The Gilded Secret Beneath the Farmland
From Macoupin County Mines to Chicago’s High Society
When people think of the Prohibition era, they usually picture the same thing: Al Capone, beaded flapper dresses, and the sharp, geometric lines of an Art Deco speakeasy. They see the glamour. But living here in the Gillespie-Benld area, we know a different side of that story. We know that the glamour had to be fueled from somewhere.
A Factory Disguised as a Mine
Most of our landscape is defined by two things: sprawling, flat farmland and the remnants of the coal industry that lived beneath it. It’s not a place of "quiet hills";, it’s a place of industrial grit.
During the height of Prohibition, just east of Benld, IL, the No. 5 Mine sat as a perfect monument to local ingenuity. To any passing federal agent, it looked like a standard coal tipple. In reality, it was a dominant underground distillery. This wasn't a small-time operation; it was an industrial powerhouse churning out 2,000 gallons of spirits every single day, right under the feet of unsuspecting onlookers.
The Road to the City
That liquor didn't stay in the county. It was loaded up and moved north along Route 66, the literal artery that connected the small-town production to Chicago’s elite nightlife.
There is a striking irony in that journey. The "liquid gold" was born in the shadows of a dusty mine and ended up being poured into crystal-clear glassware in rooms filled with jazz and gold leaf. One couldn't exist without the other. The city had the style, but the small town had the secret.
A Personal Full Circle
For me, this history feels personal. My first job was with Owens-Illinois, a giant in the world of glassware. In my hometown, Alton, IL, they manufactured bottles for beer and spirits. Working in the factory, it gave me an appreciation for glassware; the heat, the mold, and the precision required to create something functional.
Now, living in Gillespie with a business specializing in glassware for modern speakeasy venues, I find myself standing right in the middle of that historic bridge. I’ve gone from the industrial side of the glass to the artistic side, much like the liquor that once traveled from our local mines to the high-end bars of the 1920s.
Why the History Matters
We often talk about the "glamour" of the past as if it were magic. But the truth is more interesting: it was work. It was miners and farmers using the tools they had to survive and thrive.
Today, when I look at one of our stemless wine glasses with an intricate Art Deco pattern, I don't just see a pretty object. I see the culmination of a journey.
Someone had to make the liquor, and someone had to craft the glass.
