The Use and Need of the Life of Carrie A. Nation [34]
good Christian woman, came to my
home crying bitterly and between sobs told me, that for six weeks her husband
had been drinking at Durst's bar, until he was crazy. She had been
washing to feed her three children and for some days had nothing in the
house but cornbread and molasses. She said that her husband had come
in, wild with drink and run his family out and kicked over the table and
she said: "I came to you to ask you what to do."
I did not speak a word, for I was too full of conflicting feelings; but I
put on my bonnet and Sister Elliott asked me what I was going to do. I
told her that I did not know, but for her to come with me. We walked
down to Henry Durst's place, a distance of half a mile. I fell down on my
knees before the screen and began to call on God. There were five men
in there drinking. I was indifferent to those passing the street. It was a
strange sight to see women on their knees on the most prominent part
of the street. I told God about this man selling liquor to this woman's
husband, and told Him she had been washing to get bread, and asked God
to close up this den and drive this man out. Mrs. Elliott also prayed. We
then told this man that God would hear and that hell was his portion if
he did not change. In a short time he closed his bar, left his family
there, and went to another state. His property was sold gradually and he
never returned, except to move his family away, and I heard afterwards
he was reduced to poverty.
Another jointist was named Hank O'Bryan. In passing his place one
night from prayer-meeting, I smelled the horrid drink and went in. A
man by the name of Grogan was there, half drunk, and I said: "You have
a dive here." Mr. Grogan replied: "No, Mother Nation, you are wrong,
and I can prove it."
"Let me see what you have in the back room," I asked. "All right,
Mother," he said, and took me through several windings, until I came to a
very small room with a table covered with beer bottles, that had been
recently emptied, and in one corner sat a man, Mr. Smith, a man from
Sharon, who the W. C. T. U. had been talking of handling for selling
liquor in that town. Mr. Grogan introduced me to him, and he, Mr.
Smith, looked terrified and astonished. I took up one of the bottles
and asked what it had contained. His reply: "Hop Tea." I asked:
"What name is that on the label?" It was "Anheuser-Busch," but I could
get neither of them to pronounce it. I turned up one of the bottles and
put it to my lips and told them that it was beer, and that I could take an
oath that it was. Grogan threw up his hands saying: "Now, Mother
Nation, if you get me into trouble I will do something desperate." I
had visited this man Grogan in jail about a year before this, where
he was put for getting drunk and fighting. I said: "I do not wish
to get either of you in trouble, but want to get you out." I had my Bible
with me and I opened it to several passages where drink was condemned,
and told them where it would lead. I told them I would not speak of this
to anyone. When I said I would not "tell on them" the look of gladness
on their faces was pitiful to see.
I said, I am going to pray God to have mercy on you. Kneel down,
like two obedient little children--they knelt--some may smile at this,
but I was deeply affected and felt a compassion and tenderness toward
these poor men, whom the devil was leading captive at his will. That
prayer I offered, was heard.
In one week from that time this man Grogan came to my house; one
Sunday morning, and fell down at my feet crying and wringing his hands,
saying: "Oh! Mrs. Nation I am going to hell, but it is not your fault and
I came to ask you to pray for me." He was in great agony of soul.
He had been drinking until he was almost crazy. He left in about half
an hour, saying he "was going to hell," but I told him, no; to have faith
in God and He would save him.
This was the last I saw of him, but I heard afterwards that he had
a small store in Wichita and was living in the rear of it with his family.
home crying bitterly and between sobs told me, that for six weeks her husband
had been drinking at Durst's bar, until he was crazy. She had been
washing to feed her three children and for some days had nothing in the
house but cornbread and molasses. She said that her husband had come
in, wild with drink and run his family out and kicked over the table and
she said: "I came to you to ask you what to do."
I did not speak a word, for I was too full of conflicting feelings; but I
put on my bonnet and Sister Elliott asked me what I was going to do. I
told her that I did not know, but for her to come with me. We walked
down to Henry Durst's place, a distance of half a mile. I fell down on my
knees before the screen and began to call on God. There were five men
in there drinking. I was indifferent to those passing the street. It was a
strange sight to see women on their knees on the most prominent part
of the street. I told God about this man selling liquor to this woman's
husband, and told Him she had been washing to get bread, and asked God
to close up this den and drive this man out. Mrs. Elliott also prayed. We
then told this man that God would hear and that hell was his portion if
he did not change. In a short time he closed his bar, left his family
there, and went to another state. His property was sold gradually and he
never returned, except to move his family away, and I heard afterwards
he was reduced to poverty.
Another jointist was named Hank O'Bryan. In passing his place one
night from prayer-meeting, I smelled the horrid drink and went in. A
man by the name of Grogan was there, half drunk, and I said: "You have
a dive here." Mr. Grogan replied: "No, Mother Nation, you are wrong,
and I can prove it."
"Let me see what you have in the back room," I asked. "All right,
Mother," he said, and took me through several windings, until I came to a
very small room with a table covered with beer bottles, that had been
recently emptied, and in one corner sat a man, Mr. Smith, a man from
Sharon, who the W. C. T. U. had been talking of handling for selling
liquor in that town. Mr. Grogan introduced me to him, and he, Mr.
Smith, looked terrified and astonished. I took up one of the bottles
and asked what it had contained. His reply: "Hop Tea." I asked:
"What name is that on the label?" It was "Anheuser-Busch," but I could
get neither of them to pronounce it. I turned up one of the bottles and
put it to my lips and told them that it was beer, and that I could take an
oath that it was. Grogan threw up his hands saying: "Now, Mother
Nation, if you get me into trouble I will do something desperate." I
had visited this man Grogan in jail about a year before this, where
he was put for getting drunk and fighting. I said: "I do not wish
to get either of you in trouble, but want to get you out." I had my Bible
with me and I opened it to several passages where drink was condemned,
and told them where it would lead. I told them I would not speak of this
to anyone. When I said I would not "tell on them" the look of gladness
on their faces was pitiful to see.
I said, I am going to pray God to have mercy on you. Kneel down,
like two obedient little children--they knelt--some may smile at this,
but I was deeply affected and felt a compassion and tenderness toward
these poor men, whom the devil was leading captive at his will. That
prayer I offered, was heard.
In one week from that time this man Grogan came to my house; one
Sunday morning, and fell down at my feet crying and wringing his hands,
saying: "Oh! Mrs. Nation I am going to hell, but it is not your fault and
I came to ask you to pray for me." He was in great agony of soul.
He had been drinking until he was almost crazy. He left in about half
an hour, saying he "was going to hell," but I told him, no; to have faith
in God and He would save him.
This was the last I saw of him, but I heard afterwards that he had
a small store in Wichita and was living in the rear of it with his family.