. . . According to Inside Detective Magazine

The following article made it's way unto the pages of "Inside Detective Magazine" (Nov. 1937) and as such is supposed to be a first hand account at what happened.   Needless to say there are those who would question the validity of the story, and even go so far as to describe it as a TOTAL WORK OF FICTION.   Here, we will leave it up to the reader to determine whether or not this is a work of fiction or as the article states;  “The uncensored truth about the sinister weed that threatens young America.”   Either way, it does make for fun reading.   An extremely good example of what was happening during the Reefer Madness era.

[Note some transcriber’s errors are very possible – for historical reference, please refer to the actual article]

Corn Field
Rudby Sanchez
Jose Martinez

Corn Field

The uncensored truth about the sinister weed that threatens young America

THE SMOKE lies heavy and blue in the dim light of the apartment.   It has a waspishly bitter odor, yet cloys with the sickly sweetness of oriental incense.   Voices are low, and talk is broken by occasional long sucking drags on crumpled cigarettes.

Then laughter, high and feminine and semi-hysterical, breaks the foggy monotony as a slim-limbed girl feels the marihuana-inspired urge for thrills, excitement---men.   Clothes are torn off with the urgency of unleashed desire spurred by the amorous stimulation of the weed . . .

The scene may be the aftermath of a high school prom.   It may be a fetid cellar in Harlem, or a glossy tower apartment in Manhattan.   For marihuana---devil’s drug---is sweeping the nation, and finds its easiest prey among innocent youth seeking a “thrill”.

Marihuana is a weed, and weeds are hard to stomp out.   It has been popularized by jazz musicians who find in it a hectic inspiration for "hot" choruses.   Such songs as "Reefer Man", "Muggles'" and "Willie the Weeper" have as their theme the effects of the dope---and all America listens.

What is this insidious menace that finds victims in high and low estate, among young and old? What gives it its satanic power to drive the user berserk with joy, with lust, with violence? What is being done by law-enforcement officers to fight this new threat to common decency?

INSIDE DETECTIVE herewith presents the facts about that weed of debauchery, marihuana.   -- THE EDITORS.

ACTUALLY, marihuana is the most vicious, SOUL-destroying narcotic known.   Unlike opium and its derivatives.   morphine, cocaine and heroin, which require special equipment for refining, marihuana--common, everyday hemp--grows everywhere.   As soon as it is dried it is ready to wreak its havoc, destroying all restraint and moral inhibitions.

The things marihuana can do to a decent, upstanding person are well-nigh incredible.   According to H. J. Ansllnger, U. S. Commissioner of Narcotics, the use of this narcotic which grows in back yards and even window boxes is "the quickest, surest road to insanity."

Many of the most depraved crimes on record are traceable to marihuana.   It affects the higher nerve centers of the brain, overcomes all reason and turns the user into a raving maniac --- a slavering pervert with a lust to kill.

Narcotic officers in those states where the use of marihuana is most widespread, report that police in the principal cities estimate at least fifty percent of the violent crimes committed by Mexicans, Filipinos, Latin-Americans and Negroes are traceable to the use of this weed.

The underworld has been quick to adopt this potent drug since opium, cocaine, morphine and heroin have become so difficult to obtain.   According to a prosecuting attorney in Louisiana, gangland is now using marihuana to subjugate the will of its underlings.   Police officials declare that immediately before undertaking a crime, many criminals now smoke a few marihuana cigarettes to sweep aside fear and to build up the false courage they need.

Not infrequently, the defense in court is that at the time of committing a crime the defendant was under the influence of marihuana to such a degree that he was unable to know the difference between right and wrong, and therefore was legally insane at the time of commission.

In Baltimore, recently, one of the most striking of these pleas was offered by Augusto Perez, a twenty-two-year-old Porto Rican known as a marihuana peddler and addict.   Perez had criminally attacked a twelve-year-old girl.   When arraigned he pleaded that he had smoked nearly a dozen marihuana cigarettes, and upon meeting the child was unable to restrain himself.

The court refused to entertain his plea.   He was convicted and hanged in the Maryland Penitentiary on June 12, 1936.

Here are but a few examples of ghastly violence inspired by the drug:

In Eureka, California, an addict under the influence of marihuana decapitated his best friend.   Coming out of his drugged condition, he was horrified at what he had done.

A Denver policeman entered a restaurant to get a cup of coffee.   An addict named Holloway followed and attacked him.   The officer beat his assailant unconscious with his club.   Some time later.   Holloway ran amuck, attempted to shoot his wife, missed her and mortally wounded her grandmother.   Police and Holloway shot it out for more than an hour.   Then the addict turned his gun on himself, dying almost instantly.

A A recent one-man riot in the Michigan State Prison at Marquette, staged by a prisoner named.   Tylczak.   was due to marihuana and firearms smuggled into the prison.   When the smoke from the gun of the marihuana-crazed prisoner cleared, the kindly prison doctor lay dead.   Beside him was the body of a trusty who gave his life trying to protect his doctor friend.   The gun, ammunition and marihuana had entered the prison in false bottoms of herring buckets.

Shortly after Florida enacted the Uniform Narcotic Law, Victor Licata, a Tampa youth addicted to marihuana, while under its influence, suffered from the hallucination that enemies were trying to cut off his arms and legs.   Seizing an axe, he attacked his father, mother, two brothers and a sister, killing them all and wiping out the entire family except himself, Tampa was horrified.

The reactions of a beginner are shown in this stenographic copy of a report from the police of Atlanta, Georgia, who found a youth wandering about the streets, barefooted:
"While walking up around the curb market in Atlanta, I passed the stand of the hot tamale man, who asked me: "'Do you want any hot tamales f'

"I said: 'Don't you -have anything stronger?'

"He said: 'Yes,' and sold me two marihuana cigarettes for twenty-five cents, I had never seen this kind of a cigarette before.   I smoked one of them and it gave me a headache.   Then I smoked the other one and began to feel it.   My mind changed in a queer sort of way.   I craved some more of the cigarettes, and, not having any money, I pawned my shoes for one dollar 'and bought a hag of dried leaves to roll my own.

"After a couple more cigarettes, I began to feel like I was on top of the world.   I would walk up to anyone and ask them for anything without any hesitancy.   Then I felt like I would do something desperate.

"However, I was very tired and fell asleep.   I stayed asleep for two whole days and nights."
While .the effects of the drug definitely are narcotic in nature, marihuana is habitually taken for the stimulating effect obtained and the individual satisfaction experienced through the temporary inflation of the personality.   No evidence exists that the drug is cumulative in its effect or that a tolerance may be developed through its continued use.   Said commissioner Anslinger:

"Those habitually accustomed to marihuana frequently develop a delirious rage after its administration, during which they are temporarily, at least, irresponsible and liable to commit violent crimes.   The prolonged use of marihuana produces mental deterioration and eventually insanity.   The sudden discontinuance of its use, however, has not been found to give rise to 'withdrawal' symptoms such as are evident in opium addiction"

"The drug's first line of attack is our youth-school children, who are urged to try 'just a couple for a thrill.' This is the most serious' side of the traffic, for boys' and girls of the high school and college age--even those in the junior high schools---are most susceptible to the peddler aided by one or two pupils who dare the others to 'be a sport and try them.'

"Soon the peddler invites these to a 'reefer' party, where, after a few cigarettes, all sense of decency and proper conduct is lost under the influence of the drug.   And, because of this, I make this appeal to every man, woman and child in the United States:

"If you know a marihuana smoker; if you know where reefer parties are held: if you have any reason to suspect someone of selling marihuana, report it to your local police.   If you don't want to be known in the case, tell the Federal Narcotic Bureau in your city.   The agents will withhold your name.   But report it at once.

"The marihuana curse is spreading over the country like wildfire."

KNOWN as Cannabis Sativa, Indian hemp and" Cannabis Americana, marihuana is deadly under any name.   The American variety is identical with Cannabis Indica, which actually is the hashish of the Orient, where it is used extensively.

Its effect are similar.   One of the results of smoking is the complete collapse of the sense of time in the user.   A second becomes a minute, a minute becomes an hour.

This is claimed by some jazz musicians as the reason for their addiction.   With time so expanded, they vow that they can work out more intricate choruses at apparent leisure while really playing at top speed.

Marihuana is found as a roadside weed in practically every state.   Therefore it is most difficult to control" especially because of the lack of adequate laws.   Unlike other narcotics, no federal law governs it.   It does not come within the class of drugs specified in the Harrison Drug Act, because when this law was passed, the use of marihuana was practically unknown.   Now that the supply of other narcotics has been checked, marihuana is taking their place as a stimulus for depravity.

Since the days of the Pilgrim Fathers, Indian hemp has been grown in this country for commercial purposes --- for making rope, cloth and hats---with never a suspicion of its sinister power.   It is believed that its use as a narcotic was first introduced about ten years ago by Mexicans who saw in it an opportunity to supply a potent drug not covered by the Harrison Drug Act ---a drug which would give the addict everything obtainable from opium derivatives at a far lower price.

It is a strange fact that in the states where Indian hemp is grown for commercial purposes, the use of the weed as a narcotic is almost unknown.

The control of marihuana is entirely in the hands of each individual state.   In order to aid in its suppression, the Federal Narcotic Bureau has prepared a Uniform State Narcotic Law which has been passed by nearly all of the states.   The District of Columbia, however, has no law controlling its growth, sale or use.   For some reason, the lawmakers on Capitol Hill never find time to enact this much-needed measure for the nation's capital, hence the sale and use or the weed within the district is extensive.   Violators are prosecuted under the archaic law covering the improper labeling of poisons, and get off with a light fine.

Secretary of State Cordell Hull, in a recent communication to the League of Nations, classed this growing marihuana evil as one of America’s major police problems.

A recent example of state co-operation under the Uniform State Narcotic Law enacted in Maryland, occurred in Baltimore.

Sergeant Morris Smith and Patrolman Joseph Hickman of the Northwestern Police District were on their way to meet Lieutenant Oscar Koch at Druid Hill Avenue and Biddle Street, about eight P.M., October 1, 1936.   In the 1900 block on Druid Hill Avenue, Sergeant Smith suddenly stopped and sniffed the air, laden with a heavy, nauseating odor.

"What's that smell?" he asked.   Patrolman Hickman did not know.

Farther down the block the odor was stronger, It seemed to come from a shuttered house in front of' which the officers now stood.

"Who lives there?" asked the sergeant.

"Don't know much about him.   He moved in a couple weeks ago," Hickman answered.   "He might be a Mexican.   His name is Ruby Sanchez."

Lieutenant Koch heard the officers' story and returned with them.   Neighbors---all Negroes---thought the occupant, a Mexican, might he an herb doctor; they frequently saw him at night unloading a truck.

The Northwestern .district of Baltimore has a large Negro population, occupying homes formerly the show places of the city --- homes of the elite a generation ago.   Negro night clubs, restaurants, cafes, theaters and dance halls abound, especially along Pennsylvania Avenue, familiarly known as “Negro Broadway.” This district is comparable on a smaller scale with New York’s Harlem.

For months the police had been troubled with marihuana-crazed Negroes.   A number of peddlers have been apprehended, yet the use of marihuana seemed to be increasing.   The authorities were positive that somewhere close by was the source of supply --- but where?

Now came something that clicked.

The Mexican! Lieutenant Koch recalled that many Mexicans were marihuana smokers and frequently peddlers.   The odors, the herb doctor frequently unloading a truck at night. . .. What better cover could a peddler want?

Neighbors thought the "doctor" was out of town, for he had carried two suitcases out of the house about two o'clock that afternoon, and had gotten into a taxi.

Shortly after five o'clock the next afternoon, Patrolman Hickman saw a man enter the house and called the police station.   Lieutenant Koch and Sergeants Smith and Alfred Plitt hurriedly joined him.

Sergeant Plitt and Patrolman Hickman took up positions in the rear" of the house.   The others knocked at the front door.

Ruby Sanchez himself answered.
“Wada you wan'?" he growled
"Where'" that still?" demanded the lieutenant.

"Noa still here," retorted the Mexican, trying to slam the door.

"Not so fast!" snapped the lieutenant, pressing his foot between the door and the frame.

"You noa come in," shrieked the man as the officers lunged forward.   Then, realizing he could not hold the door, Sanchez grabbed a chair and braced it.   But the combined weight of the officers collapsed the chair, and Sanchez fled out the rear door, hurdled the fence --- and landed in the arms of Sergeant Plitt and Patrolman Hickman waiting in the alley.

Entering the back of the house with their prisoner, they met the lieutenant and sergeant coming from the front.   The strong sickening odor noticed the night before filled the house.   In the middle room on the first floor, hundreds of pounds of green marihuana were drying on poles and, lines stretched one above the other from wall to wall.   From this came' the pungent smell.

More than a dozen big bags of dried and ground marihuana, ready for out of town shipment, were in the front room.   Each bag weighed more than fifty pounds.

Upstairs was the packing plant for local buyers of bulk goods.   Arranged in neat rows were hundreds of half-pounds of ground and dried weed in heavy manila bags, sealed with gummed tape.   No cigarettes were found.   Only bulk goods was handled here.   In the cellar was more of the weed.

THE OFFICERS were elated.   They felt certain they had found the supply depot for Baltimore, but they had no idea that within twenty-four hours they would be the principals in the greatest marihuana raid in the history of the United States.

With their prisoner between them, Lieutenant Kock and Sergeant smith started for the call box.   Plitt and Hickman remained to guard the house until the federal agents arrived. “Boy, you’re on a spot now,” Kock told Sanchez.   “You’re going where the moths won’t bite.’

“Me noa go anywhere; me all right,” Sanchez mumbles.
“Yeah? Well, the big shot won’t take care of you this time,” said the officer, shooting at the moon.

“No? Well you see.   Soon me be out.   You noa can hold me,” boasted the prisoner.

“Is that so?” mused the lieutenant? Then, addressing Sergeant smith: “Perhaps he’s right.   Think we ought to call on the big shot and hear what he has to say?”

“Why not? Then we’ll be sure of what we’re doing,” agreed the sergeant.   “Big shot’s got a pull at headquarters and we don’t want to lose our jobs.   Sanchez, do you think we might lose our jobs if we lock you up?”

“Sanchez noa say, but hesa know what happen when you lock heem up.   Itsa gooda-by you.   Big shot, he tell me so.” “Look here, Sanchez,” said Sergeant Smith feigning deep anxiety and waxing confidential.   “We can’t afford to lose our jobs.   Lieutenant, let’s see the big shot and ask him.   If he says so we’ll let the boy here go.”
“All right,” agreed the lieutenant.   “Let’s go, Sanchez.”

Beaming all over at the “fear” shown by the officers, Sanchez led the way across town to a house on Proctor Street, half a mile distant.

“Now you see,” he grinned, climbing the steps and opening the door.   Kock had released his hold on the prisoner, but followed closed behind.

“Jose, Jose,” shouted Sanchez, going down the hall.   “Where you at? Come here queeck, Jose!”

In the long, dark hall, the officers remained close to their excited prisoner.

“What you wan’? a sleepy voice answered from a room just off the hall.

"Come here and tella these fellas who I am"

Footsteps shuffled across the floor.   A door about three feet ahead of the officers opened.   Sergeant Smith's flashlight swept a stocky figure, then settled on the swarthy face of a puzzled Mexican.

"So this is the big shot," said the lieutenant.   "Sure, hesa the guy.   Hesa name Martinez, .lose, tella these cops I'm all right and leta me go,” Sanchez said.

"Sure, sure, hesa all right.   Hesa my fren', Ruba Sanchez." confirmed Jose.

"Says he works for You." Lieutenant Koch told him.

"'Tha’sa right, hesa my pard."

"That's different," mused the officer.   "Come up to the station and tell them all about it."

"Sure, I come.   You no worry, Ruha; I feex," Martinez answered, re-entering his room, without even inquiring why Sanchez was under arrest.   The officers followed with their prisoner.   In a corner, were two large corrugated boxes filled with dry marihuana.   Sergeant Smith examined their contents.

“What’s this?” he asked Martinez, holding out a handful of the dried weed.

“Tha’sa med’ceen.   Ruba and me, we sell heem.”
While Martinez dressed for the trip to the police station, Sergeant Smith searched the house and found more than 500 pounds of the drug in various stages of drying.

Half an hour later both men were docketed at the Northwestern Police Station charged with violating the Uniform State Narcotic Law.

Federal Narcotic Agent Boyd Martin in charge of the Baltimore district and Agents John B. Kelly and Paul C. Brigman soon reached the police station and questioned the prisoners.   Martinez would not talk, but Sanchez eventually told of a field of marihuana somewhere in East Baltimore and offered to lead the officers to it.

Early next morning, J.W. Quillen chief chemist of the United States Treasury Narcotic Laboratory, hurried to Baltimore and joined in the search for the farm.

Sanchez climbed into the police car with the officers and told the chauffeur where to go.
“Mea make meestake,” he explained when the car reached the place and no marihuana was found.

For nine hours the agents and police rode from one place to another under direction of the prisoner.   Always it was in the same general direction he had first given---just across the county line to the east and southeast of the city.   And, always it was a chase after a rainbow.   Accordingly, they decided Sanchez was having a good time at their expense, and started back for Baltimore.

Turning into Breatwood Avenue, a community of steel-mill and shipyard workers, the car proceeded over a smooth concrete road lined with modest cottage, each surrounded by a small track of land.   Many of the occupants were working in the little gardens that provided pastoral exercise.

About the middle of the 6900 block of Brentwood avenue, in the country, Agent Kelly glanced to his right across some vacant lots and noticed a cornfield.

A rarity, to say the least, in an industrial neighborhood.   Deciding this worth investigation he stopped the car, crossed to the field and disappeared in the corn.   Only the swaying tops as he pushed the stalks aside indicated where he was.   A sudden cry from him brought the others on a run.

“Here it is!” he shouted.

The group of officers quickly attracted the attention of neighbors, who dropped their tools and watched.

The outer edge of the field was planted with corn, tomatoes and other vegetables, forming an effective shield for an illicit crop in the center.   As the officers pressed through the corn and carne to the field proper, they beheld the largest single cultivated crop of illicit marihuana ever discovered in the history of the United States, according to the records of the Federal Narcotic Bureau.

Slightly more than two acres were given to the weed.   More than five tons of flowering tops---the potent, resinous pistillate---were cut down and destroyed by the Federal Agents and the police of Baltimore and Dundalk.

This crop was sufficient to make fifteen million pure marihuana cigarettes, worth at twenty-five cents each (the minimum for "unadulterated reefers), ·$3,750.000; or thirty million adulterated (one half marihuana and one half tobacco) at three-for-a-quarter, worth $2,500,000.

The marihuana seized was enough to give each man, woman and child in New York City, five cigarettes.   The money it would have netted the peddlers would have bought 25,000,000 loaves of bread, or would have supported 37,500 needy families for one month.

How many murders and other crimes of violence were prevented through the destruction of this patch of potential insanity, no one can estimate.

When the agents returned to their car, a crowd was gathered around the officer guarding Sanchez.

"Mea know nothing, thees not da plate," the prisoner kept insisting.

Among the spectators was a man who bad been edging closer and closer to the prisoner.

"Hello," he said when finally he was within a couple feet of Sanchez.   "Thanks for the vegetables.   They were fine.   Missus wants to put up some catsup and chili-sauce and says how much for about three bushels of tomatoes?"

Sanchez was sunk! Rage, fury and despair flashed across his face as he looked from one officer to another, hoping they had not heard.

"Do you know this man?" Kelly asked the stranger.

"I should say I do.   He's one of the guys who owns this farm and told me if I kept my eye on it I could have all the vegetables I wanted.   Say," he added, noticing the forlorn 'look on the prisoner's face, "what's wrong?" Then, seeing the manacled wrists: "Has he done something?" But Kelly was not answering questions---he was asking.

"Who else have you seen around here?" he wanted to know.

"Just one other fellow," said the neighbor, and described Martinez.   "They both come here about three times a week, work the ground and leave in the afternoon about this time!

"Did they take many vegetables with them?"

"No.   The only stuff they ever took was the tops of those big plants in there," said the neighbor, indicating the marihuana.   "They hauled it away on a truck.

"Once I asked what it was, and they said it was an important thing in a chicken feed they made.   Said it would almost double the lay of chickens.   I wanted some for my chickens, but they would not sell it.   Said it was dangerous to use and might kill the hens unless I know the proper things to mix with it, and they were a secret.   I wanted to buy some of their feed, but the other fellow said he couldn’t sell it because a man in New York took all he could make, and he didn’t have enough for him.

Further conversation revealed that Dominic Torre, also a Mexican, owned the property.

Baltimore County police from the Dundalk district, under the command of Sergeant Harry Baker, guarded the field throughout the night.   Early the next morning the agents returned, cut the crop and hauled it to the Dundalk Police Station, where they stored it in a well-ventilated room.   Later it was destroyed in a huge bonfire in the rear of the police station.

The United States Department of Agriculture treated the field with chemicals to destroy any sew which might be on the surface or germinating close to it.   Later it was plowed to destroy all roots.

While the agents were burning the weed, Sergeant Baker located Torre, who was later questioned by the federal agents.   He quickly cleared himself.

Sanchez and Martinez had told him they were on relief, and that the small amount of money they received was insufficient to support their families.   Actually, both were single.   They said they wanted to rent the field and raise vegetables to peddle from door to door.   Moved by their pleas, he had given them use of the field, rent free.   He lived several miles distant and had never visited the farm after the two started working it.

The two Mexicans had called at his house several times with corn, tomatoes, bean and other vegetables for his family explaining that it was the least they could do in return for the field.   Torre did not know that Sanchez and Martinez cared little or nothing about the vegetables.

The two conspirators were quickly sentenced to six months in the Baltimore jail for violating the Uniform State Narcotic Law.

Indian hemp is not indigenous to America, but it blooms in practically every state in the union.   Its widespread growth may be accounted for by the fact that in the sugar beet producing districts hundreds of Mexicans are employed to top beets and dig them for shipment to the sugar refineries.   Many of these workers are marihuana addicts.   They plant in secret patches, with the result that it is found growing along railroad tracks and infields where the seed has been carried by the wind.   In other parts of the country the same condition is found to exist, wherever large numbers of Mexicans are employed.   In some states it is believed that the plant seeded itself from a former cultivation for fibre purposes.

RECORDS of the Bureau of Narcotics show that wild marihuana grows in at least twenty-one states.   It also is found blooming in the “slough” districts of the Kentucky and Illinois River valleys.

The Department of Agriculture points out that the harvesting of hemp is done before the resinous substance yielding the narcotic principal cannabin is developed, which is indication of ample control of the commercial product.

Besides the fibre, Indian hemp also is cultivated in the United States for the seed, from which a rapidly drying oil is obtained for use in the arts and as a commercial substitute for linseed oil.   The narcotic principles contained in the resin of the dried flowering tops are used in pharmaceutical preparations, and the seeds form a constituent of commercial food for pet birds.

Cannabis sativa is used to a limited extent in medicine as a mild counter-irritant.   It is also used for the relief of neuralgic pain.   Practically every corn remedy contains cannabin, which gives it a green color.

Cannabin, the active narcotic principal of marihuana, rapidly deteriorates and after a year in storage its potency is almost destroyed.   After two years it is inert.

While the most popular method of using marihuana is in the form of cigarettes, either “straight” or mixed with tobacco, addicts also smoke it adulterated in pipes, which method is referred to as “kiff” and “hitting Indian hay.” Marihuana cigarettes are known variously as “Mary Warners”, “muggles”, “reefers”, “griffos”, “mootas” and “mooters”.

Some addicts in the near and far East mix the drug with whisky, alcohol and even beer for its stimulating effect.   It was in this manner that the Assassins of history used the drug to which is commonly applied the name hashish.

The Assassins were a sect of the Ishmaelite schism of the Mohammedan faith which flourished in the middle ages.   They lived in high mountain fastnesses (sic) in Asia Minor and Persia and made their living by forcing tribute from wealthy monarchs and nobles.   If the nobles did not pay, they invariably met sudden death in the night.

The rulers of the sect would take young men of strong physique, drug them, and take them to specially prepared places made to simulate the heaven of their religion.   Dancing girls and more hashish were prominent in these Elysian gardens.

When an assassination was required, a youth would be selected and drugged again with hashish.   Then he would be taken before the ruler, who posed as God and was known as “the Old Man of the Mountains”.   He would be told by this worthy that his only chance of return to heaven was by killing whichever recalcitrant noble was on the blacklist and by giving his earthly life for the task.

It is not hard to see why the nobles usually died.   The young men welcomed death as an opportunity to return to the dancing girls.   The sect flourished for hundreds of years until annihilated by Genghis Khan, the Mongol scourge.

The effect of hashish on the brain is quite marked, depending in intensity upon the size of the dose.   Ideas flow like water, and time seems without end throughout the period of exhilaration, which may last for several hours.   But with the let-down there comes a desire for sleep, and after eight or ten hours of slumber, recovery is noted.

Naturally the degree of the intoxication of influence of the drug depends entirely upon the disposition of the individual, some of whom react most violently even to small does.   Others, however, are but slightly affected by relatively large doses.

A NOTED criminologist, who must remain anonymous, decided after the execution of Perez to learn for himself what effects marihuana would have on a person of strong character and will power.   Accordingly he obtained a quantity of cigarettes and locked himself in his apartment.   With him were his wife and a friend, also a criminologist, who were to guard and restrain him, should it become necessary.

He began by drinking whisky, just as Pererz testified he had done before committing the outrage against the little girl.   After the third drink he lighted his first reefer.   A few extracts from his subsequent report describe his reactions:

"The marihuana gave off a pungent, sickening odor, and tasted worse than it smelled, I didn't see why anyone would want to smoke it.   It was sickening.   When I had smoked down to the last inch which contained all of the concentrated cannabin, I pulled hard to get its full effect, to absorb as much of the narcotic as possible.

"Ten or fifteen minutes passed with no noticeable effect.   Then my ears began to ring, my head to buzz.   I lighted a second cigarette, swallowed another whisky.   Soon a slight twitching in the muscles of my back, neck and legs was noticeable.   This quickly passed and a feeling of exaltation followed.

"Thoughts now flowed freely.   First was how well off I am in this world of trouble and strife.   I really liked myself.   Life was rosy---anything I wanted was mine.   Worries were something I knew nothing about.

After twelve hours he awoke.   His appetite was normal and he enjoyed his usual breakfast.   Later his friend joined him and his wife for a comparison of notes.

"I now appreciate the danger of marihuana,” said the criminologist later.   "My predominating thought while under its influence was women.   The vilest ideas man can conceive, ideas no sane man would entertain, flashed before me.   Women whom I would never give a thought or look became most desirable and alluring.

"They told me I rushed madly about the apartment, tearing off my clothing.   I even charged toward my wife, muttering unintelligibly.   Frightened, she fled to another room and locked the door.   In my hallucinations, she seemed to pass through the keyhole.

"My friend had a man-sized job protecting himself.   His collar and tie were ripped from his neck his shirt was torn and he exhibited a swollen mouth and bruised shoulder.

"Soon after the third cigarette, they told me, I was convulsed with laughter—that I roared, shouted, cheered, guffawed, rolled on the floor in mirth."

"What is your reaction?” I asked.
"Anyone who smokes marihuana should be locked up for life.”

Truer words were never spoken.   For in the pungent smoke of this sinister weed lies the seed of lust, violence, rape and murder.   Every citizen owes it to his government to help stamp out this devil's drug which is sweeping the country like wildfire ---- and which inevitably carries horror in its wake.

. . . Of such was the stuff of the Reefer Madness Era.


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