Distilling the Truth

In my last post, I listed power toys of the 1960’s. One toy that I said you might not recognize was a still. You may not have had one in your toy box, but I did. As you may know, my roots are in West Virginia. And yes, there is “coal in them there hills,” but there is also something else that can be mildly profitable for the mountain people—Moonshine Stills.

My grandfather introduced me to a Moonshine Still when I was in the sixth grade. He was a really fun Granddad. He took my friends and me to carnivals and rode all the rides with us. When he wasn’t reading comic books to my brother and me, he was a Maytag repairman. He could fix anything. The phone rang all hours of the day and night. He repaired refrigerators, washing machines and just about anything else that was broken. And many times people didn’t have money to pay him and he’d tell them not to worry about it.

Once I was working on a doozy of a tummy ache because I didn’t have an idea of what to do for my science project. So granddad took me to see his neighbor, Mr. Corns (that really was his name!). He was the equivalent of a modern day Bill Nye the Science Guy and he had built himself a Moonshine Still. I thought he was just trying to distract me so I wouldn’t get to the next stage of hysteria—whimpering and crying. We both marveled at the piece of machinery that Mr. Corns had created.

Then granddad asked me if I wanted to build a still for my science project. At first I thought he was kidding, but when I knew he was serious, I saw visions of me getting an “F.” I may have been naive, but teaching my classmates to make moonshine was probably not going to get me a gold star, much less a good grade.

He assured me that we would just demonstrate how to distill water. We had so much fun on the many days in his workshop putting together pieces and parts that he had saved over the years in old coffee cans and Mason Jars. He explained that the process of distillation involves boiling water and then condensing the steam into a clean container. When the still was completely finished, it looked quite impressive indeed.

I created the posters by carefully outlining the block stencil letters with pencil and then tracing over it with magic markers. On the day that I took it to school, I’m not sure if Mom didn’t know what we were building or she got cold feet, but she suggested that maybe I tell, i.e. warn, the teacher before taking it into the classroom. But I was invested in it now and there was no turning back. I think I saw the teacher stifle a little bit of a grin when I carried it in. Maybe she was just winking at Mom and I didn’t know it.

Not only did granddad’s and my project get an “A,” but it was one of the top projects of Crescent Grade School. I even got to represent the CGS Chipmunks in the county science fair! I won third place so I didn’t get selected to take my project to the state science fair.

The premise behind my still was to remove the impurities from the water and make it pure. I thought about how contaminates can ruin things.

My gift was to attend a community meeting where I sensed that some “impurities” were being mixed in with the facts about an issue. Our community has a big decision to make and may be embarking upon a path detrimental to its future. I am concerned that the impurities of “power and control” are overshadowing the real issues and may result in erroneous decisions. I felt an obligation to take part in the meeting, weigh the facts and note any “contaminates.” When the truth is distilled and delivered to the people, our community will have good information to make their decisions and take appropriate action.

In Giving and Distilling the Truth,

Robin