BOOTLEGGERS
Written by Ronald MizonPublished on January 2018
One morning, we all woke up in Milford to find that the Mounties had arrived, not on horses, but in their special cars and apparently supported by a light aircraft.
The reason for this surprise invasion, we were given to understand from the elederly worthies, was that a still was reputed to have been suspected in the woods adjacent the village. A clue that something was going on, apparently in the woods, miles from anywhere, was a thin plume of smoke appearing from the midst of the trees for no apparent reason. In so far as I found out that an aircraft had spotted this smoke and reported it to the RCMP, hence we were treated to some intrigue. The local hall was taken over by the RCMP and from then closed to the general public and it became a sort of police station. After a few days suspected miscreants were seen to be escorted to the hall by the mounted police, the area was buzzing with people coming and going. This being a week end, us local urchins gleaned our information from the press. After about a few days it leaked out that three bootleggers were distilling moonshine spirit in the woods from a small cabin and as the week drew to a close judiciary proceedings were moved to a more secure unit, probably the provincial capital. Some guessed to Truro or Antigonish. I would have thought Halifax more appropriate. We did hear that the still and the other items were confiscated. What an exciting week that was to us
young 'uns. We could hardly wait to get out of school at the end of each day and made straight for the hall. The intrigue went as quickly as it had started and life went back to normal.
I picked up athletes foot from somewhere. I was no athlete but Annie saw me limping home from school one day and made an inspection and diagnosed athletes foot. Straightaway she told me that apart from clean socks every day I should bathe them morning and evening in a salty water bath and, with her persistence and guidance, after about two weeks they showed distinct improvement. And three weeks later they were clear. I thought that was that, but no, Annie insisted that I bathe my feet in the saline every week as well as continuing to wash them normally and wash and change my socks every day. She would have made a good sergeant major. I say that kindly. She looked after me and meant well.
Ernie and Annie celebrated this occasion when they took to the local milk bar and treated me to a chocolate milkshake. My hosts settled for a modest ice cream each.
After a few weeks Ernie asked me if I would care to have a little job on Saturday mornings in the Sun-Ray Mill. There would be remuneration, he remarked. Well, how could I refuse so the next Saturday morning off we went to work at the mill. He introduced me to huge bundles of sacks which were used to pack the various animal feeds in. My job was to unpack the big bundles and lay one sack at a time onto a moving upwards staircase which carried them individually to the floor above where a man filled each sack from a large hopper by a funnel and as quick as any seamstress sewed them up and loaded them onto a small flat truck and subsequently on to an adjacent rail wagon.
My job was simple, really, but I had to be quick as if my pace slackened and I missed a step of course it went up empty. I wasn’t doing the sacks all the time and when I filled my quota Ernie took me to the cereal room where a lady was filling small boxes with the Sun-Ray cereal. All I had to do was pack the filled boxes into a larger box and from a list put a prepared gummed label on each large box which showed its destination and was ready for dispatch.
At the end of my first Saturday I was a little tired but Annie made up for it by making a lovely venison stew followed by a home made squash pie. After supper the dishes were washed and I dried. Ernie said I did well and if I wanted to I could go with him every Saturday. He would be pleased. Then he gave me a whole dollar. I was “tickety boo”. “Yes, I’ll come,” I said. Of course, I still had my chores to do around the house and do odd jobs for the elderly lady down the lane who, at odd times, would slip me a quarter. One of my school friends – Arthur – worked in his spare time at a local service station. I often thought he spent more time there than at school, however, he was a genial lad and would "fill ’em up” when a customer came and would attend in the little shop. He was the envy of my other companions as he drove customers’ cars into the workshop and when fixed he would drive them out ready for collection and with a smile and a touch of his chauffeur’s cap he would bid them good day, especially if a client dropped a 25 cent piece in his hand.
Horses were quite rare in Milford, except in the outlying farms. Another school friend was Evril Gough. He lived on a farm and sometimes when I visited him we would ride the team back from the meadow. I think he was glad of a little company at times. I usually ended up being invited to supper and a ride home in the family car.