Ed Helms

Most people in the 1920s didn't want prohibition. Sure, maybe they knew alcohol could hurt people, but they also had a sense that banning it outright was probably not the most sensible solution.

Most people in the 1920s didn't want prohibition. Sure, maybe they knew alcohol could hurt people, but they also had a sense that banning it outright was probably not the most sensible solution.

Well said, Paul. Let me reiterate that. Law is not how you change people's minds. I mean, think about the prohibitions we still live with today. Bans on abortion, bans on weed. We've only just overturned the ban on gay marriage.

Well said, Paul. Let me reiterate that. Law is not how you change people's minds. I mean, think about the prohibitions we still live with today. Bans on abortion, bans on weed. We've only just overturned the ban on gay marriage.

Since the 1920s, when the temperance movement played on racist fears and gave guns to domestic terrorists, it feels like we've been caught in one culture war after another. When lobbyists get those issues written into law, we end up enforcing moral codes with some kind of kindergarten justice. But setting off a culture war is like taking a jackhammer to the foundations of your own house.

Since the 1920s, when the temperance movement played on racist fears and gave guns to domestic terrorists, it feels like we've been caught in one culture war after another. When lobbyists get those issues written into law, we end up enforcing moral codes with some kind of kindergarten justice. But setting off a culture war is like taking a jackhammer to the foundations of your own house.

It just might bring your entire home crashing down around you.

It just might bring your entire home crashing down around you.

November 1933, New York City. The Waldorf Astoria is putting the finishing touches on three new bars. One of them, with blue and gold columns and a mirrored ceiling, is the jewel of the city. The Hotel New Yorker has purchased $100,000 worth of top shelf whiskey and is building out a new basement wine cellar to house the world's finest wines. All anyone knew anymore was bathtub gin.

November 1933, New York City. The Waldorf Astoria is putting the finishing touches on three new bars. One of them, with blue and gold columns and a mirrored ceiling, is the jewel of the city. The Hotel New Yorker has purchased $100,000 worth of top shelf whiskey and is building out a new basement wine cellar to house the world's finest wines. All anyone knew anymore was bathtub gin.

The waiters at Lewis Sherry's on Park Avenue relearn the appropriate wines for each course. A hearty Barolo with your steak. Maybe a Chardonnay with your chicken cordon bleu. Requests for liquor licenses filed at New York City Hall are coming in at a rate of 1,000 a day. At Bloomingdale's on the Upper East Side, the line snakes out the door and around the corner.

The waiters at Lewis Sherry's on Park Avenue relearn the appropriate wines for each course. A hearty Barolo with your steak. Maybe a Chardonnay with your chicken cordon bleu. Requests for liquor licenses filed at New York City Hall are coming in at a rate of 1,000 a day. At Bloomingdale's on the Upper East Side, the line snakes out the door and around the corner.

Customers waiting for doors to open so they can snatch up bottles of imported scotch and wine. As for Charles Norris, well, the end of Prohibition is in sight, but he's still got plenty of work to do. He travels through New York, the waterfront, the Bowery, collecting data and writing down his observations for his annual report. The city is still far from perfect.

Customers waiting for doors to open so they can snatch up bottles of imported scotch and wine. As for Charles Norris, well, the end of Prohibition is in sight, but he's still got plenty of work to do. He travels through New York, the waterfront, the Bowery, collecting data and writing down his observations for his annual report. The city is still far from perfect.

The Great Depression now brings its own litany of suffering to the people around him. But the destructive wake of prohibition is finally dissipating. As he passes the Gothic edifice of Bellevue, it's hard not to remember the worst days of the poisonings, when the hospital was surrounded by bodies.

The Great Depression now brings its own litany of suffering to the people around him. But the destructive wake of prohibition is finally dissipating. As he passes the Gothic edifice of Bellevue, it's hard not to remember the worst days of the poisonings, when the hospital was surrounded by bodies.

That was the thick of Prohibition. But now, the piers are clear.

That was the thick of Prohibition. But now, the piers are clear.

1933. Utah becomes the 36th state to ratify the 21st Amendment. That seals it. Prohibition is overturned. In New York, Bellevue Hospital makes an announcement, to little fanfare. The formation of a new department, Forensic Medicine. It's the first of its kind in the country. The head of the department will be Charles Norris, and the head of toxicology, Alexander Gettler.

1933. Utah becomes the 36th state to ratify the 21st Amendment. That seals it. Prohibition is overturned. In New York, Bellevue Hospital makes an announcement, to little fanfare. The formation of a new department, Forensic Medicine. It's the first of its kind in the country. The head of the department will be Charles Norris, and the head of toxicology, Alexander Gettler.