Moonshine (often corn liquor from a still) was a prime source of income for many in the southern Appalachian mountains. Its history partly derives from Scots/Irish immigrants to the United States who settled in the region, and brought with them the recipe for a popular drink called uisce beatha or uisge beatha – a phrase that literally means “water of life.” The practice of making moonshine was illegal during the Prohibition years of the 1920s, but continued to flourish in part thanks to distillers hiding their stills in underground caverns (for example, in the Great Smoky Mountains they used the Forbidden Caverns in Sevierville, Tennessee).
Souped-up cars able to travel fast on the backroads to avoid local authorities were another tool employed by enterprising moonshiners and their partners. If caught by the law with a load of illegal booze, the penalties could be severe, not the least of which was the unrecoverable loss of income from the run. From the hot pursuits in these cars came the seeds of another legendary Southern pastime: NASCAR racing with its “modified” and “roadster” classes, which was founded by William France, Sr., on February 21, 1948.
Even moonshine customers traveling to get ‘shine could be a family affair. My grandfather, who grew up in Mississippi during the Prohibition years, recalled visits with his father to a local moonshiner, in which they would be invited to a family meal where warmed “toddies” were offered as a beverage choice to the kids: moonshine laced with sugar.
He recalled how the family meal took place with everyone sitting around a long, wooden table in the main room of a shack (think handmade shanty, and you get the idea). The table was packed with family members—including other kids belonging to the moonshiner—with the kids having a choice of beverage, including water, lemonade, and these “toddies.” Needless to say, the times have changed since the thought of giving hard liquor to kids was regarded as a practice some considered “normal.” On the several hours’ return trip home, the mason jars containing the moonshine would be hidden in the car. In addition to being a regular moonshine customer, my great-grandfather was also a Justice of the Peace for a time in Mississippi—make of that what you will. Prohibition was repealed eventually, and it’s not like there aren’t places today where you can get a good pint or two of moonshine. Maybe the only thing different about the “white lightning” available today is that the labels are much fancier.
Years later, my grandfather, by this time in his 70s, brought a jug of Mississippi moonshine to a family Christmas holiday party for all of us to sample and enjoy (including yours truly). Some family traditions never change—they just get better with age.
