November 22, 2023 - Every Friday found myself and Lee Pardue in the company car making sales calls to our more productive agents. I was employed by an insurance company based in Burlington, NC at the time. Lee was my Underwriting Manager. Since I was new to the company these trips were a good way of meeting our agents.
One Friday we were traveling to several towns high up in the Blue Ridge Mountains. As we entered one town Lee said, “You know, this town has been the bootlegging capital of North Carolina.” This caught my attention. “You don’t say. Is it still active in that product?” “It probably is,” Lee responded.
We drove up to a small insurance office that was converted from a mobile home. The owner was one of our more productive agents. We were warmly greeted by the agent who motioned for us to sit in front of his desk.
Lee introduced me as the new Vice President of Underwriting for the company, and this was a ‘get acquainted’ meeting. We chatted about several things until I mentioned that I was from Texas. That seemed to light a fire under him as he began telling me how much he enjoyed visiting his relatives in Texas. He then asked me what I knew about ‘white lightning.’ I told him I knew very little about it. I was introduced to the product while in college, but found it too stout for my taste.
“Well, you just have not tasted the real thing yet,” he admonished. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said as he rose to his feet and walked into an adjoining room. He soon appeared holding a pint bottle in each hand. He handed me one, then the other to Lee.
“Now, boys, this is the real McCoy.” He held up a third pint bottle full of a clear liquid as if examining it in the light rays. “This stuff is darned near 100 proof. It’s the best to be found anywhere in these mountains.” Lee and I looked at each other briefly, both wondering how we should respond. I decided that it would be an insult not to accept the product that he was so proud of.
As we walked to the car I wondered out loud, “What are we going to do with this illegal stuff? We sure can’t get caught with moonshine in our company car.” I looked at Lee, “We have to hide these bottles somewhere in the trunk. What if we get stopped by a trooper and he finds them?”
We hid the ‘real McCoy’ liquid under some papers in the car trunk. All the way back home I am sure that we had guilty expressions on our faces. Lee made sure that he obeyed every traffic sign and signal. We dared not look in the direction of a police car we spotted. It’s strange how guilt makes one behave.
Back at the office I told Lee, “Here, you take my bottle. I don’t drink.” Lee responded in kind, “But I don’t drink either.” Now was the time to pull rank. “You take them and dispose of them, discretely of course.” Lee reluctantly stuffed the bottles inside a rolled up newspaper and disappeared into his office. The moonshine did disappear and was never heard from again. I never asked Lee what he did with those two bottles, and he never mentioned the incident again.
For the life of me, I cannot recall the name of that North Caroline town now, even though famous because of its notorious product.
