MEMORIES OF FRIENDS AND MOONSHINE

 

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Photo Copyright: J. Hardy Carroll

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction–February 5th, 2017. Each week the host, Al Forbes, provides or chooses a picture prompt. The challenge for each member of the group is to write an original story or poem with no more than 200 words, not including the title and inspired by the prompt. This week’s prompt was supplied by J. Hardy Carroll. Thanks, J. Hardy. 

To read the other stories written by the group members, just click on the link below, then on the little blue frog in the blue box.

The link to the other stories this week is as follows:

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/02/05/sunday-photo-fiction-february-5th-2017/

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 200 Words

MEMORIES OF FRIENDS AND MOONSHINE by P.S. Joshi

When Lucy, a school friend of mine, was on summer vacation her parents, older brother, and she used to spend every vacation her father had with the relatives in the hills of West Virginia.

West Virginia is a beautiful state but there just weren’t enough jobs for everyone. Families used to move north to Ohio or Michigan to work in the rubber shops or for car manufacturers. They got homesick and took trips back to West Virginia whenever possible.

Sometimes just an older son would make the move, work during the week, and drive back for the weekend.

Once a friend of mine who worked for the Chevy plant said, “The guys I work with asked if I was going home for the weekend.”

This fellow, an Ohioan, lived at home within a short driving distance.

My school friend told me family neighbors down there made moonshine.

“When the revenuers came around,” she said, “the guys used to hide the liquor in the well.”

I thought it was hilarious and could see them scrambling.

Moonshine was sometimes transported in a car with a special tank underneath. A popular movie in 1958 starring Robert Mitchum, “Thunder Road” was about the subject.

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14 thoughts on “MEMORIES OF FRIENDS AND MOONSHINE

    • Thanks, Diana. I don’t ever remember tasting it either. It couldn’t be good for you as strong as it is. I suppose it depends how strong a constitution a person has, though. If I drank any now it would probably be the end of me. I’m happy you enjoyed the story. 🙂 — Suzanne

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    • Thanks, Bernadette. It is beautiful. I can understand why they get homesick when they leave to find work. You’re right. Jobs weren’t plentiful when the coal was running out and they did what they could to make money so they could stay. In later years I’ve heard some have turned to growing marijuana. A person has to be careful where they walk in some places. It can be dangerous if a grower is scared and mean. They won’t have a problem if it’s legalized. I’m happy you enjoyed the story. 😀 — Suzanne

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  1. This brought back a memory from this past summer. While on vacation in Naples, Florida, I decided to visit the Everglades Museum, which I’d seen online. Turned out to be a a building which was once the laundromat, and the museum was a one-level room about 20 x 40 feet. Still, I learned a lot about life before the Tamiami Trail was built, back when the Everglades folks were called “Crackers” and moved there, despite the hardships, to try to avoid the warring going on elsewhere. The Crackers lived in peace with the Native Americans, though they were looked down upon by the rest of the country. And they knew the “10,000 islands” well — which came in handy when the military came looking for draft-evaders.

    Anyway, they were known for their particular version of moonshine, which they dubbed “Low-Bush Lightning.” I just loved that name. And I had the same images, Patricia, when I saw the still setups and read about the measures they went through when the stray Prohibition Officer ventured into the swamps. Quite the life.

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    • Thanks, Erik. That was interesting. I’ve heard the term “Crackers” but didn’t know exactly who it referred to. I love that term “Low-Bush Lightening”. I’d read about the Native Americans who lived in that area. People will do what they have to do to survive. If you’re referring to the American Civil War, a great grandfather of mine escaped it because he was still an English citizen so took his young Irish wife and moved temporarily to Canada. It was a horrible war. Some of the wealthy paid their way out by hiring poorer men to fight for them. Some of the soldiers were simply cannon fodder. Many died in hospitals. —- Suzanne

      Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, Mandi. It was their livelihood at the time. I heard some of them switched to growing marijuana in later years. I knew of someone who lived in a small house in the mountains where it had been grown inside by a previous occupant. I’m happy you enjoyed the story. 😀 — Suzanne

      Liked by 1 person

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