Exhibit distills mystique of moonshine

By DANIEL NEMAN
MEDIA GENERAL NEWS SERVICE
Published: May 9, 2008

Scholars and folklorists talk of moonshine’s irresistible mystique.
Songs have been written about running moonshine ("There was moonshine, moonshine, to quench the devil’s thirst/The law they swore they’d get him but the devil got him first"), movies have been shot about it - and even a major comic strip was about a character who illegally distilled alcohol.

IF YOU GO
Where: Virginia Historical Society, 428 North Boulevard, Richmond, Va.
When: Through Sept. 22
Hours: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday-Saturday; 1 to 5 p.m. Sunday
Admission: $5 adults, $4 seniors, $3 students. Free admission for children under 18.
Details: (804) 358-4901 or www.vahistorical.org

“Everyone imagines moonshiners out there as being Snuffy Smith,” said Andrew Pauly, exhibit coordinator with the Blue Ridge Institute.
Some people are still making moonshine, but their operations now tend to be on a much bigger scale, using technology. Gone are the ramshackle copper pots of lore; in 1993, one moonshine operation discovered by authorities was capable of making almost 29,000 gallons at a time.
The Virginia Historical Society has an exhibition about one of the Blue Ridge region’s favorite illicit products, “Moonshining in the Blue Ridge,” covering the history of illegal distilling as well as the mystique.
Distilling - the process of cooking alcohol out of fermented fruit or grains and then cooling the steam until it turns back into liquid - has been practiced for at least 3,000 years, beginning in Asia. It has been going on in Virginia since 1620, just 13 years after the first settlers landed in Jamestown.
But what makes moonshining moonshining is the element of illegality. Moonshiners practice their art as a way not to have to dodge government taxes on alcohol. It all began in the mid-1600s, when the British began taxing whiskey. In America, a tax to help pay for the Revolution led to the violent Whiskey Rebellion of 1791-1794.
“The love of liquor and the desire to evade taxes are two of man’s strongest urges. In this exhibit, they are combined into one phenomenon,” said James Kelly, the Historical Society’s director of museums.
The exhibit includes a couple of actual stills - a small turnip still, the squat, round still that is usually pictured in folklore, and a larger blackpot still. Both worked the same way, by building a fire under a pot of fermented grain or fruit. The fruit was typically apples or peaches, yielding apple or peach brandy.
The moonshiner would stir this fermented mixture until it reached 173 degrees Fahrenheit, the boiling point for ethyl alcohol. The pot would then be capped and the steam would escape into a coiled copper tube, cooling the steam and condensing it back into liquid - white lightning.
The difference between the two types of stills, Pauly said, is that the raw ingredients would be fermented in barrels for the turnip still and then poured into the still. In the blackpot stills, the fermentation took place inside the still itself, using the fermented leftovers from previous batches (this residue, called slop, would be cleaned out of the turnip stills).
A moonshiner could brew a much bigger batch, and much faster, with the blackpot still. But according to Pauly, this efficiency led to a compromised taste.
“The stigma is that it’s firewater, and people think that is what it’s supposed to taste like,” he said.
One plaque in the exhibit quotes Franklin County moonshiner Homer Philpott saying, “It ain’t made to drink, it’s made to sell.”
Franklin County figures prominently in the exhibit. The unofficial home of moonshine now actually markets itself as the Moonshine Capital of the World, complete with T-shirts and license plate holders. And a major moonshine trial in 1935 of what has come to be called The Franklin County Conspiracy was recently celebrated on the Franklin County phone book cover, even though one and possibly two people were killed to keep them from testifying.
Part of the moonshine mystique centers on the drivers who would deliver the goods in cars and trucks with enormous struts (to carry the weight) and souped-up engines to evade the pursuing law enforcement officials.
Because of the daring exploits of these moonshine runners, many people make a connection between them and the establishment of auto racing, especially NASCAR. Although some of the early NASCAR drivers had run moonshine, the biggest connection came in the modifications to the engines that were created in auto shops.
With such a tempting topic, officials at the museum already anticipate that visitors might get thirsty while viewing the exhibit. The museum is prepared with a sign that reads “Thank you for asking, but we do not have any samples, nor do we know where you may find any to take home.”