All About Pocket Knives

BOOT LEGGERS AND ILLEGAL WHISKEY

When I was a kid, there was a saying around here that went like this...."ALL bootlegger's have to keep white ribbons on their mailboxes so they won't sell to each other." They were door to door almost.
Of course that was somewhat of an exaggeration but still held a lot of truth. The most famous and well known bootlegger in the county had a drive-thru with a window. I know this sounds like a tale but you could just about pick up a phone book for my area and call anyone at random and ask this question and if they didn't know about it personally, they had heard stories. I remember it well. His house set just a little back from the road and the "liquor store" sat just off the road in front of his house. It was just a small building, something like a mom or pop dairy queen. There was a half moon driveway coming off the county road that went on each side of the shack. It even had those hose things to drive over that would make a sound......like used to be in the older gas stations. He had an ice box out to the side like they currently have at quick marts and groceries. He was finally busted for income tax evasion and spent a little time in the "big house." As far as I know he never went back in business when he got out. For one thing times had changed and I'm sure the Barney Fife's we have now would be on them like fly's on cow patties. I was young but I can remember when he got busted. My daddy and me were there when they came to get him. He had a big old shed off from the house that was so full of beer and liquor they called in for some Ryder trucks to come get it. While they were loading up the booze and searching, he was talking to my dad and some more men standing around watching the Proceedings and I can remember him saying......."I hope they don't find my big stash." I can barely remember but it seems he had another huge building on the back of his place that was FULL. They had every available pick-up they had loaded down and 2 Ryder trucks. I haven't seen any in years but the "cheap" beer for this time period was Falls City. They may still make it but I haven't seen any in years and years. By the time I knew what the prices were Falls City was $12 a case and Bud/Bud Lite was $16. Half pints were $4 and T J Swann wine was I think, $4. I had two uncles who bootlegged and made a small fortune. Spent it all but they made it just the same. Another notorious bootlegger was a woman. Stories still abound about this savvy old gal wherever people congregate. I'd like to say here that all bootleggers aren't like what is depicted on television as nasty hillbilly folks living in shacks. I can remember those also but this woman and the man with the drive-thru had very fine homes and in my opinion decent people. They just liked to bootleg. No law ever bothered the bootleggers much, and most gave them business. That is until I'm thinking around 1977 or ' 78. I would have been 7 or 8 at this time but I can remember the goings ons. A sheriff got elected to office that made it his goal to "bust" this woman. She's dead now but her name was June. Now keep in mind, this was a rather backwards place back then, and probably now too. After taking office, he started making plans to close June down. Nothing is kept secret around here, then or now. Everyone knows practically everyone and most of what's going on. So June knew he was on her trail. She didn't slow her business down one bit and just kept right on selling booze. The first time he arrested her, and it went to court.........she BEAT him in the courtroom and he had to buy back her booze because he had poured it all out and destroyed it. I can't remember all the details but it was something like he didn't read her rights to her or something. After this humiliation, he was more determined than ever. He realized that June wasn't going down easy and he would have to be smarter than he was this first time. He stayed after her for his whole 4 year term but June was still bootlegging beer and whiskey when he left office. At the time I don't know of any bootleggers around although this is still a dry county. I guess now days everyone has an automobile and don't care to drive the 30 miles over to the next county to buy their alcohol. At that time, a lot of folks didn't have cars and if they did maybe didn't have money for both the beer and gas. Gas was cheap at that time though and I was talking to my dad the other day about it. If it gets much higher than it is now, I'm sure some enterprising soul will start a business. I can remember a few bootleggers as late as the early "90's but they faded fast around that time. A well known practice bootleggers had for advertising purposes was a sign in their yard that said FRESH EGGS FOR SALE...I guess this was for folks passing through since everyone that lived around here knew they sold it anyway. Times have changed so much in such a short period of years. We are no doubt blessed with more comfort items to make our life easier than any generation before us, but I feel the old ways were simpler and when a man had done his days work, he could lay down and rest at night. Now the majority of us working class folks lay down and start worrying about bills and whatnot. There is a lot of Amish or Mennonites a couple of counties over and although I don't agree with everything about them, they sure live a simple life. Our everyday bills have no affect on them.....electric, water, vehicle insurance and upkeep, gas and just a lot of the things that take the majority of our paychecks. They have in the last few years started using phones. They won't have one in their house but have a phone booth in their yard. It's basically a wooden phone booth. Some of them run adds in the papers for logging and other things and when they give a phone # at the end, it always states...LET RING SEVERAL TIMES.
Back to the bootlegging, this county has always been a dry county, which I'm sure most of you know a dry county is one in which its illegal to sell any form of alcohol. It's been years since it has been brought to a vote to make the county wet but occasionally it was. This is the only time the bootleggers and Christians would be on the same side. The Christians wanted to keep it dry for obvious reasons and the bootleggers wanted it dry to keep their business running. I still think those were "the good ole days."

Brad

Good stories Brad, I'm enjoying them.

The first house I bought, about 1969, in New Jersey, had some puzzling features in the basement. There was a cinder block room in a corner of the basement, with a heavy, homemade wooden door. Also in this room was an old well and electric pump, and a flue through the block wall to the chimney in the main part of the basement. I used it for a laundry room. Just outside of this block room was an access to the crawl space under a shed addition on the rear of the house. When tearing out old floor covering, to remodel this shed addition, I discovered a nailed down old ' trapdoor', which was between the access to the crawl space from the basement, and the rear door of the shed.

Never put it all together until one day a local farmer who delivered eggs and produce asked if I had found an old still yet. He said the house was owned by a bootlegger during prohibition !

I also remember a 'family heirloom' in the garage of the home I grew up in. A copper wash boiler with a funnel and some copper tubing soldiered to the lid. Home brew seems to have been a popular hobby in the 1930's no matter where you lived.

Fran

Back when Imperial County was "dry", my dad tried to smuggle a bottle of booze across the border through the checkpoint. Well, they pulled him into inspection, pulled the seats out of his car and found the bottle. It was cold outside in December so after they processed him (had to pay a fine), the inspectors opened up his bottle and drank it right there while they had him re-assemble his car. Dad was angry! He said they could have at least offered him a drink!!!!!!!!!!

Ya'll mean there's a law against making shine?

Duff......Shhhhh !

Great read Brad! When are you going to put all this together in a book?

What has always puzzled me is why the two states known for producing the finest bourbon whiskey have so many,"dry" counties? Someone said once that the county that Jack Daniel's is produced in is dry. Anyone know the reason for this? It would make this,"Yankee" happy to know.

two words - bible belt!

Thanks everyone for you comments and taking the time to read............k7k you ain't the first one to ask me about writing a book but they all wanted it for different reasons. I am full of useless backwoods KY knowledge I guess but what I'm really FAMOUS for is my divorce!!! I can't believe you guys haven't heard any stories. Now if you want to talk about a read, there would be one!! I was married to the meanest, toughest, brawling, wild cat of a woman this country has ever heard about it. My boss at the time the major stuff was happening told me if I lived through it, that when I got old, I would sure have some stories to tell. He always told me that I had to write a book and get it all down in one place and he wanted the 1st copy that came off the press. I'm about like a t-shirt I saw one time: I got beat, stomped, shot, run over, run down, clubbed and cussed in every language known to humans and animals. I have seen some s*it in my life, that's true. I am one of the few people you will here say this too...if I had the chance to do it over, I WOULDN'T.......for the simple fact that I would be afraid it might be worse next go around.

Glad you all enjoy the stories though. They are as factual as I can remember and not embellished at any point. In fact I have left out key points of interest a time or two because I couldn't remember EXACTLY.

Brad

beat,stomped, shot, run over, run down... "COPE" or "COPS". Or is it just a coincidence HAha, just kidding Cope. Great stories

You have to stay away from that shine it does crazy things to the head like i can't remember. speaking from experince but it sure does taste good
________
Don

useem....both would have to be accurate but the tag Cope comes from my very true love.......COPENHAGEN snuff. Yep, I love my pocket knives but if I had to pick, well I just hope I never have to get rid of my knives! But COPS would work also, too bad they never done any filming around here for about a 4 year period or I would be famous now. The last run-in I had with the COPpers, the old lady decided to follow me in one morning and give me a free mace lesson. Somehow though in the battle that ensued in my front, side, and back yard it got in HER eyes somehow. She had it dripping off her chin!! ......<Cope spits> Now boys let me tell ye what.....if ye ever have the need to back a feller up and there is some of that there mace handy.......<spits> that'll bring'em to their knees!! I was at home when this happened. She called the sheriff and I was in the process of "escorting" him down the driveway when he......called for BACK-UP. Now if your not familiar with the term "BACK-UP" in this sense......it's not a good thang. There was a time around here that you could do stuff like this and get by with it, at least for a little while, but I found out that time had passed. They now have these radio's and can have your yard full of Barney's by the time a feller can freshen up his dip. I spent some time in the pokey for that one but hey, I got something to tell my grandkids I guess.

Brad

Cope, I can relate to alot of what you've posted. My Great Grandfather, Grandfather, and some uncles used to run shine down in KY, VA, and here in southern WV. being that they lived close to where all three of these states met each other. All were in prison for it at one time or another, once they were all in there at the same time. The run in with the Sheriff well, I worked law enforcement and know how that goes too. I've been shot at, stabbed, kicked, cussed, and pepper sprayed. That all was pretty bad but, the worst pain I ever felt (besides kidney stones) was picking some super hot peppers that my Dad raised in the garden when I was a kid. I had been picking those hot peppers all morning, along with my brothers, and mother nature called. So I run up into the woods and behind a tree to turn the water loose. After a couple of minutes, I thought I was on fire. Hot rod took on a whole new meaning for me right then. Yep, thought for sure those hot peppers had done fixed it to where I was going to go around half cocked the rest of my life, if you know what I mean. All my brothers were laughing at me, Dad thought I got snake bit, and Mom started praying for me, almost as loud as I was screaming (she thought I'd done got a demon in me). Now if by chance, you ever find yourself in this predicament, don't put alcohol on your hot spot. It's like throwing gas on a fire. One of my brothers came up with a brain storm ideal to put milk on the hot spot because he heard it helped with the burn of hot pepper. Well, the out come of this suggestion of throwing cold milk on the burn did help a little with the burning but, after the cold milk hit, I turned into my brother's sister. Hot crotch was my nick name for a while. I asked Dad if I could only pick tomatoes and green onions from there on out.

Duffy, I can't believe someone else did that too ! I was breaking open dried ones, to save the seeds.

Fortunately I was at home, with cold running water.

I feel your pain !

Fran

Since we're talkin' outta school, so to speak - I can tell ya'll a story about how 'shine cost me 31 years of life...

Got outta the Navy, and came back home. Godmother Martha gave me a plastic jug, which she declared was the last Joe Suva wine on earth, as a housewarming gift. (Joe was a local winemaker, deceased by then). Well, I don't drink, or even like wine.

So, 3 weeks later, I get my 1st paycheck - go the the bank to cash it, and the teller is an old girlfriend. WoW ! I asked her if she would like to go out to dinner, she said yes...so I picked her up at 7, took her back to my pad and prepared a gourmet meal of chicken pot pie and potato chips. After the meal, we're enjoying each other's company... and in walks my good buddy, with his wife. Sooo, we open the fridge and drink all the beer in the house. Now it's after midnight - nobody's ready to go home, so I remember the wine, in that plastic jug. Everybody gets a glass - that's pretty much all I remember.

Next day, I wake up at girlfriend's apartment, and we're engaged. Meek and mild-mannered, like I am, I say Ok -- then I rush to Godmother Martha's house, and tell her and her husband the whole story - what am I gonna DO ?

Martha's husband sez - "You mean that plastic jug of Joe Suva wine, under the kitchen sink ?" - Martha sez, "Yes". He sez, "Hell, I poured half of that stuff out, 5 years ago, and replaced it with 'shine."

I forgave him, eventually. But it took me 31 years to get away from that girl.

Moral of the story : If you think 'shine is cheap, consider the consequence. Stick with beer.

Take Care,
JR

My experience with 'shine was when I was in the Navy.Stationed in Patuxent River MD from 1965 to 1967.Saint Mary's County was at that time the only county in Maryland where slot machines were legal.The suckers were EVERYWHERE.
The only law enforcement was the local sheriff who was best friends with the 3 or 4 people who literally owned the entire county.The state police had two cars patrolling the ENTIRE county so that wasn't a problem.The Shore Patrol only annoyed sailors and marines.
Literally every bar in town had a bottle or two of local product that was about 150 proof(low test?).The only thing I can equate with taking a sip of that stuff was inadvertantly swallowing a mouthful of gas at the local,"midnight gasoline store". After the first couple slugs it was bearable though.
Sort of like eating Cambodian food;after a couple mouthfuls you're taste buds have unconditionally surrendered and gone away.
The only other time I had anything like it was when I was 16 and my friend and I got into his dad's liquor cabinet right after he got back from Mexico.Tried some,"agardiente"(sp?)that was about 180 proof.Definitely firewater!
Try writing your book.I did one after getting a divorce from my first wife(who was half Irish,half Sicilian,and half crazy).Never got it published(too libelous)but had a couple copies printed in case I wanted to present it to a publisher.Those will go to my kids when I'm gone.

GREAT STORIES MEN.....I LOVE'EM!!!! Nothing like a trip down meemory lane. Even the bad stuff don't seem so bad after it's had time to set a spell. Ain't that right Hot Crotch?? I love good whiskey but gave alcohol up probably going on 2 yrs now. I had enough half gallon Beam jugs laying around here for a while to start up my own business. There were of course the bad times, but most of those can even be snickered at after a cooling off period. Again.......GREAT STORIES!!!

Brad

I was about 7 when I member my grandad tellin one of my uncles that, I was raised in the hills of nothern Arkansas up above a little place called Wesley, pop. 95 maybe on sturday night.
From my back yard you could shunck a rock real hard and hit the roof of the hardware store 3/4s of a mile down.
I am sittin here now with one of grandads jugs on the floor, I go through it kinda spareing cause he has been gone since 74.
I used to be the one ellected to distract him so one of the other guys could grab a jar and then we would skip skool and head for the watterin hole and drink and fish the rest of the day.
It was a mile out of the way to go by the still on the way to school and every mornin and every evenin we made that extra mile.
It is 5:00 am I will add to this one of these days.
Rusty