Last week, I came across an interesting story via our JCHC calendar. On April 14, 1923, Deputy Sheriff Artie Pollack found a moonshine plant built in the treetops at the rear of a farm in the Baldridge section between Magnolia Avenue and Collier’s Ferry Road. Only accessible by boat, it was cleverly hidden about 12 feet above the water. The journalist Gus A. Flasdick provided many details of the surroundings and how if it wasn’t for deputy Pollack’s knowledge of the area, the still would never have been found. The article is worth reading, so I’ve added it to the end of this blog for all to soberly (or somberly) enjoy.

This article reminded me of a Susie Spindletop quote from the later prohibition years. East Texas had been deluged with rainfall one year, and there was a story of most moonshine stills being destroyed in the floods: “My boyfriend cried for weeks.”

Fellow JCHC member Don Smart found the article and many others during his research. For those of you who have taken the Magnolia Cemetery tour, it was Don who found the original story of Wong Shu. You would have also seen him on last year’s tour, bringing Beaumont firefighter and baseball player Speedy Eldridge’s history to light. Don is also why I have a few issues of Port Arthur’s high school’s yearbook, The Seagull,from the 1920s. He is a great researcher and has a wealth of knowledge of Beaumont baseball.

I said last week that I would provide a little more information on what’s brewing here “Under the Oaks” on Block’s farm. I will be taking the Galveston Historic Homes Tour on Saturday, May 7. As usual, I will be giving updates that day on wait times and such via the Facebook page. I will also be checking you in at the gate of the cover house on Mother’s Day on Sunday, May 15. I hope to see you there.

Every year, I look forward to the Historic Homes Tour, but my tour would not be complete without starting at the Old City Cemetery. The wildflowers are a must-see and a great photo op for photographers.

Other future events are in the works; I’ll have more information later. However, in the meantime, the main event will be the Historic Magnolia Cemetery Tour 2022. We are currently planning the tour, which will be held in October. Also, Magnolia Cemetery has restored the old office, and it is now applying for its Historic Texas Cemetery Designation.

At the beginning of this blog, I mentioned that the JCHC has a calendar. We also have a newsletter that you can sign up for and a Facebook page to follow and see what happened “on this day in history,” among other things. Until next week, I bid you adieu, but I leave you with Deputy Pollack doing his job well and Beaumonteers thirsty.

Sources: Don Smart Collection, Beaumont Enterprise, Jefferson County Historical Commission.

Friends of the JCHC – https://www.facebook.com/friendsofJCHC

JCHC email- histcomm@co.jefferson.tx.us

Deputy Sheriff Artie Pollock Finds Moonshine Plant Built in Tree Tops

Place Reached By Using Boat

Moss Concealed Barrells of Mash and Two Crude Liquor Stills

                                  By Gus A. Flasdick

An “aerial distillery” has been brought down near Beaumont. The plant was found by Deputy Sheriff Artie Pollock, about a mile in the rear of a farm in the Baldridge section between Magnolia avenue and Collier’s Ferry road, mounted on a platform about 12 feet above the water and carefully concealed and camouflaged with moss and shrubbery to match the surrounding scenery.

The find was the result of nearly three months investigation and is considered the prize “haul” of the season. Unlike most other stills captured in this section of the state in recent months, this plant was almost safe from detection and only one thoroughly acquainted with the surroundings could have located it.

On the platform, which was reached by climbing a crude ladder, affixed to the side of a thick cypress tree, there was not only a complete whiskey manufactory, but all other paraphernalia connected with the industry. There were five barrels of corn mash, apparently in a finished state of fermentation and ready to go through the “worm,” a crude charcoal furnace built out of a galvanized iron washtub, several empty bottles, jugs and demijohns, several funnels, two lanterns, a quantity of cotton straining cloth, a bag of corks, a bucket, two wagon axles and an alcohol proof gage.

                            Air-cooled Worm

The still, or stills, for there were two of them, were of the crudest construction. One was about 25 gallons capacity, apparently originally built of copper and made to accommodate about 15 gallons, but it had been enlarged with galvanized tin and it was estimated that approxi by this operation. Other was made from a standard 10 gallon milk container, the worm from which led to a copper condenser can which also served the larger still. But one coil, a half inch copper tube, about 25 feet in length, served both “cookers,” and unlike other “worms” was air cooled instead of water cooled.

The still was approachable only by boat, being erected almost a mile from land over stagnant waters of the Baldridge section. To reach the exact location one must have a thorough knowledge of the surroundings, for a single wrong turn of the bow of the rowboat, would mean a new beginning.

After nearly an hour of careful maneuvering among water-covered tree trunks, shrubbery, and driftwood, we finally reached the so-called “aerial distillery.” It was utterly impossible to even imagine a whisky still in that part of the woods and even as the deputy sheriff pointed out the place to me I was unable to observe anything resembling a still until we were well within ten feet of it.

                                                                     Four Trees joined.

A crude ladder, nailed to the side of a large cypress tree, was the only means of reaching the plant,  and after we securely tied our rowboat to another tree, we ascended to the platform about twelve foot above the water. The builder was careful to select four trees, forming a square, in which to built his plant. Four pieces of planking, about two inches thick and about a foot wide, nailed to each of the four trees, served as the foundation. Over these were laid twelve pieces of planking of the same dimensions and they formed the platform.

The eyes was first caught by the number of barrels. There were five of them, about 60 gallons capacity each, and all were fully charged with bubbling mash, apparently ready for distillation. A heavy canvas cloth laid over the open tops protected them from falling leaves and dead bark.

In the center of the platform was the stove, a galvanized tub, the bottom of which was filled with bricks and cement and through the sides of which were cut a number of air holes. The furnace was laden with charcoal and apparently  ready to light. Beside it lay a full sack of charcoal.

Across the top of the tub-furnace there were two heavy iron bars, formerly wagon axles, upon which sat the cookers, one a cooper-iron box, the other a milk can. There were slots for loading the mash and from each ran a small copper pipe, connecting with a single condenser.

                                           Moss hid Barrels

American guns and munition dumps in France were well camouflaged against detection  by the Germans and it was a bit of this very same art that probably protected  this moonshiner from an earlier raid. Moss and shrubbery were his main assets, though he also used wire in his art.

The wire was fastened to the four trees at a level about four feet above the platform, or about three inches above the tops of the barrels. From the wire line heavy strands of moss were hung and the general appearance from a distance blended with the natural background of the thick woods. Unless one was aware of its existence and exact location the plant could never have been found. It was the most thoroughly disguised still ever captured and though virtually every  officer in east Texas was aware of its existence, none had ever succeeded in locating it though many had tried.

Exactly three months were spent by Deputy Sheriff Pollack in his systematic investigation and whenhe set out to destroy the plant he knew exactly how to reach it.

The two stills were taken to the sheriff’s office and samples of the mash were taken as evidence. The remainder of the plant was destroyed and for many miles about the spot the sour essence of corn could be detected in the atmosphere after the five big barrels of mash were dumped over into the water. The platform was torn down.

Stills at almost every description are on display at the sheriff’s office, and at the federal courthouse. All could tell a sad little story, but none like the two captured in Baldridge

When delving into historical research, whether as a hobby or as an attempt to keep specific memories alive, you meet many people from different cultures and backgrounds, as well as those similar to yourself who have their own history niche. The first Jefferson County Historical Commission (JCHC) meeting I attended was in 2012, one year to the day Bill Quick died. I didn’t know Bill, but his way of researching and those who knew him changed my method of gathering historical information. He believed that your ongoing research must be correct to pass on to the next generation, and he was a stickler for detail. This should be a no-brainer for everyone, but humans will be humans, and we can get lazy. Researching a subject can take years, and even then you may never find your answer. It took me five years of my ongoing research on Florence Stratton to determine that her birthday was March 21, 1881. Five years, but I did find it. And to Bill’s credit, I had six verifications, although Bill would have wanted at least three. I would have loved to talk with him about many topics, such as this.

Over the years, I’ve talked to many people about SETX and its history, and I cherish them. One of the great things about being on the JCHC is seeing new members pursuing their research and interests. There is much work going on, and I hope they will keep these projects alive by writing them down and placing them in public for all to discover their work. Speaking of the JCHC, I would like to give a big shout-out to their new coordinator, Jen Trenbeath. Having known Jen for the past couple of years, I am confident that she will do a great job!

There are also people who are not on the JCHC that I’ve cherished for years as a link to local history, who I relied upon their expertise, and who, sadly, we have lost. Jerry Burnett was my insurance agent—largely by default; my father sought him out in the 90s. When my father died in 1998, I relied on Jerry for insurance. In later years, I got to know Jerry, and we always discussed Port Arthur’s history. We spent many hours discussing our city and its past. The interurban was front and center in our discussions, and any train or railroad question fell into his expertise.

I love talking about local history, but it was always unique to discuss it with Jerry. Not only did he know Port Arthur’s history but he also collected information and sometimes objects from a forgotten era that most would throw away. Thanks to him, I have my Port Arthur telephone book (1947).

A few weeks ago, I received a letter from Jerry’s office that he had passed in February. It was a shock to find out. The last time we spoke was in October, and as usual, our insurance discussion quickly turned into yet another recollection of our city’s past. I will undoubtedly miss our conversations and his input on some of my projects. Rest in peace, Jerry.

A sibling of mine visited this weekend—it has been decades since she left the area. We went on a driving tour of mid- and south-Jefferson County and visited old haunts, such as the old neighborhood, Griffing Park, Eddinston Court, the seawall, and the old crabbing site on Pleasure Island. Everyone knew to line up at the schoolhouse to your crabbing site to catch your limit, right? Fun times! Conversations about past restaurants such as Leo and Willie’s, Farm Royal, the Fish Net, Monceaux’s, El Charro, and Guadalajara’s delightfully made our final leg of the tour finish at the Schooner restaurant.

I also had the chance to browse through a few Port Arthur High School yearbooks this morning. I have four issues of the Seagull from the 1920s, and it’s always interesting to look back at a few interesting characters from our history. Some may have known this little lady as Martha, but most knew her as Toodlum. “Hello, Port Arthur. I love you and everyone here,” she would one day write.

I will be involved in a few projects this year, starting in May. I hope to get into some details next week, but until then, I bid you farewell.