Continuing from "Of Hearth And Hoe" by Bonnie Heiskell Peters:
"Although the government began to clamp down on the illegal handling of sugar by requiring store operators to keep records of sugar purchases, there was still little problem in obtaining sugar. Store operators simply juggled their books and falsified their reports. Often merchants sold sugar to still operators and received payment for sugar plus a bonus for allowing the purchase to be made.
Many stills were started in the county and soon abandoned, but others were set up and operated for a number of years without interference. In most communities neighbors knew who made whiskey and gave tacit support. Some may have taken the law into their own hands by destroying stills which they found on their property. In most cases if a farmer found a still on his land he made an effort to find the owner and asked him to remove it. Others took immediate action. As late as the 1940s, one woman discovered that her cows had staggered to the barn at milking time. It took her only a few minutes to figure out the cause. She took an ax from the wood yard and searched the ridge until she found a still. Without any investigation, she smashed it and destroyed the mash that the cattle had not consumed.
Men were not by themselves in the manufacture of illegal whiskey. A woman in Kettle Hollow, the moonshine center of the county, served as the chief manufacturer while her husband disposed of the product. Other women dealt in the manufacture, sale, and transportation of illegal whiskey. As the daughter of one whiskey woman related, 'this was the only means which a mother had of feeding, clothing, and sending us to school.'"
These articles are dedicated to the memory of a true Union County historian, my father, Norman Collins. The final part of the moonshining series will follow.