August 11th, 2009

I felt well enough yesterday to make a pilgrimage to the library to review microfiche that had just come in from the Kansas State Historical Archives. One of the books I’m working on is about women journalists from the Old West and Carrie Nation is the current focus of study. Throughout the late 1800s and into the early 1900s, Carrie led a crusade against alcohol. She published a newspaper called The Smasher. She named the paper after one of her most violent crusading actions, smashing up barrels of liquor with an ax. She was dedicated to the idea that alcohol was the root of all evil. She was married twice and both husbands drank to excess. She took her intolerance of the beverage to the streets and saloons. She was arrested several times for her violent actions, but it never deterred her in the slightest. One of the sections in her newspaper was dedicated to the many letters she received. The letters were both in favor and against, what she stood for. She bravely ran all the letters from readers and drinkers who opposed her position that liquor was the “devil’s tonic.” The letters criticizing her behavior were published under the heading “From Hell”. The letters praising her bravery were published under the heading “From Heaven.” Whether or not you agree with what she did you have to admire her spunk and dedication to a cause. If Carrie Nation were alive today she would come face to face with a faction of the public who believe that alcoholism is disease and that some individuals need help with their problem. I have an uncle that falls into that category. I’m trying to trivialize the nightmare that is addiction. It’s a difficult thing when you start to notice that someone close to you has a drinking problem. You see little signs, like when they ask the waitress what wine goes with a grand slam breakfast. Or when they go to a liquor store and bring their own hand truck. Or when they walk up and down the bar pointing at people’s drinks, asking, “Are you gonna finish that?” I realize that some people get dealt a lousy genetic hand. I’m sure there are some physical predispositions to alcohol abuse – maybe lacking certain chemicals in your brain, maybe a problem with your metabolism, maybe just being a Kennedy. Many people go for decades without addressing their steadily worsening problem. Occasional cracks in their armor may leave them shaken but not stirred to action. Others, however, get tired of French-kissing the gutter drain and join Alcoholics Anonymous. I think that Alcoholics Anonymous is truly a wonderful, lifesaving organization, and Carrie Nation would have been proud of the group. Not everyone with a problem believes that AA is the solution. Some of my relatives are still in denial about their addition. Anyone in AA will tell you that first and foremost, you have to admit to having a problem. Here are some blurred signposts that might signal you’re weaving down the road to alcoholism. 1. If you walk out of the movie Leaving Las Vegas early because you’re thirsty. 2. If Boris Yeltsin asks you for your autograph. 3. If you have to paint the words “don’t panic, you’re at home” on the ceiling above your bed. There’s no doubt Carrie Nation was an extremist, but sometimes that’s what it takes to get someone’s attention.