1930 November New York
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The sky was the sort people call crystal-clear. The town was illuminated by the transparent light of the morning sun.
Buildings of red and yellow brick were packed together as though they were trying to cover the entire city in color. That said, the people who walked in their midst didn’t feel crowded by them.
In fact, the automobiles that had begun to make their presence felt in recent years pressed the pedestrians much harder.
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The time was Prohibition. All sorts of social currents had converged, and the country had elected to become a “dry society.” Consequently, though, the appeal of liquor had actually increased, and even those who hadn’t previously indulged began frequenting illegal taverns. …In other words, ironically, the result had been the creation of more criminals.
A general store stocked grape juice on its shelves, accompanied by a written warning:
If you let this sit for a while, it will ferment and turn into wine. Drink it before that happens.
This grape juice practically flew off the shelves. It was that kind of era.
The Jazz Age had passed its peak, and the previous year, the Great Depression had gripped America. The redbrick buildings that filled the city seemed somehow faded.
Still, in the shadows of the city, there were “protagonists” who had the power to resist the Depression. In general, they were lumped together as “the Mafia,” and they had acquired vast power using the sale of bootleg liquor as a foothold.
In other words, the government’s Prohibition policy had become a perfect hotbed, helping them—the enemies of the law—to rapidly advance in society.
All sorts of legends, great and small, sprang up among them, with Al Capone and Lucky Luciano topping the list. That was what 1930 was like.