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Brooklyn’s relationship with controlled substances spans over a century of cultural evolution, policy shifts, and community adaptation. From the hidden speakeasies of the 1920s to today’s licensed cannabis dispensaries, our borough has consistently demonstrated a unique approach to navigating prohibition and regulation. This rich history tells a story not just of resistance to restrictive laws, but of a community’s journey toward more sensible, equitable policies.
As Green Apple Cannabis Co. prepares to serve the Greenpoint community, we recognize that we’re part of a much larger narrative—one that connects the early defiance of alcohol prohibition to the modern cannabis legalization movement. Let’s explore this fascinating journey through Brooklyn’s past and how it led to the thriving, legal cannabis market we’re proud to be part of today.
When the 18th Amendment banned alcohol across America in 1920, Brooklyn—especially our home neighborhood of Greenpoint—responded with widespread defiance that became legendary.
Greenpoint earned a reputation amongst law enforcement as perhaps the “speakeasy capital” of New York during Prohibition. While Manhattan might be more famous for its glitzy underground nightclubs, Greenpoint residents established one of the city’s most resilient networks of illicit drinking establishments.
In 1926, law enforcement uncovered a massive secret distillery hidden inside an ash-can factory at 245 Manhattan Avenue. Police seized equipment worth an estimated $250,000 (about $25 million in today’s dollars), highlighting the industrial scale of Greenpoint’s bootlegging operations.
Local officers estimated that around 800 illicit bars operated throughout the neighborhood, covertly serving alcohol in candy stores, cigar shops, and even hardware stores. The neighborhood’s resistance to Prohibition was so normalized that children were sometimes sent on errands to buy candy and smuggle home jugs of bootleg liquor.
Brooklyn as a whole became known for its resistance to Prohibition. Authorities struggled to enforce the law against the tide of public sentiment and entrepreneurial spirit. In 1924, Judge Thomas Dale famously complained that nowhere else in Brooklyn were prohibition laws flouted as blatantly as in Greenpoint and the surrounding Eastern District.
“You can get a drink in candy shops, in cigar stores, hat stores… It wouldn’t take me long to get a line on them,” he fumed, threatening to jail every bootlegger if he only had the resources.
Brooklyn had its share of infamous bootleggers, including Charles “Vannie” Higgins—known as “Brooklyn’s Last Irish Boss”—who made a fortune smuggling Canadian whiskey. While Manhattan had its notorious gangsters, Brooklyn’s resistance was more often characterized by countless neighborhood entrepreneurs and local gangs maintaining a vibrant underground nightlife.
Even Greenpoint’s alderman, Peter McGuinness, a teetotaler himself, tacitly tolerated the situation. McGuinness publicly predicted Prohibition’s failure, declaring “America does not want to be a dry country… New York will never be arid,” and pushed for repeal.
In a telling incident that captured the era’s wink-and-nod enforcement, a speakeasy was busted directly under McGuinness’s own political club on New Year’s Eve 1931. Bootleggers even operated out of a veterans’ hall of which he was president—yet McGuinness denied any knowledge of these activities.
Brooklyn’s defiance during the “noble experiment” of Prohibition established a pattern of independent thinking about controlled substances that would resonate through the decades that followed.
The story of cannabis in Brooklyn reflects broader societal shifts in perception and policy throughout the 20th century.
In the early 1900s, cannabis was legal and even used medicinally in New York. By the 1930s, however, it fell under harsh prohibition, swept up in a national wave of anti-cannabis sentiment often tinged with racial bias.
Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia took a remarkably progressive stance by commissioning an in-depth study of marijuana in 1939. The LaGuardia Committee report, published in 1944, debunked many fear-mongering myths—finding no evidence that marijuana caused insanity, crime, or addiction as federal authorities claimed. This scientific pushback, though ahead of its time, did little to change enforcement practices in the short term.
By the 1950s, New York City had adopted a zero-tolerance approach to cannabis. In the summer of 1951, city authorities launched a massive campaign to eradicate wild-growing marijuana plants that had spontaneously taken root across the five boroughs.
Cannabis grew like “innocuous” weeds in vacant lots from Williamsburg and Greenpoint to Cobble Hill and East New York, with plants reaching 7 to 10 feet tall. That year, the Sanitation Department’s “White Wing Squad” destroyed over 41,000 pounds of marijuana plants citywide, including about 17,200 pounds in Brooklyn alone.
The sight of workers piling giant cannabis stalks onto trucks for incineration became emblematic of the era’s crackdown. New York’s message was clear: even wild weed would not be tolerated.
In 1973, Governor Nelson Rockefeller signed draconian drug laws that lumped cannabis with hard drugs—possession of just a few ounces of marijuana could result in 15 years to life in prison under the infamous Rockefeller Drug Laws. These extreme penalties reflected the punitive mindset of the nationwide “War on Drugs.”
A few years later, in 1977, New York took a more lenient step by decriminalizing possession of small amounts of marijuana. Under that reform, having up to 25 grams became a non-criminal violation punishable by a $100 fine.
In theory, this spared casual users from jail, but a significant loophole remained—cannabis in public view was still a misdemeanor. NYPD officers often exploited this by asking people to empty their pockets, thus bringing cannabis “into public view” and justifying an arrest.
As a result, marijuana arrests in NYC actually surged in the 1990s and 2000s despite decriminalization being on the books. Between 1997 and 2010, the city made over 525,000 arrests for low-level marijuana possession, mostly for public display of tiny quantities. These enforcement practices disproportionately impacted communities of color, creating lasting social inequities.
Despite harsh enforcement, Brooklyn’s cultural relationship with cannabis gradually evolved. In the 1960s and ’70s, as hippie culture embraced marijuana, its presence grew in the city’s counterculture scenes. By the 1990s and 2000s, a burgeoning reform movement and the obvious racial disparities in enforcement led many Brooklynites to reconsider cannabis laws.
As neighborhoods like Williamsburg and Greenpoint experienced an influx of artists and young professionals in the 2000s, attitudes grew more relaxed. Unlicensed “smoke shops” quietly sold paraphernalia, and occasional underground cannabis pop-ups weren’t uncommon, reflecting a growing acceptance that would eventually lead to major legal changes.
The journey from prohibition to legalization wasn’t swift or simple—it required persistent advocacy, community organizing, and a fundamental shift in how society viewed cannabis and those who use it.
One of the earliest champions for a more rational approach to cannabis was Mayor LaGuardia in the 1940s. Though his committee’s findings were largely ignored by federal authorities, they planted a seed of skepticism toward the harshest anti-cannabis claims.
By the late 1960s, the counterculture brought cannabis activism into the streets. In 1973, New York City’s pro-cannabis advocates (notably radical groups like the Yippies) organized one of the nation’s first “smoke-in” rallies for legalization. The annual NYC Cannabis Parade was born out of these early protests—a tradition that continues to this day, with marches from Greenwich Village to Union Square each spring.
By the 1990s, the absurdity of jailing people for minor marijuana offenses was drawing serious criticism. Scholars and civil rights advocates in NYC exposed how cannabis enforcement disproportionately targeted Black and Hispanic communities.
In Brooklyn, reform-minded leaders began to emerge. Ken Thompson, who became Brooklyn District Attorney in 2014, announced his office would stop prosecuting most low-level marijuana possession cases. This was a landmark shift—effectively decriminalizing personal use in Brooklyn through policy, even before the laws changed.
That same year, Mayor Bill de Blasio directed the NYPD to issue tickets instead of making arrests for small amounts of cannabis. These changes resulted from years of pressure from advocacy organizations like the Drug Policy Alliance and NORML (National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws), who had highlighted decades of injustice.
In 2014, New York State legalized medical cannabis, allowing tightly regulated dispensaries for patients with certain conditions. Although initially very limited (permitting only tinctures and pills, not smokable flower), this signaled a crack in the prohibition wall.
Finally, after years of lobbying, rallies, and negotiation, New York approved full recreational legalization in 2021. The Marijuana Regulation and Taxation Act (MRTA) was passed by the state legislature and signed on March 31, 2021. This historic law not only made cannabis legal for adults 21 and older but also included social justice provisions like expunging old convictions and prioritizing license applications from communities hit hardest by past drug enforcement.
The activists had won a major victory. In Brooklyn, former underground cannabis entrepreneurs and legacy activists began emerging from the shadows, hopeful to join the new legal market. The legalization movement—decades in the making—showed how persistent advocacy and changing public attitudes could bring about profound policy shifts.
Greenpoint’s experience with prohibition and drug policy has often stood apart from other Brooklyn neighborhoods, shaped by its unique demographic history and community values.
Historically a working-class enclave with a large immigrant (particularly Polish) population, Greenpoint developed a culture of pragmatic tolerance toward vices like alcohol. During the 1920s Prohibition, while some upscale or conservative areas may have adhered more to the dry law, Greenpoint unabashedly ignored it—to a greater extent than most communities.
Neighbors looked out for each other (or at least looked the other way), and local police enforcement was said to be more relaxed or overwhelmed in the face of hundreds of speakeasies. This contrasted with more temperance-minded parts of southern Brooklyn or Queens where speakeasies were fewer. Greenpoint’s reputation as the borough’s thirsty rebel was a point of neighborhood pride.
When it came to cannabis, Greenpoint’s attitudes evolved in step with broader society, yet with its own nuances. For much of the mid-20th century, Greenpoint’s predominantly older and immigrant residents viewed “marijuana” with suspicion—it was an unfamiliar drug often conflated with crime in the news.
Unlike neighborhoods such as the East Village or even parts of Park Slope, Greenpoint didn’t have a visible hippie or bohemian scene in the 1960s advocating for cannabis. Instead, its residents were more likely to encounter cannabis through negative headlines or occasional police busts.
By the 1990s, however, as Greenpoint began to gentrify and a younger generation moved in, local perspectives grew more accepting. North Brooklyn (including Greenpoint and adjacent Williamsburg) became known for trendy bars, music venues, and a blossoming arts community—settings in which casual cannabis use was relatively common.
While a long-time Greenpointer in the 1990s might still wrinkle their nose at the smell of weed on Franklin Street, by the 2010s it was hardly unusual to catch a whiff in McCarren Park on a summer afternoon.
In 2021, when New York legalized adult-use marijuana, there were neighborhoods in Brooklyn—particularly more conservative, family-oriented ones in South Brooklyn—that reacted with strong resistance. For instance, in Bay Ridge, local officials and residents rallied against a proposed dispensary, citing its proximity to schools and churches.
Greenpoint, by contrast, has approached the new cannabis era more open-mindedly. The local Community Board 1 set up a Cannabis Committee to review license applications and hear community input, generally aiming for a balanced approach rather than outright rejection.
Some Greenpointers have raised reasonable concerns—for example, when a historic bank building on Manhattan Avenue was slated to become a cannabis store, a few neighbors questioned if there were already too many smoke shops or worried about the proximity to schools. But overall, Greenpoint’s attitude has been more one of curiosity and cautious optimism than backlash.
The neighborhood’s mix of long-time residents (many of whom have come to accept that legalization is state law) and newer, more cannabis-friendly transplants means that public dialogue tends to focus on how to integrate dispensaries responsibly, not whether to ban them. In short, Greenpoint’s history of tolerating the speakeasies of yesteryear perhaps paved the way for accepting legal cannabis businesses today.
Today’s legal cannabis market didn’t appear overnight—it’s the result of decades of evolving understanding and advocacy. Our dispensary stands on the shoulders of those who worked to end prohibition and stigma. We honor this history by operating with transparency, education, and community responsibility at our core.
The transition from strict prohibition to a legal cannabis market in Brooklyn has been rapid and remarkable. In the span of just a decade, New York went from mass-arresting people for marijuana to expunging convictions and issuing dispensary licenses.
Brooklyn, once dubbed the “Marijuana Arrest Capital” during the 2000s, is now home to legitimate cannabis businesses operating in the open. This change builds directly on the advocacy and lessons of the past.
The 2021 legalization law didn’t simply make cannabis legal—it was crafted with input from activists and community leaders to address past harms. The law mandated automatic expungement of many past marijuana convictions, offering a fresh start to thousands of New Yorkers. It also created programs to help people from over-policed neighborhoods to get a foot in the door of the new industry.
At Green Apple Cannabis Co., we see ourselves as not just a business, but as stewards of this new era of cannabis acceptance. Our mission emphasizes education, safety, and community engagement:
Where once federal agents raided Greenpoint basements to smash stills, now state-licensed shops like ours contribute tax revenue to New York’s public schools and drug treatment programs (by law, a portion of cannabis tax revenue is earmarked for these public goods).
Brooklyn’s journey from Prohibition-era bootlegging to hosting legal cannabis dispensaries illustrates a dramatic shift in public policy and local attitude. Today, a Greenpoint resident can walk into a licensed store to buy cannabis products openly—an act that builds on generations of advocacy and the neighborhood’s own unique history of pushing back against ill-conceived bans.
The story of Brooklyn and controlled substances is still unfolding, but it stands as a testament to resilience, changing social norms, and the power of community-driven change. At Green Apple Cannabis Co., we’re proud to be writing the next chapter of this remarkable history.
Whether you’re a cannabis connoisseur or simply cannabis-curious, we invite you to visit us and experience for yourself how far we’ve come from the days of speakeasies and propaganda. The future of cannabis in Brooklyn is legal, transparent, and community-focused—just as it should be.
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