Pubdate: Sat, 05 Nov 2005
Source: Rocky Mountain News (Denver, CO)
Copyright: 2005, Denver Publishing Co.
Contact:  http://www.rockymountainnews.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/371
Author: James B. Meadow

POT CONSIDERED 'MURDER WEED' IN 1937

Offenders Got More Than Token Citations In Denver

On Oct. 2, 1937, in the somewhat shady Lexington Apartments at 1200 
California St. in Denver, Samuel R. Caldwell became the first person 
in the United States to be arrested on a marijuana charge. Caldwell, 
a 58-year-old unemployed laborer moonlighting as a dealer, was nailed 
by the FBI and Denver police for peddling two marijuana cigarettes to 
one Moses Baca, 26.

If you're wondering why it took the U.S. government so long to bust a 
pot dealer, it's because until the Marijuana Stamp Act was passed - 
on you guessed it, Oct. 2, 1937 - cannabis wasn't illegal. Certainly, 
it had been vilified in newspapers with headlines such as "Murder 
Weed Found Up and Down Coast: Deadly Marijuana Plant Ready for 
Harvest That Means Enslavement of California Children."

Neither was it deemed as some benign recreational drug by the 
nation's law enforcement hierarchy.

Harry J. Anslinger, for example, commissioner of the Federal Bureau 
of Narcotics, was a vociferous foe of cannabis. In his book, Assassin 
of Youth, he labeled marijuana "dangerous as a coiled rattlesnake," 
and anguished, "How many murders, suicides, robberies, criminal 
assaults, holdups, burglaries, and deeds of maniacal insanity it 
causes each year, especially among the young, can be only conjectured."

Indeed. Texas cops insisted that because it fueled a "lust for blood" 
and imbued its imbibers with "superhuman strength," pot was the 
catalyst for unspeakably violent crimes.

Anslinger and many others would have dismissed the possibility that, 
68 years later, Denver's law-abiding citizens would vote to 
decriminalize the possession of an ounce-or-less of marijuana as 
nothing more than a pipe dream.

Much more real was the racism that anchored some of the original 
hysteria surrounding cannabis. At least that's a contention of John 
C. McWilliams, a professor of history at Penn State University 
specializing in 20th century social-political American history and 
drug policy, who has written a book on Anslinger.

"Marijuana was associated with black jazz musicians and Mexicans in 
border towns - clearly racist stuff," said McWilliams, who says 
Anslinger's files are chock full of letters linking marijuana and minorities.

In fact, he cites part of a 1936 correspondence from Floyd Baskett, 
editor of the Daily Courier in Alamosa.

"I wish I could show you what a small marijuana cigarette does to one 
of our degenerate, Spanish-speaking residents," Baskett wrote to Anslinger.

Certainly District Judge J. Foster Symes didn't need convincing about 
the nefarious effects of the "murder weed." In a dizzying swirl of 
law enforcement, Caldwell and Baca were busted on a Wednesday night, 
indicted on Thursday (they pleaded guilty) and sentenced on Friday.

"I consider marijuana the worst of all narcotics, far worse than the 
use of morphine or cocaine," thundered Symes from the bench. "Under 
its influence, men become beasts, just as was the case with Moses Baca . . .

"Marijuana destroys life itself. I have no sympathy with those who 
sell this weed. I will impose the heaviest penalties. The government 
is going to enforce this new law to the letter."

Then Symes backed up his tough talk by sentencing Caldwell to four 
years' hard labor at Kansas' mighty Leavenworth Prison.

And just to show Caldwell he was no softy, Symes tacked on the 
astronomical fine of $1,000.

However, Baca, beast though he may have become, got off relatively 
easy. Maybe Symes' wrath had been sated somewhat: he sentenced the 
married father of three to a mere 18 months in prison.

And if you're thinking there was any plea bargaining or reduced time 
for good behavior, both men served every single day of their 
sentence. Although history is unclear about what happened to Baca, 
Caldwell died a year after he was released from prison.

So great was the government's indignation over marijuana that it 
didn't seem to matter that, as McWilliams points out, "Marijuana is 
not even a narcotic."

And so, today, as proponents of Denver's Initiative 100 celebrate, it 
seems only fitting that they should perhaps pause, take a deep 
breath, and reflect upon the sad saga of Sam Caldwell. 
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MAP posted-by: Beth Wehrman