Papaws House

My grandfather (Papaw) was a bootlegger (not to be confused with moonshiner) in a dry county in MS in the 60s. There were cases of liquor in a cargo truck parked in his backyard and additional 'inventory' in the basement of the house. The backyard wasn't really a yard at all. It was more like a dirt driveway. There were a couple of sheds, a pump house for the well, and numerous car parts and other junk strewn about. It was really more of a salvage yard. The location was about 10 or 15 miles out of town with no close neighbors; no busy body around to disrupt business. As far as I know Papaw was 'self-employed' his whole life. He would sit in his easy chair with his left leg swung over the arm of the chair and watch TV. Numerous times throughout the day there would be a knock on the door and Papaw would yell, "Come on in!" I say 'yell' but he was just making sure whoever was at the door heard him. The "Come on in!" had a friendly, inviting tone. After the visitor opened the door Papaw would get up and if they were a 'customer' they'd both walk around back, do a transaction, then Papaw would come back inside, sit down, and continue watching TV. For him it was like running a normal liquor store.


Papaw also traded guns and used cars. In the front yard there would always be four or five cars parked vertically along the shoulder of the highway like a car dealership. In the house there would be rifles and shotguns leaning in the every corner of the living room. There was also a gun rack with a few guns and several revolvers in the drawer of the gun rack. I don't recall ever seeing an automatic rifle or pistol. My faded memory tells me that Papaw dealt exclusively in bolt action and lever action rifles, shotguns (mostly break-down but a few pumps), and revolvers. Not a single one of those firearms was ever loaded but whoa to any of us kids that dared to play with one of those pieces. There was also a briefcase full of cash under Papaw's bed. Seriously; it was full of cash like what you see in movies.


One day the sheriff came by. Papaw and the sheriff chatted cordially for a few minutes and as the sheriff was leaving Papaw gives him a small-sized folded up grocery bag. As the sheriff is pulling out Papaw grins at me and says, "we all gotta pay our taxes". At the time, I didn't have a clue what that meant.


We were watching a documentary on John Dillinger in the living room at Papaw's house. I was sitting on the floor and Papaw, as usual was in his easy chair with his left leg propped over the arm of the chair. As we're watching Mamaw steps in from the kitchen and says something about how Papaw and Dillinger used to be good friends. Papaw immediately yells, "Hush, Evie!" It could be that I misread the verbal exchange but somehow Papaw's response made me believe Mamaw. Years later a Great Aunt (Papaw's sister) was telling me about the day a visitor came and stayed a while. She was a kid at the time and this would have been at my Great Grandfathers farm. On this day a stranger came walking up the drive and my Great Grandfather says "Here comes Public Enemy Number One." According to my Aunt he wasn't joking. My Aunt never got the visitors name but maybe...