
Uncle Frank was one of those who found a way to get around the law. Following a business plan he copied shamelessly from another tavern-operator in Pennsylvania, Frank opened a bookstore in Akron, Ohio. Make that "a bookstore." In an unused storefront, he built bookcases along the walls and filled them with people's unwanted, used, or old books. Who knows? There might even have been some literary gems on his shelves. Then he added "reading stations" and invited his customers to sit down at small tables to read and discuss books with each other. The lights were a little dim for reading, but not for literary discussions. Each table was stacked with additional books, water glasses were available because reading can be dry work, and the floor was covered in sawdust to soak up any accidental spills.
This was a speak-easy sophisticated enough to surpass those legendary back rooms with their vats of bathtub gin. In Frank's Bookstore, if you were a valued customer (meaning if you had money), he would tell you which books on the table contained the night's menu. "Try the third volume from the bottom of the pile," he might suggest, "and be sure to notice the flowery phrases on page 73." And page 73 would list what contraband bottles of nectar had been delivered to his back door recently.
Was it illegal? Of course. Did he have to do business with organized crime? Yes. Was he a bootlegger? He was. And would he go to jail if he got caught? Not only would he -- he did so on several occasions, cooling his heels until Pearl could bail him out. Still, if the customers were quick and observant, they drank their shots in a single gulp and filled their glasses with water the minute there was a rumor of a raid. By the time the agents pushed their way through the doors of the bookshop, the customers were looking very serious, paging through the volumes on their table, pointing out certain passages, and proclaiming the literary excellence of this or that author. They might even grab one of the agents and try to sell him a book (just not the one with the menu inside).
Peal and Frank O'Neill were a happy couple. She was an attractive addition to the staff of the bookstore, and he was just dangerous enough to be exciting. By the time I knew them, of course, Prohibition had been repealed, taking most of the fun out of running a speakeasy. Still, they kept the business going until Frank dropped dead of a heart attack, and Pearl was on her own once more. I used to wonder, when she talked sadly about the "good old days in the bookstore," whether she missed the man or missed the fun of outwitting the law.
Well that is just a very interesting story for sure. I am learning so much!
ReplyDeleteI wonder if wuch an literary enterprise woukd work today...just for old times sake ...lol
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