By John Panella and Joe Widman
GLADSTONE’S CELERY AND PEPSIN COMPOUND Was it a panacea, booze or medicine? The quicker pickerupper — an infallible boost for daily living. It took a while to pick out a topic for this month’s column after finishing the Fahrney piece with Phil Edmonds. I wore out three pairs of sneakers walking the roads through “Fahrney Country” from our last column. Jacob Fahrney and his family were prolific, and encompassed an entangled web of history, culture, patent medicine and medical quackery. Confusing at times, the article was the type of inspiring piece of work and education that we bottle enthusiasts crave. This month, I’m trying to keep it simple yet incorporate breakthrough new facts and conversation about another classic nostrum of the past, Gladstone’s Celery and Pepsin Compound. Many states were required to not sell it in apothecary druggist stock due its alcoholic content. It sold in saloons and liquor stores! Top shelf, in promotional label-under-glass back bar bottles in engraved dispensing displays. Make no doubt about it, it carried a wallop, was a quick cure, sometimes toxic, but usually a slow, satisfying but later agonizing poison. It was very popular! Funny how we seem to always gravitate to a “forbidden fruit.” It offered cheap thrills and safety from hangover. Prohibitionists had their doubts, but sly business management teams kept it in production long enough to create an empire. It was a money-making machine and created a new progeny of toadstool millionaires. TOP: Label on reverse side of Gladstone bottle. BOTTOM: Celery and Pepsin Compound ad.
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Antique Bottle & Glass Collector
