The Bottom Of The Barrel

My Daddy used to tell us stories of his wonderful childhood memories, and usually they were quite funny! We lived in a very rural area of the Florida Panhandle. Daddy was born in 1915 and was a child in the late teens and early twenties.

He lived as a boy in the Whitewater Community. His Daddy was a farmer and so was his great grandmother. The Family lived on what was left of the McDuffie homestead.

My granddaddy’s name was James McDuffie, but he was always called Boss.  

Hardly anyone in that area ever had any money, but they were farmers and grew most of their food, so having extra money was not a big thing. Most folks were very poor, but hardly anyone realized that fact. In those days everyone was in the same boat.

Most of the men folk made their own alcoholic beverages, homemade wine, brandy, white lightening and homemade corn beer. The brandy and beer was usually stored in the barn in a big wooden barrel. Wine and white lightening usually stored in bottles or jars.

Most children were not allowed to partake of alcohol, but some thought they were clever and would sneak out to the barn every now and then, and use the long-handled dipper that hung on a nail on the side of the barrel to have themselves a stolen taste which was always a lot more fun!

Daddy was a couple of years older than aunt Louise and both were dare devils. They would quite often sneak out to the barn for a sip or two. Daddy was around eight to ten years old and she was a couple of years younger. Both were too short to get a sip when the level was getting down low, close to the bottom of the barrel.

So they devised a plan, Daddy would hold aunt Louise up and she would hang over the rim and she would reach down and get some in the dipper for them. This system worked well for a year or so, but one day it came to a splashing halt.

The level had dropped quite low she was having a hard time reaching far enough to get a any in the dipper. She kept urging him to push her up a little more, he kept pushing and then there was more of her inside the barrel than outside, and he lost his grip of her feet and dropped her on her head into the barrel.

Oops! She spit and sputtered and got herself sorted out enough to eventually stand up again without drowning. The level was really low, but there was still enough that she was thoroughly soaked in the corn beer!

Daddy was able to help her get out, but their secret was out! No way to hide it any longer, she had to go in the house for clean dry clothes before rinsing the beer off with soap and water at the well. She smelled like a brewery!

For some strange reason they were not punished for their disobedience. The grownups actually thought it was funny! Daddy always called his sister Louise by the pet name of Ted.

When he would tell this story he would laugh so hard and loud, and tears would run down his cheeks at the memory of it and he would say, “I wish ya’ll could’a seen Ted, she looked just like a drowned rat, soaked to the skin  ‘n’ her hair plastered to ‘er head with that corn beer!” 

I’m glad that my aunt Louise didn’t drown at the bottom of the barrel that day, but it could very well have been a tragic ending instead of a becoming a funny story to be told many times over. They learned that day by their hard earned experience that it was not a wise thing to do anymore.

Their secret became known to everyone and since they had been found out, it seemed to take the fun of it away! Another one of those forbidden fruit things that lost its magic once it became known!