The Night before Doomsday BY J O H N FARNSWORTH LUND TWEBfCRN j UNION 1
Salt Lake City's Main Street, 1916, when new street lights were turned on, must have looked much the same a year later on the night before Prohibition, exceptfor the thousands of imbibers missing in this photograph. USHS collections.
Martin apartment on First Avenue near Brigham Young's grave in Salt Lake. Mrs. Martin held a shredded handkerchief to puffed, red eyes. I didn't know until much later that her shiny hands with red palms, tissue-soft and cold, and the rosy cheeks, which looked as if they were rouged for a party, were the badges of an alcoholic. They were called "brandy blossoms." Nor did I understand the row upon row of bottled whisky, beer, and wine stacked in the kitchen cupboard. Mr. Martin spent most of his life in bed in a dark room off the kitchen. I T WAS A SAD EVENING AT THE
Mr. Lund is a retired businessman living in Salt Lake City.
