Occupation: Moonshiner

Location: In the home of Mr. McCoy, Outside of Spruce Pine, NC

Date: August 18, 1932

Interviewer: Joe Houchin
 
 

So you want ta’ hear something about moonshining young fella? Well, ya came to right person. Ain’t no better liquor made in the Appalachians than what comes outta my stills. People are willing to pay a pretty decent price even during these times. ‘Fore I go any further, you ain’t a revenuer are you? Where’d you say you were from, and who’s your daddy? Are you kin to the Houchins over in Clinton, Tennessee?

After assuring Lester that I wasn’t with the Internal Revenue Service. I told him I was related to the Houchins in Clinton and we went over my family background. This seemed to satisfy him.

Well, my father taught me shinin’ and nobody’s ever had a better teacher. I bet you’ll wanna know how it’s done, writers always want to know the details. First off, you need three barrels to do it. The first one is large, the second is smaller than the first, and the third is smaller than the other two. For a small still like mine the first barrel is gonna be about 50 or so gallons. Then you take the corn and grind it into a meal and get it kneaded into a stiff dough. Then you just let it sit there and after a while it goes sour. This is what us shiners call "sour mash". When it gets to be sour you boil it while stirring with a three pronged that has wire mesh between the prongs. You’ll stir that stuff up until it’s about the consistency of gravy. The sour mash will go through some pipes until it gets to the second barrel, which is the condenser. Finally it travels to the third barrel which is the cooler. The liquor drips out of a pipe attached to the cooler. This is 100 % alcohol and we have to add water to make it drinkable. I can take $7.83 worth of corn and sugar and turn it into $80.11 worth of liquor. It ‘ould be powerful hard to make a living round here without shine. Folks hers bouts are poor. We all have little farms, but there ain’t no market for anything we grow. Makin’ shine outta my extra corn shore is more profitable than haulin’ it twenty or thirty miles to the railroad. That’s why our line of work is the only one thats worth a darn around here. Shore is easier to cart around a gallon of shine than twenty bushels of corn. Don’t need no government tellin’ me what I can and can’t do with my own corn on my own land. It’s my cash crop!

A lot o’ folks think that all moonshiners are just a bunch of rough-necked rebels. Truth is, I’m a real religious man and can quote the Old Testament like the back of my hand. I’m not a regular at church but every time I pass one I take off my hat to show respect. Even though I only went to school until third grade I really respect the education system they’ve got here in North Carolina. I’m about 60 something years old but I can still work like I’m twenty. I’m also quite a ladies man, if I do say so myself. HeHe! I’ve more than once been able to get a younger woman with my charm and square dancin’ skills. (He said this as he straightened his shirt and ran his hands through his hair.) As anyone around these parts will tell you, I’m a tough old codger. Yup, nobody pushes me around. We’ve had some family rivalries out here and I can tell you it ain’t no friendly rivalry. There’s been more than a few deaths out here due to it. The only law us country folks live by is that if anyone ever messes with you or your kin kill, ‘em. Then deny it for the rest of your life.

Moonshining is what you might call a family tradition for me. My great-grandfather was probably a shiner’ and my grandfather and father definitely were. Cousin Jimmy got so good at the bootlegging part of it that he’s now drivin’ stock cars down in Charlotte. Jimmy always was good with a machine. He souped up that ol’ Chevy pickup and could outrun near everybody in these parts, includin’ the law. Jimmy plumb fell in love with fast cars, always was a dare devil. He makes almost as much money racin’ cars as I do here. I started helping my father at eight years old and I was in the business for my self by 14. My father was what a lot of people might call a colorful character. Once the police confiscated his still. In retaliation my dad rounded up a few of his friends and held up the police station. They tied up all the coppers, tied the still to a mule and made their get away. After that episode they just started bustin’ up the stills on the spot. Hehe, those are some of the best parts of moonshining, all the fun you have. I’ve killed five people, been in the federal pen long term…twice, and have a rap sheet as long as your arm. All this is worth it though ‘cause of all the money you can haul in with a couple gallons of liquor.

Shinin’ will bring in more than the best legit job during these hard times. I look at folks who are starving and here I am with enough money to be comfortable. I wish what I do wasn’t illegal but it’s the only way to make money. There’s a huge demand for moonshine so its not any problem selling it. Heck, even the cops are buying it from me ‘cause the laws are so lax in these parts of the state. I’d say I’m better off than I’ve ever been during this here depression cause of moonshining.