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Introduction
For the life of me, I don't recall which year. I was a teenager, probably fourteen or fifteen, and a member of the West View Baptist Church youth group. Mom (Betty Lou Wood Ferrell, 11/24/1932-12/27/2000) and another lady, Sandra V., taught and led the youth group. We met in Sunday School before the morning worship service. We enjoyed many youth activities, such as rollerskating and hayrides. Several adult chaperones helped. The youth group was a wonderful, positive, and formative part of my teenage years, back in the 1970s.
The adult chaperones, around one Halloween, arranged a fall hayride and bonfire for the youth group. The bonfire—with roasted marshmallows (marshmellers, as we called them), hot dogs, and Cokes—followed the hayride.
What do a youth hayride and a moonshine still have in common? This twenty-second entry in the Appalachia—Upper East Tennessee Topic Section will explain. This is also about heritage and humor. Inspiration for this article came from “Grandpa’s Still,” Blind Pig & the Acorn, by Garland Davis, published by Tipper, 3/16/2023. Reading that article in the context of this article is highly recommended. I will wait here until you're back from reading that good article.
Church Hayride
As I recall, a couple dozen or more of us teenagers rode in the big hay wagon. An adult chaperone or two rode with us. I think that my mother was one. A man drove the tractor that pulled the wagon. As dusk approached darkness, the hayride started.
We rode off a two-lane highway and along various dirt roads, which were lined by trees, ridges, and fields. Singing, talking, and joking, we were enjoying a great time! I probably had a liking for a young lady or two. In shyness, I probably tried to do some subtle courting. Yes, I was shy until my junior year in high school, when my Irish blarney started rolling off my glib, Irish tongue!
After a good, long ride, the tractor driver found an open area to turn the hayride around for the food and bonfire. He found an open gate in a field that was near someone's barn.
Moonshine Still
As we began to circle around behind the barn to make the return loop, the driver pushed the tractor into high gear and shouted, “Hang on!” The wagon jerked, causing most of us to roll backward in the hay! I was glad that the wagon had wooden sideboards; otherwise, some of us may have fallen off the wagon. Riding in high gear, we hung onto each other or to the sideboards until the hay wagon was safely back onto a dirt road.
“What happened? Why did we have to go so fast?” we had asked and wondered. Just before the tractor jumped into high gear, I noticed, near the back of that barn, something that looked like a big barrel with pipes on it. I didn't know what it was at first.
Safely back onto the dirt road, the driver said, “Did you see that still? Someone has a moonshine still behind the barn! We had to get out of there!” Well, no wonder! I was glad that no one was making moonshine at the time! Coming upon someone making moonshine, even by accident, could have been very dangerous, even on a church hayride.
Conclusion
Almost everyone born and raised in Appalachia had a moonshiner in the family or a moonshine story to tell. Thanks to Tipper for inspiring this story by sharing Garland Davis' story.
“Fallen off the wagon” usually means that someone has started drinking again. As a teenager, I was glad that none of us young'uns had “fallen off the wagon” when the tractor driver high-geared us away from that still!
Do I hear you laughing? I thought so!
1 comment:
Yes, I was laughing twice! Garland Davis' article made me laugh. Yours did too.
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