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As Though It Never Happened ! by Dolores Halbin , contributing writer
I am expunged . Expunged a few days before March 4 , when we Marched Forth for prohibition repeal on State Line Road . Both events are huge steps forward , more chunks out of the asteroid of prohibition . I used to say “ iceberg ,” but while we have fought this war , the icebergs have melted , so the analogy doesn ’ t work anymore .
This calls for a celebration ! I should be feeling just about anything except what I am feeling , and that , my friends , is anger — pure , raw , unadulterated rage .
I come from a long line of female warriors and justice fighters on both sides of the family . Mom was a Hancock , a direct descendant of John Hancock , signer of The Declaration of Independence . Her father was a fifth-generation English Church of Christ preacher . When grandma died , we had to get special permission for her talented great-grandkids to play her a song , which they had to do from an alcove . Musical instruments are banned in church . They ’ re too much fun . When I ’ m talking to Senators , I preach like my grandfather .
I was a Grant by marriage . Gene was a direct descendant of Ulysses S . If you look at a $ 50 bill , the spitting image of my husband ( when he was younger with hair ) looks back . He taught me not to back down in battle .
56 April 2023
On my paternal grandmother ’ s side , I ’ m a Scott . Our Montgomery Family Crest is a warrior woman holding a severed head in one hand , standing on the Anchor of Justice with a broadsword sheathed around her waist — our motto : Garde Bien , Watch Well . When I fight on the battlefield now , I fight with a vengeance , but my pen , my words are my sword . Sometimes I sigh and wish we still had the easier way of winning the day as depicted in our family crest .
The Scotts are famous for celebrating even the smallest of battles won . I must have more English in me than Scottish , and that ’ s too bad because these two events are worth celebrating . They are battles won , and I would rather be joyous than angry .
Bates County Courthouse
A few weeks ago , I met Christina Frommer , my dear friend and co-founder of the Canna Convict Project ( along with her husband , Chris Smith ), in Harrisonville . She drove me the rest of the way to the Bates County Courthouse in Butler , MO . I had her stop at the gas station so I could get a couple of mini bottles of tequila . I applaud everyone who exists solely on the cannabis plant . I find the succulent Blue Agave synergistic with cannabis under certain circumstances . Going into the Bates County Courthouse is one such occasion .
During the 24 months of court appearances in this century-plusold courthouse , both with my husband until he died , then alone , I kept a bottle of Patron in my trunk and took a big drink before I went to court . It was one of the bigger bottles , lasting until I took the final shot on March 21 , 2016 , before my final appearance for sentencing . I kept the empty bottle .
We knew these expungements would be automatic by June 1 , but my inquiries made me aware that Bates County did not have a plan in place . So , following in the footsteps of others like Jeff Mizanskey , Christina helped me fill out a Petition for Expungement . I was shaking too badly to write .
The building is an homage to craftsmanship with its eight-foot wide circular , ornate , hardwood staircase . After 20-plus appearances , I have not found the capacity to protect myself from the memories while I am inside those walls . I can still feel the shackles when I look at the elevator , feel the dragging of all those chains into the courthouse . How Gene had slipped getting out of the jail van on the way to our arraignment , cut his wrist on the cruel steel of the handcuffs , and wouldn ’ t stop bleeding .