The Very Still
by JS Moore

Prohibition only drives drunkenness behind doors and into dark places, and does not cure it or even diminish it.
-Mark Twain

Ransom Bishop lived at 1612 Island Drive just beside the Sluice. He was a businessman who didn’t have to work because he collected a substantial income each month from various sources. His still was all the way across Chigger field and positioned on the Sluice. Actually, the still was across the Sluice and Long Island on Mr. Rodefer’s property. Don’t worry – the Bishops had to pay a toll and neither Clay Rodefer nor his own father ever went without. No one would have suspected a burned-out mercantile man like Ransom to be making home brew. But, truth be told, he was the cream of the crop on Long Island. And he was a perfectionist when it came to the taste of his liquor. His still produced a hundred gallons at a time and Bishop sold his product for a wholesale price of around seventy-five cents a half gallon to the Click Brothers. Ransom would run several trout lines out into the Sluice with the containers hooked to the line as well as some fish to keep it legit. Whenever he wanted a quart or twenty he’d bring in whatever was desired and some fish as well for dinner. The street value of a half gallon was more than double that and the Click Brothers couldn’t keep it stocked at Club 81 – their rough and tumble underground dive by the bridge on Hwy 81. Club 81 was on private property and signs were everywhere stating “trespassers will be shot on sight.” This kept the law away and it discouraged outsiders from Highland, Blair’s Gap, and other seedy areas from thinking they could come in unannounced or uninvited.

First and foremost Ransom Bishop was a salesman. It was said among those who had acquaintance with him that he was smooth enough to ball up any religion and sell it back to the church. My Papaw owed him money from a gambling debt and paid him every time the Eastman gave out bonuses. But Ransom had taken advantage of Judd Moore not knowing how to count when he cashed my Papaw’s paychecks at week’s end. He’d pay a carefree Judd with one dollar bills so it would look as if he was giving a lot back. Once Opal had taught Judd how to count, though, he knew he’d been swindled out of a small fortune. The salesman Ransom could not sell any excuse to Judd Moore and the tension between the two thereafter was evident, though it never came to blows between them.

Now Ransom Bishop, it is said many times over, was clever, the sharpest knife in the drawer. And I know writing this might send some rich businessman into a fit but it is the honest truth as I know it to be, and I will share it anyway. Ransom’s father was also a pretty smart feller and also a bootlegger and it is believed his father invented a certain drink, passed the recipe on to his son, and Ransom perfected the cocktail – which now has several variations. Long Island, New York would love to take credit for this one and still does to this day – since 1970 as a matter of fact. But as we all know - common people often times aren’t recognized for their ingenuity. Invented during Prohibition by Old Man Bishop and perfected by Ransom in the 1940’s:

Long Island Iced Tea

One fresh Lemon half
One fresh Lime half

Squeeze both into a pint glass

Add:
½ oz. Rum
1 oz. Vodka
1 oz. Whiskey
½ oz. Gin
½ oz. Tequila
½ oz. Maple Syrup

Mix Thoroughly Then pour in 4 to 5 oz. Soda Water (Coca-Cola, Pepsi, or RC Cola) without stirring.

Enjoy!

Teetotaler drunks have a native Long Island, Tennessean to thank for their alcohol fix. Thank-you Ransom Bishop.

Suggested listening: Night Life by Ray Price