(Tribune News Service) — Prohibition only lasted 17 years in Virginia, but 90 years after it ended, its impact is still felt in Hampton in unexpected ways.

The nationwide ban on the manufacture, transportation and sale of alcohol came early to Virginia, three years before the passage of the 18th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution — still the only amendment ever repealed, with the 21st Amendment in 1933.

There’s still a sense of relief from some, like the local breweries that will join the Hampton History Museum on Saturday, June 24, for a tasting event called “Prohibition Legacies: Taste of Summer.”

St. George Brewing, Oozlefinch Beers & Blending, and The Vanguard Brewpub & Distillery will present their latest offerings. Museum admission — including to the exhibit “Teetotalers and Moonshiners, and Hampton’s Prohibition Story,” which runs through Feb. 4 — is free.

But in a much more surprising twist, without Prohibition and the economic pressure it created, Langley Air Force Base might not exist, historical sources show.

Booze has always been big business in Hampton. When Virginia banned the possession of alcohol at midnight after Halloween 1916, dozens lost their livelihoods and moved away. Real estate values tumbled, especially in Phoebus (which merged into Hampton along with the rest of Elizabeth City County in 1952).

Many localities in the state used the “local option” to close down alcohol peddlers as early as 1909, but Hampton was a lot more reluctant, according to the exhibit’s co-curators, historians Beth Austin and Willow Pell. The exhibit was inspired partly by a Prohibition project from the Library of Virginia.

“We realized that the Hampton Prohibition story was quite different from the state story that the library was telling,” Austin said.

While other local governments pushed to end alcohol consumption, Hampton had to be forced, she said. The tourism industry, the military presence at Fort Monroe, and the proximity to water (and the alcohol trade it allowed) all contributed to making Hampton one of the “wettest” spots in the state.

In fact, there were more saloons per capita in Phoebus than almost anywhere else in the country, according to Tim Receveur, the author of “Good and Drunk,” a book that describes Phoebus as the “Wild West” of the Eastern Seaboard.

While Receveur describes himself as more of a hobbyist than a historian, he learned of the connection between Prohibition and Langley Air Force Base while researching.

A conversation with museum curator Allen Hoilman about what happened to the area’s saloon owners who’d gone out of business was a major impetus for Receveur’s book and sparked the idea of a possible connection to the federal government’s purchase of Langley Field in 1916.

Receveur’s research found that two of the three people who campaigned for Hampton to be the site of a new proposed airfield were former saloon owners. In a Richmond Times-Dispatch article from 1935, one of those men, Harry H. Holt — the former proprietor of the Chesapeake Hotel in Phoebus — made the connection explicit.

“With a population of only around 5,000, Elizabeth City County had an abnormal number of its citizens receiving their livelihood from the liquor industry,” the article quotes Holt as saying. “The cutting off of this source of support seemed certain to doom our community.”

Pre-Prohibition restrictions had already caused the number of saloons to dwindle. In 1907, Phoebus had 27 saloons and Hampton had 12; by 1916, there were 15 in Phoebus and just five in Hampton.

Knowing that Congress had passed an appropriation of $300,000 to establish an experimental aviation center, the thought came to Holt — why not bring it to Hampton?

Together with H.R. Booker and Nelson S. Groome, the former owner of Clarke’s Palace Hotel in Phoebus, Holt sought purchase options on half a dozen properties that together could meet the government’s requirements. With just 60 days to close the deal, the men quietly lobbied the committee in charge of selecting the site. They feared that some other, better-funded locality would hear about their efforts and snatch the opportunity away.

They succeeded, and the construction, jobs and other commerce generated by the field — which became Langley Air Force Base in 1948 — has been a major factor in Hampton’s economy ever since.

The success of that venture didn’t diminish the area’s appetite for alcohol, the historians said.

Sarcastic newspaper headlines like “Phoebus A Model Town First Month of Prohibition” in the Daily Press called out officials for not levying fines and making arrests. Bootlegging, the illegal trade in alcohol (whether the booze was tucked in a boot, concealed in a false automobile compartment or dispensed through a soda fountain), was an open secret for years, with one 1922 Daily Press article quoting a comment made at a Phoebus Town Council meeting that alcohol use was higher than “when the city was wet.”

Early in 1922, Phoebus’ mayor, its chief of police (a former saloon proprietor), and a police officer were indicted on charges that they had accepted bribes. The consensus is that they were probably guilty, according to the historians, but they were acquitted that year.

There are few records of raids or fines. One rare photo of a confiscated still from April 1922 was clearly staged, Pell said, and comes from the collection of a portrait photographer from the time, suggesting it may have been more of a photo op than a reflection of justice served.

Austin and Pell said one thing that stood out in their research was the explicit and public racism of the time.

Black business owners had built a strong presence in the area by the dawn of the 20th century and held leadership positions on town councils. After 1900, though, increasing opposition from town leaders — many of whom were saloon owners — pushed them out of politics and out of business.

The brunt of pre-Prohibition restrictions fell on Black-owned businesses, which received disproportionate numbers of fines and license revocations or non-renewals, according to the exhibit. One article from April 24, 1915, listed 32 liquor licenses granted but stated that no licenses were allowed in the Black neighborhood of Sugar Hill or at Bay Shore, the “colored resort.”

“There were no applicants for licenses in these sections, but it was generally understood that the court would refuse them if such an application was made,” the article said.

Phoebus didn’t revert to its Wild West days, and none of the pre-Prohibition saloons still stands, though Fuller’s Raw Bar is named in homage to one of them. But Hampton, and especially Phoebus, are once again watering holes for tourists, locals and, of course, members of the military. The historic Mellon and Mallory Street business district is home to popular restaurants, bars and many thriving Black-owned businesses, including 1865 Brewing Co., the first Black-owned brewery in Hampton Roads in living memory.

Prohibition ended on Dec. 5, 1933, when Utah, the last holdout, voted for repeal just after 3:30 p.m. local time, or about 5:30 p.m. in Hampton.

This time, no one waited for midnight.

If you go

When: Noon to 2 p.m. June 24.

Where: Hampton History Museum, 120 Old Hampton Lane.

Admission: Free, but registration is required. Limit 150 guests.

Details: 757-727-1102.

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