getting alcohol and ready to thrive, these WCTU won ca to cause trouble, a result Scott naturally couldn't accept!
"Boss, should we also talk to Donnie about this? After all, not only is our business affected, but his is too!"
Paul reminded Scott.
Scott glanced sideways at Block Tavern and saw Donnie at the entrance, observing the won's behavior just like himself, his eyes blazing, and said, "No need, we'll just disperse the won in front of our tavern!"
If there were a list of people Scott hated the most at that mont, Donnie's na would certainly rank higher than these won's.
If only Donnie had agreed to sell so of his stock to him back then, he wouldn't have had to run around begging for alcohol and eventually buying so at a high price!
Paul heard what his boss said and said no more, turning to signal the people from their tavern to start preparing to drive away the won.
"Scott is already preparing to drive away the won, what should we do?"
Robert, standing next to Donnie, asked him.
Donnie stood at the entrance of Block Tavern, his gaze fixed on the won on the boardwalk, or rather, on one of the won in particular.
Margaret Schroeder!
Her clothing was thinner compared to the other won, her face slightly bluish, clearly due to malnutrition and the cold weather.
Margaret also noticed Donnie, disbelief in her eyes, and so disappointnt.
Through their interactions over the past few days, she had co to think very highly of Donnie—a gentleman who was polite, gracious, and willing to help others.
But to Margaret's surprise, Donnie turned out to be a tavern owner!
And what they were campaigning against were the taverns!
"Of course, we watch!"
Donnie answered Robert in a low voice without turning his head.
"Does Scott still think we're in the last century? You should know, won now have the right to vote in the United States, which is their amulet. Scott's attempt to use last century's thods against them will only make him even more embarrassed!"
As Donnie's voice fell, people from Scott's tavern had already started to drive the won away with clubs and snarling dogs.
In fact, it wasn't just Scott's place—many other tavern owners were doing the sa.
In an instant, the entire boardwalk beca chaotic, and screams rose one after another.
Seeing such a situation, Donnie told Robert, "Close the door!"
"Close the door?"
John, who stood on the other side of Donnie, looked at him in surprise and couldn't help saying, "Why close the door now, when business is good? We will lose a lot!"
Donnie looked at John helplessly and said, "It's only the afternoon now, and our peak hours haven't even started. How much can we lose?"
Jon then touched his head, smiling naively, "Right, I forgot!"
As they spoke, John and Robert were preparing to close the door. However, Donnie didn't enter the tavern at that mont; instead, he dove straight into the chaotic crowd.
Pushing through the people blocking his way, Donnie arrived at Margaret's side without hesitation. At that mont, Margaret's face was pale, and her pupils were dilated with fright because a wooden stick was already swinging down towards her head.
Just as Margaret instinctively closed her eyes, waiting for the stick to fall, she suddenly felt a large hand protecting her head, and the stick that should have fallen didn't co down.
Margaret opened her eyes and saw that Donnie had already positioned himself in front of her, his right hand protecting her head, while his left hand was raised, stopping the wooden stick.
Margaret saw a pained expression in Donnie's eyes, but his whole body remained firm and steadfast in protecting her.
At that mont, the chaotic scene around them seed to have disappeared, and in Margaret's eyes, there was only Donnie.
This caused Margaret to overlook the fact that, at that very mont, Atlantic City's Sheriff Eli Johnson, along with Atlantic City's policen, had arrived at the scene. The threat of their guns quickly quieted the turmoil.
After gaining control of the scene, Eli Johnson imdiately separated the two groups of people and began to scold Scott and the others.
The situation at the scene had developed to a point where it naturally could not continue in chaos. About half an hour later, the won of the WCTU began to disperse slowly, persuaded by Eli Johnson—an act not of their submission,
but rather, a promise from Eli Johnson that he would seriously handle the incidents that had occurred that day.
"Margaret, who is this?"
Elena Dorn, president of the Atlantic City WCTU, asked upon seeing Donnie being helped by Margaret.
For a mont, Margaret didn't know how best to introduce Donnie.
It was then that Donnie spoke up, "I'm the owner of Block Tavern!"
Hearing that Donnie was the owner of a tavern, the core mbers of the WCTU imdiately directed hostile glances towards him.
At this ti, Margaret quickly explained, "Mr. Block's tavern was the first and the only one to close its doors, and he also stepped in to save many of our sisters!"
With Margaret's explanation, the look in Elena Dorn and others' eyes softened when they regarded Donnie.
Elena Dorn even went so far as to adopt a ssiah-like tone with Donnie, "Mr. Block, since you are a sensible man, you should understand that the devil is destroying this country. You ought to cage the demon and close your tavern!"
Close the tavern, and what would I eat?
Suppressing his pain, Donnie replied, "If I could, I would certainly wish to, but... just..."
Before he could finish his sentence, Donnie let out a cry of pain, causing Margaret, who had been paying close attention to his actions, to imdiately ask with concern.
"What's wrong?"
Donnie rolled up his sleeve to reveal a bruise on his forearm and forced a smile, "It's nothing."
"You need to apply dicine to that, or it could be very dangerous!" Margaret said urgently upon seeing the injury on Donnie.
"I'll go to the hospital later!" Donnie said nonchalantly.
"Do you not have... any dicine?" Margaret asked.
"I didn't prepare any!" Donnie said with a wry smile.
"Co with , I'll treat it for you!" Margaret, taking Donnie's hand, started walking beyond the boardwalk.
This allowed Donnie to smoothly avoid Elena Dorn and the others.
With Margaret's assistance, Donnie arrived at her ho, where she rummaged through her belongings to find so dicine and began treating his wounds.
"Thank you!"
Donnie sat on a chair that creaked as he expressed his gratitude to Margaret.
Concentrating on Donnie's injuries, Margaret said, "If it weren't for you, I might have been in even greater danger."
"We're friends, aren't we? Besides, you're a woman. How could I possibly stand by and watch you get hurt?" Donnie said gently.
His tone touched sothing deep within Margaret, causing her hands, which were treating Donnie, to tremble slightly.
"You're the owner of a tavern?" Margaret, seemingly focused on completing the treatnt, sat opposite Donnie and voiced the doubt that lingered in her mind.
"Yes," Donnie nodded.
"But alcohol is destroying this country!" Margaret said with anger flashing in her face when she ntioned alcohol.
She was the epito of won hurt by alcohol in the United States; her husband was a drunkard who would co ho and beat his wife!
Donnie helplessly admitted, "Actually, I don't really want to be a tavern owner, but I have no choice; it wasn't my decision to make!"
Donnie's words evoked a look of puzzlent in Margaret, and a hint of relief in the depths of her eyes. She placed her hands onto Donnies's and softly asked, "Could you tell more about your circumstances?"
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