Of Baptists and Bootleggers: Remembering My Moonshine-Making Ancestors

Many years ago, my uncle, Clinton Barbra, looked out his front window and saw a police car idling at the end of his driveway. The car sat there for a moment, and then pulled away. My uncle ran out the back door of his house, went into the trees, and started pulling apart his still. … Continue reading Of Baptists and Bootleggers: Remembering My Moonshine-Making Ancestors