Ethyl comments on Freedom Hills

There was an area in Northwestern Alabama that the locals referred to as Freedom Hills. It consisted of a great many hills and valleys and winding country roads, and unless you knew exactly where you were going you were bound to get terribly turned around and completely lost. It got it's name from the fact that during Prohibition in the nineteen thirties the local moonshiners made their whiskey there. Once they withdrew into those hills and hollows it were almost impossible for the government 'revenuers' to locate them. By the way, the term moonshine is derived from the fact the men who made contraband whiskey usually did it at night, by the light of the moon.
There were many tales of moonshiners and revenuers that came out of those hills. One I like to recall was the story of the government agent who was driving a model T Ford in the hills and had a flat tire. No problem. He got out his spare, changed his tire and continued. Every thing was fine until the bumpy, uneven road blew out his spare. Nothing to do but take the tire and roll it and look for a service station. After he had walked about ten miles without seeing a soul he came upon a dilapidated shack and an old county woman sitting on the front porch.
"Mam," he said, "can you tell me how far it is to the nearest service station".
She studied the stranger and finally she said, "I reckon it be about twenty five miles as the crow flies".
Totally exasperated, he sighed and said, "Well, how far would you calculate it being for a man walking and rolling a tire".
My daddy used to tell the story, and he swore it was true, of the government agent who came upon this little country shack and a little boy about nine playing in the front yard.
Approaching the young lad, he asked, "Where's your pa".
"Oh", he said, "he's off up yonder in the woods at the still".
"Do you know how to find your way up there".
"Yeah".
"Well, I'll give you a dollar if you'll take me up there".
"OK", the young man replied. "Give me my dollar".
Oh, you don't understand", said the agent. "I'll give you your dollar when we get back".
"Nah sir", drawled the boy, "you give me my dollar now, cause you ain't coming back".
Such were the stories that came out of Freedom Hills.