Since forty-some years have passed (I know this is thread creep, but it's a good story)so maybe it's okay to name names. Otto R. was in his 50's, and I'm quite sure he's not still around. (Gargoyle, this is not exactly the story you wanted.)

So one early morning in Madison County NC in 1962, Charley and I were picked up by Otto with his flatbed truck. This all had to do with getting some quality white lightning for the two college boys from Maine. We went to a farm, where we and a farmer and his several children, all of whom (even the six-year-old) had brown rings around their mouths, loaded the flatbed with locust poles (fence posts). Otto thought he knew where he could sell or trade them, so off we went, up one county road and down another. We stopped at a farm where Otto knew the man needed the poles. Otto got out and chatted with the man for 15-20 minutes, then climbed back in the cab. Turns out his friend hadn't lived there for years and the new guy didn't need poles. "Mighty nice folks, though."

We drove on. Every so often we'd stop alongside the road, usually in a heavily wooded area, and Otto would disappear into the bushes. He'd return in a few minutes with a pint or half-pint bottle of clear liquid, which he would chug. Then he'd say, "Nope, not good enough for you boys."

We unloaded the poles for some timothy hay. We unloaded the hay for something else, I forget what. I think we loaded and unloaded the truck 4 or 5 time that day, always on barter; no money ever changed hands. We got almost as far as Johnson City, Tennessee before heading back, and Otto finally founded some white lightning good enough for college boys. We got a half gallon apiece for 4 dollars each.

Otto owned one of two Cadillacs in the county, I was told. It wasn't new, but it was pink.

Charley proof-tested the stuff in the chem lab back at school. What did it test at, Charley?

Qite an education for a couple of wet-behind-the ears Yankees.