White Lightnin!

[LazyBkpr]

   I was Fresh out of the Navy, and Fresh out of a divorce when I went to Alabama to visit a buddy from the Navy..   First. let me tell you that when someone yells HAY at you in Alabama that you shouldn't get offended, its their way of saying HI.. if theres mor than One of you they say Hey Yall  and that covers greetings for everyone so they dont have to say hay a whole bunch of times....

   So My Buddy I will heretofore call Bama1 takes me out for a ride..  were runnin down the road at a decent clip, yelling back and forth at each other over his Big Block Chevy.. when a car full of kids passes us, and give us the finger as they do so...     Well, then the race was on, and sadly, whatever they wre driving was no match for the big block..   Were still giggling at the stupid looks on their faces when we passed them at about 140 mph as we walk into the gas station to get the groceries for Bama1's wife..
   When we come out of the station.. guess whos waiting for us?   Bama1 hands me his bag of groceries and confronts the big teen that had gotten out of the car.. and moments later said teen is laying on the ground..  At which point the driver starts yelling, and Bama one walks over to the car window..  a scuffle ensues through the window, and a few moments later the car is peeling out of the parking lot with the Big teen hanging out of the door and Bama1 walks back to me with a BIG grin on his face, showing me the prize he snagged.. a .22 revolver the driver had pulled on him.........
   It was a bit of a relief to arrive safely back at his house and deliver the groceries...
   Next day.. we go hunting out on Mu's land.. Mu as it was explained to me was the still living family Matriarch, or Grandmother, and she had five hundred acres of land that apparently we could hunt any time of the year....
   So were walking down the trail on Mu's land.. and we hear engines...   Bama1 takes off running yelling for me to follow, which I do...  We jump into a brush pile, and he pokes his head up as the engines come to the clearing we had been about to set up in for hunting..  Three dirt bikes and two three wheelers (there were no four wheel atv's at that time) pull in, and shut off the engines..  I watch, as I listen to Bama1 swear profusely at the dirty so and so's riding here with NO permission to do so! My attention peaked when I heard the lever action cycle on his 30/30. I reluctantly turn my head to see him drawing a bead, and open my mouth to say something.. ANYTHING to keep him from killing somone..  But, thats when the gun went off, and all HE11 broke loose.. People were scrambling over top of each other, yelling swearing and starting whatever ride happened to be closest to them...   Every single one of them COVERED with beer.. (I'll get to that in a moment.) All the while.. Bama1 is nearly hysterical..   He has fallen to his behind in the brush, and has tears rolling down his face... as he holds his stomach...  It only takes moments for the silence to return. The fading sound of engines revving to their max can still be faintly heard in the distance..  I am still a little stunned, and felt a wee bit light headed as I carefully lower the bolt on the 7mm Mauser I was carrying.. I didnt even remember putting a round in the chmaber..   I followed Bama1 to the trail where he examines the booty.. A hat, a shoe, A cooler still half filled with beer and ice.... and what remained of a sixpack that had take a 30/30 round.
   One of them had taken it from the cooler, and set it on top, and THAT, had been Bama1's target, naturally, he did not miss, but I have ALWAYS wondered how many of those riders had pieces of aluminum beer cans stuck in their bodies...
   So..  to make a long story a little longer..  No deer that day, so the tally was only one dead sixpack of PBR..  Bama1 takes me for a ride again, to meet a cousin of his...  it is a bit of a drive, and we end up on a red dirt road..  In Alabama, the dirt is RED, not black like its supposed to be..  Pretty soon, the red dirt gives way to two tire tracks through weeds..   Seemingly at random. Bama1 pulls off the road into MORE weeds..   These weeds are thick and like 7 foot tall!  I argue with the weeds blocking my door, and eventually get out of the car.. I walk around the car, and realize.. theres a pickup five feet in front of the car...  Kinda looks like its been there a few years, but it turns out it was a functioning vehicle with Bama2 sleeping int he front seat.. He pokes his head out and squints..  "Ahh, its you Bama1..  Be careful.. Bama3 is on watch. Papaw told him to shoot anyone he didnt know or was confused about."
   PaPaw Is apparently the opposite of Mu on the other side of the family. One is Bama1's Wifes grandmother, the other one is Bama1's Grandfather..  Although, i have no evidence or proof any of them were factually related and were only referring to someone ELSES grandmother or grandfather...............
   We fight our way back to the trail and walk from here. We walk until its starting to get dark, and then this BIG Hickerbilly we are calling Bama3 stepps out of the weeds with an OLD ten gauge side by side leveled and both hammers pulled back.. Bama1 speaks up quickly...   "Its just Bama1 and friend Bama3."
   Bama3 lifts his head from behind the old gun.. I swear it had Damascus barrels...   "That really You Bama1?"
  "This is where it gets sort of scary,,.......
   "No, Actually I am Bama4, but Bama1 couldnt make it so i took his place....."
   Bama3's head goes back down behind the gun.. which had NEVER wavered, and he speaks softly..   "Your confusing me Bama1.."
    Thats when i started to sweat...   Sweat that had NOTHING to do with the fact that it was now DARK and it was still 105 degrees.. SWEAT, as in.. a 7 foot RING of Red Dirt road became red MUD road...
   "Easy Bama3, you KNOW who I am, I am just giving you crap."
   Bama3 pops his head up again..  "You know, you ought not give me so much crap Bama1. One of these days I might not know your kidding.....
   I was still leaving a trail of mud two hundred yards later... Debating on if I should ask how close we just came to becoming ONE with the red dirt road...  So there are no more exciting parts to the visit...  We arrive at destination, DEEP on private property.. Three buildings, one of them containing a still..   I asked if I could ask questions, and was given the go ahead.. To THIS DAY I am quite certain I can distill my own alcohol... Them good ol boys LOVED to talk about what they knew, and I had a MOST memorable time, for a short time... PaPaw, Rhu, and BillyBob became my best friends EVER after only ONE drink off the jug they passed around..
   No taste? How the Heck would you know if it had taste? The moment it hits your tongue it KILLS ever cell on the surface and ignites liquid fire all the way down your throat!   Yeah, breathe IN through your nose, and OUT through your mouth!!!   Great! That way you can INHALE the flames bellowing from your LIPS!

   When i was about 12 or 13.. My Grandfather handed me a beer while we were fishing.. I dutifully told him i didnt think My mom would like it if I drank..   He replied.. "If your going to be an Alcoholic, you may as well get started now."   (My grandfather owned the local tavern) So i have been drinking from a younger age than most..    I distinctly remember taking a swig off that jug three times. I am told I managed FIVE...  I was NOT told it is called SIPPIN WHISKEY for a reason, much to the amusement of my new found best friends..
   I was also told that Bama3 carried me out all by himself, and that he wasnt happy about it..   Which is why...   I mean, Fortunately, I had to LEAVE the very next day....
   I have NEVER touched white lightning again....  That was over 30 years ago, and to this day I have NO desire to put something in my mouth that makes me GUESS when i have swallowed....

   I hear from my friend on occasion..  I am told, that Alabama is a lot different today, than it was back then..   However.. I have a feeling, that if you get lost on a red dirt road, you MIGHT just recognize the Damascuss barrels on that old ten gauge!

[Jen]

Good Story!

One time, back in the day when we were first married and hubby worked the graveyard shift at the local lumber mill (those were the days my friend), he brought home a small bottle of white lightnin.' The next afternoon he told me what it was and offered the bottle to me. No problem! I liked vodka just fine. Shrugged and tood swig, lowered the bottle and stared at him for a nano second.... and then went cross eyed...

[Bamabww]

Interesting. Sounds like they needed more rye in the mash, from someone who has lived in Alabama all his life and a 4th generation moonshiner. Now retired.

[lazy shooter]

Those Mississippi-Alabama boys love those "twice barrel, side by side" shotguns.  I spent my teenage years in East Texas, where there was a lot of moonshine, but I never tasted it.  There was one old guy that actually ages his "shine" in red oak barrels, and it was said that he made good tasting shine.  I think all of the stills are long gone, as East Texas has become way too populated.

[iddee]

Sounds like the shotgun was more for his past customers than the law. If the shine had been good, you could have drank it with little or no burn, and not gotten drunk until you changed what you were doing. IE: If sitting and sipping, don't get up.  "You can't".    If you are active, don't sit down.

[Bamabww]

Those Mississippi-Alabama boys love those "twice barrel, side by side" shotguns. 

    I have 4 of them, 2 with hammers, 2 without. 

[kebee]

 Might as well add my 2 cents here, growing up in north Georgia as a kid I tasted my first moonshine between 8 and 10 years old. A second cousin came by one day when I was down by the spring. He took a swig of it and handed it to me I said no and of course he double dare me to drink some, oh boy was I glad I was near the spring for after I thought I was on fire and I fell head first in the spring trying to get the burning to stop, no more after that. There was a moonshine still I would say every 2 miles apart or closer, in fact my dad made it also.
 He worker at a saw mill delivering lumber and this one time they had 3 barrels of moon shine loaded on the truck with lumber all around it to look like a lumber load. On the way to Canton Ga to sell it we came upon a narrow bridge with a car already on it and a woman with child walking on it at the same time. We came upon the bridge from a hill and curve so dad had to run off the road and wrecked the truck so as not to hit the woman and child. He picked me up and we ran and caught a ride back home and he went to sheriff office and told them some one had stole his truck, got out of that one.


Ken

[Bamabww]

It's been 40 years since I've drank any moonshine but I don't remember ours setting you on fire when you drank it. It was a smooth taste, much smoother than Jack Daniel's. Of course, being Southern Baptist, we only used it for medicinal purposes unlike those Northern Baptist who used it as drinking whiskey etc. 

Not to hijack Scott's thread but after we eased out of the medicinal whiskey making business, I carried my dad to the Jack Daniel's Distillery in Lynchburg, Tennessee. He was amazed at the way they distilled their whiskey and really enjoyed the tour until we went thru the room where the guide explains what ingredients goes into making JD Whiskey. The biggest difference in their whiskey and ours was the use of corn where we used sugar.  After the guide finished his talk and everyone filed out to the next stop on the tour, my dad asked the guide while we were alone, "I saw your ingredients but I didn't see any sugar, why don't you use sugar in your whiskey?"

The guide, turned around, spit on the ground and said, "sugar in whiskey! That's no good Alabama whiskey, not JD Tennessee Whiskey" and turned back around and left. My dad caught up with him and said in front of everybody, "By God, I've made whiskey all my life and I've put sugar in it and so did my dad and his dad before him, don't tell me it's not good whiskey just because it's got sugar in it."

Dad left the tour and of course I followed him. He was ready to head back to Alabama but I managed to talk him into going by the place where they give you a cup of their lemonade. We looked around at the museum and the guide and the rest of the tour came in while we were there.  The guide, grinning, stuck out his hand and dad took it and grinned back. The handshake was enough, nothing was said and that's the way it ended. 

[Jen]

Good Story's you guys. I keep thinking of the Baldwin sisters and thier 'recipe' on The Walton's. Well Heck! They both lived to be 100 years old.  I still love to watch that show

[Gypsi]

 just bought a 20 guage side by side shotgun at the gun show a couple of weeks ago. no hammers. It's an antique made in spain. I remember riding with my dad when he went to the moonshiner's on a sunday, but I've never tasted shine...  Great story Lazy!

[LazyBkpr]

   I grew up a country boy, and I saw some pretty rough things.. I've seen undesirable people run out of town, and I've seen a police officer stripped buck neked by 30 angry farmers and made to WALK back to his station  where his car and clothing was waiting for him..   My Grandpa owned the local tavern, and I grew up watching the fights...   Its a SMALL town, and there aint nothing to do here, so going to the neighboring towns to find pretty girls OR a good fight was not uncommon..   Running 100 mph on gravel roads while trying to pass or be passed by your buddies was not uncommon..  we wrecked, we got hurt, we got carried home from a few fights, and once in a while we met a really sweet little gal...   So at a ripe old 21 years old, Fresh out of active Duty and back from overseas I thought I had seen a thing or two...   Them boys from down south got the crazy DNA from both sides rather than ONE side like most of the rest of us...

[Slowmodem]

Them boys from down south got the crazy DNA from both sides rather than ONE side like most of the rest of us...

Famous last words:  "Hold my beer and watch this!"

[brooksbeefarm]

My uncle by marriage (married my moms sister) had a brother and uncle killed and burned in a log cabin along with there Still, in St.Clair, co. Mo. early 1900's. Story goes they were selling white lightning in Kansas City, Mo. an got into the wrong territory? I ask my uncle if they ever found out who killed Evan and Burly a year before he died, he said jack,that was taken care of years ago, and there isn't a statues of limitations on murder, and that's all i'm going to say about that?? ( he was the last living member of the family) He was like a second father or older brother to me, my father died in 1977 and he passed in 2004, him and his family treated me like i was one there's. The white lightning story above is Folk lore in the Collins and Osceola,Mo. area, alot of theories and exaggerated stories from locals are still flying around, but it still remains a mystery??? Jack
PS. this was back in the depression days and my uncle said they would have lost the farm and everything if it wasn't for selling white lightning.

[LazyBkpr]

  I recall great uncles talking about "The Chicago Run."  Flathead V8's scrounged from stolen/wrecked cars etc, etc..  I wish I could go back in time, just one hour to talk to them and ask them questions. It seems such a waste for all of those memories to be so completely lost..

[Jen]

Does anyone remember the thread where we first started talking about this, I know we were highjacking...

[riverbee]

i think jen, it's here? .......

Ooh that smell

[Jen]

Yup! That it  Thanks Riv

Brought this story over from 'Ooh That Smell'

My dad remembered when he was 6 years old, he would be allowed to go for a ride into the Oklahoma forest with his dad and uncles. They would give my dad 25 cents, and he would go into the woods to a house and buy a quart of white lightning. He would bring it back to his dad and uncles and they would fill the cap of the bottle with the white lightning and give it to my dad. He loved it. It ruined the rest of his life, but he said he felt like he was part of the big men when he got his capful.

Another tid bit about this story is when my 6 year old dad went up to the door to exchange 25cents for a quart of white lightning, the man who came to the door was without legs. All's he had was the trunk of his body, arms, head. He maneuvered the trunk of his body around on a wooden platform with wheels. Dad said he had never seen the likes of such a thing, and never forgot it.

That would make such a cool character in a movie ~