“Preacher, you go back and get that little girl.” The old lady wouldn’t let him stay and visit until he returned home and got that little girl.
The little girl
Granny, as she was called by most, was an old Southern lady who lived in our small community. If Daddy had the sniffles or coughed in front of her, she would go off into the back room and come back with a dose of some magic tonic to cure his ailments. She would send a little bit home with him to finish the job. Apparently, the magic tonic contained moonshine or some other home brew. I imagine it was straight moonshine with a shot of honey.
There were moonshiners in that part of country who had stills hidden in the woods. The Sheriff received a tip about one in operation nearby. He stopped at the neighbor’s house up the road and asked the neighbor to go with him to check it out. They searched through the woods and finally uncovered the still. There among the bottles and tubes were some tools the Sheriff confiscated before he busted up the still. Maybe that evidence would identify the moonshiner.
The Preacher
The Sheriff didn’t know who the still belonged to, but our neighbor figured it out! Just a few days before, unbeknown to him, he lent his tools to the owner of the still. Needless to say, our neighbor did not claim ownership but instead went and bought new tools.
For some reason, the neighbor felt the need to tell his story to someone. Maybe he wanted to clear himself in case he was somehow linked to the “evidence” in the Sheriff’s office. He recounted the story to the preacher who was known to hold confessions in confidence. I guess his conscience was clear and he was satisfied someone knew the truth.
Hmmm…. I wonder if Granny was shy a batch of shine that year. Naaaaa, she had her own tools.