Thirty-Three

            I got to my Uncle Paul's place around noon and they were sure surprises to see me in the shape I was in. They had no bathroom at that time, had an outdoor toilet. They were called the backhouse in those days. My Grandmother got the washtub out, heated some water on the kitchen stove and I got cleaned up. Uncle Paul gave me some of his clothes to wear till Grandmother got mine washed and dried.

            I slept late for a couple of days to get rested up again then my other Uncle, Melvin, started to give me rides in his car just to show it off. He had a 37 Buick but he had a bigger and more powerful motor in it and it sure could travel.

            The Blue Ridge Mountains came up to Maryland and the southern line of PA also the Appalachian Mountains came right up through central PA. Uncle Melvin used to deliver booze for the people that had stills down in the Mts in Maryland. He was called a rum runner. The Police used to hide and wait till he came by with a load and they would try to catch him. That's why he had a more powerful motor in the car and would always outrun them. Sometimes they had road blocks set up.

            When he'd see one he'd spin around in the road and go back with them after him. There was all kinds of old roads through them Mts and woods and he knew them all. He'd just turn off on one of them and he was soon lost to them in the woods. Sometimes after he got out of sight he'd pull off into some parking place they had cut out in the brush and wait till they went past him. He'd go back and delivery his load of whiskey. The police very seldom went up into the Mts where the stills were as them people had killed quite a few officers over the years so they'd try to catch the cars when they came out with a load to delivery.

            Back in them days, once in a while, some officers would decide to go in and bust up a still but would never get it done. Them Mt people and the law would have a real shootout. When it was over it left a few dead on each side with the police on the run and that officer never did decide to try it again.            

            There used to be some real wild times down there. That was during the years of Prohibition. It was sure a lot of fun but it was a job where a fellow could get knocked off most anytime. It was sure fun riding with him.

            Uncle Melvin got me an outfit of clothes when I came there and got me a job on a farm close enough so I walked to work every morning. The farmer worked in the coal mines and came about 4 pm to help with the jobs I couldn't do. There's where I tried to plow the first time with the team and a walking plow. At the end of the first day my hands were all blistered from trying to hold on to the handles. I held tight. The farmer told me to hold loose and let it go a little to one side or the other till I learnt and got used to it After that it didn't take me long to catch on.

           He had a few sheep and one day he showed me how to shear a sheep then I had the job to do the rest myself. One day, I had big old clippers I had to work by hand and try to hold the sheep down at the same time. It was an awful job for me to do till I done about twenty or thirty. That took me all but when he got home he showed me a lot more to make it easier and showed me how to flip a sheep over and the way to hold. Then the sheep just lay there and didn't even struggle. He laughed when I told him how I was fighting all day long just to keep a sheep down and keep it from getting away from me.