Despite temperance movements and federal Prohibition—or maybe because of them—Hoboken has long been known for its drinking establishments. In the 1850s, when German immigrants began to arrive in the city, they declared that drinking beer and wine was part of their way of life. Many German men became bar keepers or saloon owners; they established beer gardens, and looked upon Sunday not as a day for somber reflection in church but as a day reserved for the cultural activities of their homeland, including picnics with flowing beer and wine. They unequivocally opposed restrictions on the Sunday sale of alcohol, promoted by the temperance movement. Calls for curtailing alcohol consumption went nowhere: by 1855, Hoboken had 81 lager saloons and 53 wine and liquor stores, most owned by Germans.
Liquor dealers would begin to organize in the early 1900s, to fend off threats: the taxation of beer and whiskey, the selling of liquor at retail by new department stores, and, always, temperance movement activists. The Liquor Dealers’ Protective League of New Jersey held conventions in the Avenue’s Odd Fellows’ Hall, then partied at the Quartett Club.
The goal of the Protective League was to keep Hoboken “wet.” But when the city was declared the port of embarkation for doughboys sent to Europe during the First World War, and the piers were seized, mile-square Hoboken became the first to experience a ban on alcohol, as the sale of booze within a half mile of the federally controlled piers was prohibited by presidential proclamation. Washington Street largely became a dry zone.
But that condition did not last long—once the war ended, Hoboken never went back, not even during Prohibition. In 1925, five years into Prohibition, more than 60 Hoboken saloons were so bold as to list themselves in the city directory, even though the town was meant to be dry.
Strangely, in November 1934, when Prohibition had already ended, the proprietor of the Brass Rail at 135 Washington Street, German born Fred Roemer, was arrested for running an unlawful liquor factory out of the rear of his bar. But the arrest, and seizure of equipment and many cases of questionable booze, did not close the tavern. The Brass Rail is still in operation today.
Saloons also made alcohol available to customers who preferred to drink outside their premises, maybe at a picnic or at home. In the 1880s, German-born saloon owner Hans Krause, of Krause Liquors, 76 Washington Street, sold his stoneware jugs to customers, filled them with spirits, then refilled them (and refilled them) on their return. The Kahn brothers liquor dealers, second generation German Americans, did the same at 837 Washington Street.
During the same period, there were few Irish immigrant saloon keepers in Hoboken, and in early years of the twentieth century, few taverns owned by Italians. Ownership by both—or by second generation Irish and Italian Americans—would come later.