Today’s guest post was written by Garland Davis.
It was in the fall of 1956.
Grandpap and I were resting on the porch after eating dinner. A pickup pulled off the road by the mailbox and blew his horn. Pap said, “Stay here boy.”, and walked across the yard to the parked truck. He stood with his foot on the running board and talked for a minute with whoever was driving. He turned from the truck and walked back to the house as the truck drove off.
“Boy, go to the shed and git two shovels and meet me at the barn.” He said as he passed the porch going toward the back of the house.
I did as he said. As I approached the barn he was coming from the house pushing a wheelbarrow. He said, “Lets git the still loaded on this wheelbar. We gotta bury hit. The revenuers are gonna raid us t’night. Havin’ a still is jist as illegal as havin’ the likker.”
We loaded the boiler, the cover, and the thumper on the wheelbarrow along with a bunch of burlap bags. He pushed the barrow while I carried the worm and condenser box. We went down a path and across the creek to an area where an old tobacco pack house had once stood.
Packhouses are built over a basement where tobacco can be hung to keep it moist and pliable before preparing it for market. When the old house had been torn down the basement had been filled in. It would be a lot easier digging.
We dug a hole similar to a grave, wrapped the various parts in burlap, lowered them into the hole and shoveled the dirt over them. We spread the extra dirt around. He had me bring three or four barrow loads of pine needles from the woods which he spread around the area. We also moved a couple logs and a pile of tobacco sticks from about a hundred feet away.
He told me, “Buster, don’t you be telling nobody where this still is buried. You hear me now?”
I nodded affirmatively, knowing that if I did tell anyone, Pap would wear my butt out with a set of plow lines.
We took the shovels and wheelbarrow back to the barn and went to sit on the porch and wait for the revenuers. It was right before supper when the County Sheriff, a group of deputies and two federal agents showed up. They presented Pap with a piece of paper and the deputies spread out to search the house and outbuildings. The Sheriff stayed on the porch with Pap and me. He fired up a cigar as Pap cut a bite from a plug of chewing tobacco. They settled down in a pair of straight-backed chairs to smoke and chew. The sheriff had once played professional baseball. He had played on the old Boston team with Babe Ruth. He was famous for pitching a no-hitter that wasn’t a no-hitter. The Babe was a pitcher in those days. Ruth started the game, walked the first hitter and was ejected from the game for arguing with the ump. Ernie went in and retired the next twenty-seven hitters, no walks, no hits and no runs. After his baseball career, he came back to North Carolina and ran for County Sheriff. It looked as if the job was his for as long as he wanted. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone told me that Ernie had been behind the tip Pap got from the guy in the pickup.
“Joe, you teaching this boy the business?”, Ernie asked Pap.
Pap leaned over and spit into the yard. He said, “What growin’ tabaccer. Naw, this boy ain’t gonna grow tabaccer. He is good in school, smart as a whup. All he talks about is goin’ to the Navy when he’s old ‘nuff.”
“Joe, you know I’m talking about making likker.”
“I don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout anybody makin’ likker ‘round here. You aint’ gonna find no likker on my place.”, Pap answered.
The truth was there was twenty-four half gallon fruit jars of moonshine in a wooden box concealed under the feeding trough of the pig pen. There were an additional twelve gallons in a culvert up the road. I had crawled in and placed the jugs. I knew that my uncle also had twelve gallons hidden somewhere on his place.
The conversation went this way for about an hour. Ernie making subtle accusations and Pap denying knowing anything about moonshine. This was a charade they had obviously played out before.
After an hour or so, the deputies began drifting back to the porch with negative reports. The two revenue agents finally showed up, reluctantly willing to take a no answer this time. They piled into their vehicles and left.
Pap watched them leave and said, “We’ll wait a few days before we dig up the still. I think them boys might be back in a few days. Come on boy, let’s go take care of the critters and get some supper.”
It was late by the time we finished milking the cows and feeding them and the mules, pigs, and chickens. It was dark by the time we got to the house and we ate supper by lamplight. There was no electricity in my grandfather’s house. My grandmother would not countenance anything to do with electricity. She felt that it was the work of the devil. (It was the twentieth century, the nineteen fifties but my Granny never moved out of the nineteenth century.)
Pap died in his sleep that night.
That was sixty-two years ago and I have never told anyone where the still was buried. Just like Pap told me. As far as I know, it is still there unless the copper has completely corroded away.
I hope you enjoyed Garland’s post as much as I do!
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I came across this 3/16/2023 article today (3/21/2023). Thanks, Tipper, for publishing Garland Davis’ article. I know him only through this article. May God bless him with better eyesight! That article inspired my website article of earlier today. My article is about the church hayride and the moonshine still. Most everyone, born and raised in Appalachia, has a moonshine story. I didn’t fall off the hay wagon!
Tipper, I missed this post on the 16th, but so glad I backed up to read it! Thanks to Garland and you and the other commentors. Heritage is a rich and varied process, is it not?
I’m a little behind on my reading, but was wondering if Mr. Garland Davis has his writings published somewhere? I’ll try to go back and catch up on some of them on BP&A, but would love to have a collection of his stories. This one was surely a gem.
Loved the story he should try and write a book. I love your stories about pap he seems like such an interesting person, so many irons in the fire from making music, working, coaching, making a garden and raising a family he was a busy man and listening to you a much loved man. Keep celebrating!
I missed PB&A yesterday, but Mr. Garland’s story was just as good today! My wife and I had moonshiner doings in both of our families. My great uncle made and sold it in upstate SC, and her grandfather lost a new Packard that was caught hauling it in Florida. It was forfeited under the law,
Good story. Surprise ending….
Love this story Tipper cause it reminds me so much of my dad. He’s not here now. He made some of the best moonshine around. He did it for a living to take care of his family. O there were times the law would come to snoop around . One time me and dad was getting wood. He was sawing and I was putting it in the slead. A man walked up and ask dad if he could go squirrel hunting , dad said y- sure. The man left and I said dad he wasn’t going squirrel hunting, did you see that pistol tuck in his side there? He said yes I seen it snd I know he sent going hunting. We knew what he was up to, he was looking for dad’s still but he wasn’t gonna find it. All kinds of people would come to buy but dad didn’t sell it just to any one, only ones he trusted. There were a couple of cops who came and bought. After my dad passed, me and my older brother went looking for some. we found quiet a bit and we sold it and made us some money. Thanks for bringing back memories.
Shine was made in places other than the mountains. There was an area near Wake Forest known for its liquor making. I was hunting in the area one day and ran into a fellow with a shotgun who told me there was bad blowdown ahead. I knew he was telling me to turn around and head a long ways away. I did!
Along about the same time that Garland writes about, early to mid ’50s, a still was found in the basement of a home in a well-to-do neighborhood near the old Rex Hospital in Raleigh. Fellow made good shine – or so I’m told – and had sources for the sugar without being found out; but he couldn’t hide the smell. A complaint about the smell from a woman a block or 2 away caused the city health folks to investigate and one of them knew the smell of mash going off and alerted the police who called the feds. I delivered his newspaper
Wilkes County was notorious for making a lot of shine. Thunder Road was written about it. A lot of the early NASCAR drivers learned their skills running shine. Norfolk was a favorite market.
The feds got pretty good at finding stills in Wilkes; so a lot of the guys gave up making shine and started growing marijuana. I was in North Wilkesboro on business in the Fall of the year. At breakfast, the dining room of the motel was full of LEOs in camo gear. Later I saw and heard helicopters overhead searching out the small patches hidden on hillsides in the woods. Growing weed was less capital intensive and yielded better profit margins which caused a lot of shine makers to switch.
I want to write this story about a former moonshiner I personally knew in my younger years. The law had got so hot on him he had to move several counties away from where he had lived. It was not long before he was making moonshine again. In the meantime his wife and 9 children had started coming to our church and had gotten save. He would give this testimony and say one Sunday morning he was walking back from his still that he had ran all Saturday night as his family was coming home from church. They all met up at the same time at their home.He said the Lord convicted him right then and there and he came to church with them that night and was also saved. This was about 60 years ago, and from that point on until his death, he was one of the finest Christian men you could ever know. He said he never went back to his still after that Sunday morning. I am proud to call him a friend and say he was an older man I looked up to in my life.
Good story! I didn’t know until I was grown that my pawpaw made liquor…I guess back then you did what you had to do to support your family. There’s a video on YouTube of pawpaw making liquor and pickin “How mountain girls can love”. I think it’s called “moonshine and bluegrass” if anyone wants to look it up. In the video they talk to the sheriff of Rabun Co Georgia and he’s basically saying how he respected pawpaw for working to take care of his family instead of going on welfare…I asked daddy about it and he said the sheriff wasn’t about to say anything bad about pawpaw…he was one of his biggest customers! I said well that figures don’t it?!
Wow! What a story he had to tell. I loved it.
I forgot to add one more thing. If anyone gets the chance, look up Mr. Percy Flowers. He was a legend here in Johnston County. Made a fortune off the stuff.
Gloria, I actually met Percy one day at his store. I spent the first 50 years of my life in Wake County before moving to Texas. He was also known for hosting cock fights.
Mr. Robert, I thought you were from Wake County, I’ve been here in Johnston County my whole life and I have a son living in Clayton and Mr. Percy’s daughter, Becky inherited quite a bit of land and the developments on highway 42 are unreal. Flowers plantation is huge and there is just about a whole town out there. Yes, he sure was known for those cock fights. You can’t live around here without having heard about him that is for sure. I have also heard you mention the Seaboard area and Cameron Village in Raleigh one time. I am from Smithfield, so we made frequent trips to the malls there. Cameron Village, North Hills and Crabtree have all changed so much. I also still have an aunt who lives in Raleigh.
Loved this story! Thank you, Garland, for writing it and thank you Tipper for sharing it with us. In this county, there were stills all over the place and I can remember my husband’s grandma telling me about a time when his granddaddy helped hide some moonshine because they heard the fed’s might be coming around. What she told me was the menfolk took the jars and tied one then another and so on with a long rope and put them in the creek. They were never found. I know where that creek is and knowing his granddaddy, I’m sure they are long gone but my husband and I have always wanted to go there just to see the place. I would not be surprised if there are some stills around now.
My Grandad often stated “the number one job of government is to stay out of my buisness”.
MY EYES ARE WET – I’m smiley and sad and amazed. OMGOSH. What an amazing story. And beautifully written too. Thanks to all involved.
That was a great story! My oh my, how things have changed since then. Now days you can buy that stuff just about anywhere.
Garland told a great story from his memories and we sure appreciate you Tipper for publishing it and others he has shared.
Mr. Davis, I sympathize with you in your vision challenges. I’ve always had some version of them and it is trying. I am gradually coming to accept that I am in a time of adjusting to such capabilities as I have.
I do wonder if some of your Pap’s business associates might have known just where to look for that missing still. That’s not to diminish your loyalty in keeping his secret all these many years. You still have kept it actually because only someone who knew where he lived and could find the case house would have any chance. I think the secret remains as secret as the location of Jonathan Swift’s silver mine.
At the core of moon shining was a bit of rebellion against government intrusion and domination. That it was not displaced then is abundantly evident now. We had served ourselves better to have been more resistant to becoming dependent. We are not the hardy souls our forebearers were.
I except each of those jars you mentioned safely found a home.
My Granpa, Nick Byers was shot by a revenuer near Mt. Pisgah Church @ Warne NC. He escaped and still had the bullet in his side when he died from a farm accident in 1955 about a month shy of 80 y/o. Sometime after he was shot the family moved from Warne to Ivy Log GA.
The part about the baseball pitcher turned sheriff Earnie shore was interesting.
True baseball story, and it shore was interesting. Ernie gave me some tips when I was pitching for my High School team.
Yeah, I misspelled Ernie. Shore did! I do that all the time! My brain says Ern but my fumble fingers want to slip that a in there.
Sorry to hear about your vision problems. I hope you will find a way to read and to write more of your interesting life stories.
I spend a lot of time in bed and use a 10″ Chromebook. It’s hard to see, harder to hear and almost impossible to type on. When I’m up and able I use a 32″ TV as a monitor. I was wondering if a large screen TV would help you. Your computer needs a HDMI port or an adapter.
I think that some of the new smart TVs have built in web browsers but I’m not Shore of it.
Great story. When I was a kid around 9-10 years old I was in the woods across the dirt road from our house. There was a small stream or branch as we called it and I decided to follow it up the holler. After a while I came up on a working still and I knew immediately that I was somewhere I shouldn’t be. I quietly made my way back down a ways then bolted for home. I waited for my dad to get home from work
And told him what I saw. He looked at me very seriously and told me to never go back there and to never say another word about it to anyone. He knew the owner of the property and I went to school with his grand daughter. My dad grew up around and as a young man participated in the “likker” business a little so he knew the unwritten rule of keeping your mouth shut
about such things. We never discussed it again until I was an adult. He remembered the incident and told me it was a good thing I wasn’t seen that day.
I’m glad I took his wise advice that day and never went back up in that holler again.
Great story, reminds me of my grandfather, who I wish I knew more about. I came across a newspaper article about him and a friend that had been caught making shine. They blamed getting caught on the dogs howling and leading the law to their still. They were fined 1000.00 each. That’s a lot of money
in 1917. I often wonder how he came up
with it. I know they left the area shortly
after that and that there was more shine making.
Shine making is a lost art !, Great story !
l grew up with neighbors in the business, last one passed away two years ago. People minded their business when I grew up, lots of people knew what they did but it wasn’t spoken of. Our sheriff back in the 60s wouldn’t destroy the confiscated alcohol, if you had sickness you could go by the jail and he would give you a pint to make medicine with rock candy.
The story didn’t end the way I expected it to. Garland, this was a great story that has left me wondering if it’s true or fiction. I believe it is a true story, as the raids were common back in the day. One of my relatives got a tip to hide the likker she was selling while I was spending the night in the late 60s. She never had a still but did make her own homebrew. The brew was in smaller jars than a gallon and easy to hide. The fast-moving creek was a perfect place for hiding drinks that were not legal to make, drink or possess in our dry county. No one was ever suspicious of a bunch of skinny girls playing in the creek as we carried rocks to weigh something down.
I liked this story. I hated the boy lost his pap that night and the still just got left where it lay and rusted you know. I just saw a copper mash till the other day that was the size of a kids biggest swimming pool about 6 feet across and 4 feet high and well worth several thousand dollars as she sets. The man has been made many offers, but he’s holding tight to it cause it was his grand pappy’s still. If you ever drank moonshine, it can take your breath away. A guy in the Army from NY State was plumb tickled pink when he bought GRAIN legally in Texas. He’d pour big lines of the stuff and light her up! Lol We could talk about revenuers, liquor and so called crime for days I reckon. All I know is the chemicals used to ferment wine, beer and liquor today are poison and will kill your dead. Creative cooking and beverage making is just fine when I think about meth amphetamine being made in bathtubs and cars and can blow up or kill entire neighborhoods, but let’s not discuss that. I feel there’s too many people DICTATING to others how to live when they themselves are more crooked than a dog’s hind leg and dirtier than the devil. STAY OUTA MY BEESWAX revenuer man and all the government for that matter.
Well said, Sadie Belle! Well said.
Garland, that was a wonderful memory you shared with us. Thank you!
Wow! That story packed a punch! Thank you for keeping Garland’s stories alive. I love it!!!
Enjoyed reading this story. He can write a good read as well as he can keep a secret.
A great story about a true vocation in the mountains. My grandfather and uncle both had stills and my uncle ran the moonshine into Tennessee. Once the feds were chasing him on his way back home and he ran off the side of a mountain. He nearly died but did recover. I am not sure if he “shined” or ran shine after that. Mountain people knew how to keep secrets and taught that trait well to their desendents.
I really enjoyed that!
What a great story. Thank you.
I appreciate all the Blind Pig Family who have read my stories. Some of them are true, and others are fiction woven around a core of truth.
I sent the following to Tipper a week ago:
Tipper,
I have meant to write this for a while and feel it best to do it before it is too late. Two years ago, I was diagnosed with Macular Degeneration. My sight has gotten so bad that I can only read or write by expanding the font to the maximum size on a 27-inch monitor.
I have enjoyed the years of learning about Appalachia and Western North Carolina and watching the girls’ growth and your family’s success.
Also, I would like to thank you for publishing my efforts in storytelling.
Garland
Mr. Davis, I have been having problems with my eyes since last fall. It was thought I had a stroke, macular degeneration or bell palsy ( I don’t think I spelled that last one correctly.) I think anxiety over my wife’s death is the root cause of a lot of it. Since March 1, I have had cataract surgery on both eyes. I was told a few hours ago this morning , I now have 20-15 distance vision but can’t see to read anymore with out glasses. I am wearing a pair of reading glasses as I write this. They cost a whopping $1.25 at Dollar Tree, but everything is crystal clear for right now, I will pray for you and also pray for your vision problems to improve. I love your stories and wish you could put them into a collection in the form of a book.
Good Morning Mrs. Tipper.
I sure did enjoy reading that story! I much prefer a short story to a novel any day of the week Thank you so much for your posts. Blessings
Tipper, I loved this story of Grandpap’s still and hope Garland is still alive and thriving. Too bad folks can’t live and let live, couldn’t then and can’t now.
Great story.
That is a GREAT story!!!
I enjoy reading Garland’s stories. If he has not already done so, he needs to write a book with a collection of his stories. I read another story about a local family in my area making moonshine and hiding the jars in the 5gal metal lard cans people would use when killing their hogs and cooking out their lard. Every Saturday morning their mother would kill a hog and pour the hot grease over quart jars of moonshine made by her sons and placed in these buckets. After the grease cooled it would be white and not only cover and hide the jars but also act as a cushion between the jars to keep them from breaking. The boys would deliver the moonshine that evening to their customers. The local sheriff knew all about it and would get him a cut from them, but the Fed’s could never figure it out. The story is titled best lard in Laurens county by John Farris.
Great post today…God Bless
That was an interesting story. A lot of likker used to be made in this area.
I love someone who can keep a secret! LOL