Greensburg Daily News
Greensburg —
Ben Richardson remembers some of the stories told him by Bill about Prohibition and moonshiners. Bill told him, "Back during prohibition you could stand anywhere in Westport and throw a rock and hit a bootlegger's house. But that's what some of 'em had to do to put food on the table." Although many years have passed I've changed names in case family members are sensitive about having an alleged moonshiner ancestor.
Adrian and Wayne were well known bootleggers. Adrian made wine and beer while Wayne made whiskey. Jerry was working at the Standard Station when Wayne came in and yelled, "I wanna gallon-a-gas in a helluva hurry." He left the truck running. In the back of his Model T pickup was something covered securely with a sheet. When Jerry got the gas in, Wayne took off while shouting, "I'll be back'n pay ya' later," and headed east as fast at the Model T could go.
Wayne had gotten word that the Revenuers were in town. Two well-dressed men had stopped at the general store just across the street from the gas station. They didn't identify themselves as Revenue Agents but 'back'n'em' days two strange men in business suits didn't come to Westport in the middle of the week.
They asked where some people lived, including Wayne. When Ben told that story to another man in Westport that man remembered the incident and how Wayne had learned that the G-men were looking for him. The owner's teenage son, and sometime customer of Wayne's, was in the store at the time. He ducked out the back door, ran up to Wayne's house and told him what he'd overheard at the store, giving Wayne the time needed to clean house and get outta town.
John B. had a farm down by the Muscatatuck River southwest of Millhousen and raised sheep. Sometimes he'd come into the gas station with a load of sheep. He'd take 'em to Indianapolis to market. The market was much better there, or so he said. He was very nice to his sheep and always filled the back of his truck with a deep layer of straw so the sheep would stay warm and comfortable.
He often came back home with the sheep still in the truck, saying that the market just wasn't good so he decided not to sell. But the layer of straw wasn't nearly as deep as when he started out. The word was that John had connections in Indianapolis and those connections needed some moonshine. Although the market for his sheep wasn't always good, the moonshine market always was.
Ben said Bill ended his stories with this observation, 'I'm sure that most of those bootleggers would've been glad to work a regular job, but regular jobs were very scarce. Most of them had families and they had to put food on the table.'
Moonshine has been called white lightning or hooch. I've heard that it was called moonshine because people made it by moonlight. Homebrewed beer and wine have been legal since the 1970s but within limits and with proper permits but it can't be sold. I found, and the Sheriff's office interpreted it for me, that making moonshine is illegal in any quantity. That's primarily because taxes aren't collected and it can be deadly for those drinking it. Since Prohibition ended there doesn't appear to be much need for the stuff anyhow.
Even so, I found a 10-gallon Blue Mountain still for sale for $995. It was a custom handcrafted copper still forged in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas. Or, you can but a 20-gallon Irish whiskey still for $7,800. How can somebody sell stills if it's illegal to use it? I have no idea.
There were dangers in making moonshine. One was going to prison but drinking the stuff could cause blindness, paralysis, brain damage and death. If lead solder was used in building the still it could be deadly if enough whiskey was consumed. Explosions sometimes happened; men could be scalded from the building-up of pressure and fires broke out frequently.
In 'Buggies and Bad Times,' Eleanor Arnold quoted a woman from Huntington County, "They had roadhouses back then, and you could buy liquor that was homemade. They had a lot of what they called rotten liquor, and some would just get deathly sick from it." Even children knew what was going on when a seldom traveled road would have a good deal of traffic going by late at night.
Thanks to all who helped with this little series, especially Ben Richardson and the one who wanted to be anonymous.
Please feel free to contact me at patjsmith@verizon.net or at 122 W. Sheridan, Greensburg.
