The Red Flannel Rag

Mom often bragged about one of my first cousins, Gifford Payne, “He jumped ou t

schoolhouse window when he saw the revenuers drive down the road. They saw him

and caught him before he got away. They said, ‘Hey boy, could you tell us where we

could find some moonshine?’ Gifford told ‘em, ‘I wouldn’t tell you where you could find

‘shit water’.’”

The revenue officers changed their tactics and began to come into Hopkins Gap

as undercover agents. One officer came disguised as a watermelon peddler. He drove a

wagon filled with watermelons down the road through Hopkins Gap and traded

watermelons for whiskey wherever possible.

Aunt Goldie, Mom’s sister, and Aunt Lena, my dad’s sister, were caught trading

moonshine to the “watermelon man.” The year was 1940, because Lena had just given

birth to her son, Jennings. Goldie and Lena were taken to jail to await their trial. Aunt

Lena was breastfeeding Jennings. The baby’s daddy had to drive him to the jail four

times a day to get his feeding. Finally, the health department discovered that an infant

was going to jail to breastfeed and forced the sheriff to let Aunt Lena go free. For some

reason, Aunt Goldie was released at the same time. Neither woman was ever brought to

trial.

It was not uncommon for the wives of jailed moonshiners to take over the

business while their husbands were aw ay. My daddy’s sister, Aunt Vernie and Aunt

Hazel, Uncle Jim’s wife, hired some local boys to help with the heavy work and managed

to maintain the family income until their husbands returned from jail.

Once the revenue agent lost his cover as a watermelon man, other agents devised

new tactics to catch the moonshiners. No matter what disguise they tried, they were

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