A New Fight for a Holdout on Prohibition of liquor sales

July 17, 2007
Moorestown Journal
A New Fight for a Holdout on Prohibition
By RICHARD G. JONES
MOORESTOWN, N.J.

For all that this well-to-do South Jersey town has ?- a history as rich and deep as some of America's oldest cities, a designation by a national magazine as the top community in which to raise a family ?- it has long been well known for something that it lacks: liquor sales.

Founded by Quakers in the 17th century and further fortified by the temperance movement 100 years ago, Moorestown is one of 39 remaining dry towns ?- including Haddonfield and Ocean City ?- among New Jersey's 566 municipalities.

But now Moorestown, which wears its prohibition like a proud old pearl brooch in an era when suburban towns seem to crave more bling, is, for the third time in a century, considering allowing limited alcohol sales.

Proponents of the plan, in which the town would sell as many as a half-dozen liquor licenses to restaurateurs for about $1.5 million each, say doing so could provide a welcome infusion of cash to this town of 20,000 and increase its tax base.

Critics say that it would alter the character of a town that since before Prohibition has been defined as much by a distinct value system preventing alcohol sales as by its sturdy Colonials.

As supporters work to gather the 1,800 signatures required to put the proposal on the November ballot, many here are split over whether the possible financial rewards in the future are worth breaking with an uncommon part of the town's past.

"Moorestown is special," said Daniel Roccato, a member of the Township Council who opposes the liquor licenses. "Are we special because we don't have booze? No. Is that a factor in what makes us special? Absolutely. There is a certain part of our character that is inexorably linked to the fact that we are a dry town."

Dry, and divided: The Council voted 3 to 2 this spring to put the referendum process in motion.

Mr. Roccato argues that the long-term financial effects of relaxing the town's blue laws would be far more harmful than the short-term profit from the liquor licenses.

"People are painting a misleading picture when they say there is only benefit and no cost," Mr. Roccato said. "No one is calculating the extra costs."

He predicted that the police would have to hire more officers to respond to calls at establishments where alcohol is sold and to deal with increased drunken driving.

But Jacob Der Hagopian, chairman of the Moorestown Economic Development Advisory Committee and the leading supporter of the plan, calculates the benefits, like the taxes the town could collect from liquor sales.

"We're not trying to create a Mardi Gras-type of drinking environment here," said Mr. Der Hagopian, a business developer who has lived in the township for 11 years. "We're talking about fine dining here."

He said that the proposal would not allow liquor stores and that it would probably restrict the licenses to restaurants on the commercial corridor along Route 38 at the southern end of town.

He also said that communities that border Moorestown ?- many of which have liquor stores strategically placed on the township line ?- generate money from selling bottles to those who patronize Moorestown restaurants where diners are allowed to bring their own.

"We have to let our commercial assets be able to compete with other towns' commercial assets," Mr. Der Hagopian said.

Under New Jersey law, municipalities are allowed to issue one liquor license for every 3,000 residents, which is why Moorestown, population 19,017 in the 2000 census, would be limited to six. A license in nearby Cherry Hill recently resold for $1.5 million; Mr. Der Hagopian said bidding would probably open here at $1 million.

Founded in 1682, the same year as Philadelphia, Moorestown shares a Quaker heritage with that much larger city, 14 miles west across the Delaware River, where it is far easier to procure a drink.

Locals say the town's arid history can be traced to its Quaker roots. Later, when the women's temperance movement gained enough sway to lobby the town to enact a regulation, it was codified in 1915, and the sale of liquor was barred in stores and in restaurants.

Prohibition rendered such laws moot, but when it ended in 1933, Moorestown stayed dry. Twice over the past 75 years ?- in 1935 and in 1953 ?- residents have had the opportunity to pass referendums putting a red line through the blue laws. Both were soundly defeated, and it could be an uphill battle again this time.

"A lot of people don't think it'll pass ?- they say, ?'Who really needs it?' " said Ben Blumberg, the owner of Barnacle Ben's restaurant here, which would not be going for a license if the referendum passes. "A lot of people have wine cellars. There's liquor stores you can walk to. If people want liquor, they know how to find it."

Residents jealously guard their quality of life in this town, which Money magazine named the best place to live in 2005.

Derwood Clem, 68, who has lived here for 26 years, said some of his neighbors "fear" ?- using air quotes ?- the kind of customers who might be attracted by restaurants where liquor is available.

"There's some concern about unsavory characters coming into town," Mr. Clem said, before leaning in close and adding in a stage whisper. "I know a lot of unsavory characters that live here right now."

Some opponents of the plan might pin that label on a significant figure from the town's past, Thomas Moore.

Mr. Moore who settled here about 1720, soon bought up so much land that the locals changed the community's name from Chester Township to Moorestown.

Local historians say that not much is known about Mr. Moore, like what brought him to the town that would eventually bear his name or precisely how long he stayed here. But among the facts that remain in the historical record is his occupation: He was a tavern owner.