"Like all of us who live, or who have lived in Baker County, our
lives were affected in some way by the moonshine industry that
existed in North Florida and South Georgia. In the 1950's, my life
was no exception.
"When I began my career as a rookie Florida Highway Patrol Trooper
in 1953, my first assignment was in adjoining Duval County under
the in-service training of veteran Trooper Al King.
At the time, the FHP statewide force of troopers only consisted of
about 275 men. We worked 12-hour shifts, six days a week for a $275
monthly salary. That was pretty good money in those days.
Having been born and reared in the small community of Gulf
Hammock, in Levy County, I felt proud of my position as a law
enforcement officer, and considered myself ready to carry out any
of my assignments to the letter of the law.
"In those days, we were tightly regulated by the FHP rules to
remain on our assigned roads during our regular shift, but we were
allowed to look for moonshine haulers after our shift was over as
long as we maintained radio contact with the FHP station for our
own safety.
"I soon learned that most of the high-speed vehicles we chased were
decoy cars scouting out the highway before the loaded shine car
appeared.
The bootleggers were very foxy, and it became a respectable
cat-and-mouse game between the law officer and moonshiner, if there
is such a thing.
"While living and working in Duval County, I was offered $150 a
night to let moonshine cars go safely through my assigned
territory. That was never a temptation, nor was it even a
consideration for me, despite the financial struggle to make ends
meet each month. I was never made this offer while I lived in Baker
County.
"I was assigned by the FHP to Baker County in 1955, just about the
time many citizens had realized that something had to be done to
save the up-coming youth from involvement in the moonshine
industry.
Laws were being changed, such as making possession of more than a
gallon of moonshine a felony, and Baker Countians had encouraged a
young man, E. Ed Yarbrough, to run for sheriff with a campaign
promise to 'clean up the county of shine'.
"I've often wondered how our family life would have turned out had
I accepted the offer from Sheriff Yarbrough, after his election, to
become his deputy. Instead, I decided to continue my career with
the FHP, which eventually moved us away to other territories and
assignments. However, for the few years I was privileged to live in
Baker County, I had my experiences with those who chose moonshine
as their profession.
"One high-speed chase that came very near ending my life, or
maiming me forever, began under the old oak tree on US 90 east of
Sanderson.
"I saw a young man that I recognized come by in a late model Ford
with all the earmarks of a loaded 'shine' car. He drove by me very
much like a law-abiding citizen, and looked at me as we waved to
each other. I instinctively pulled out, driving slowly behind him,
and the chase was on.
He turned down SR 127 south at a high rate of speed with me in
close pursuit, siren wailing and emergency lights flashing. After
several miles, he turned off into a long lane leading to a
farmhouse, ran through the farmer's yard, and out another road,
back onto the main road, then down numerous other unpaved roads in
the area.
My car was faster than his, and I had no problem catching up with
him, but he continually tried to run me off the road as he steered
into my lane.
"I decided to drop back behind him and wait as I had a full tank of
gas. I noticed that he was making unusual crouching motions as he
drove, but I couldn't figure out what he was doing, especially
going at such a high rate of speed, up to and in excess of 100
m.p.h. "I started to pull alongside him again, and in a split
second I realized what he had been doing when a full five-gallon
jug of moonshine came flying out his window and hit the road a few
feet in front of my car. I swerved to the right just as the
3/4-inch-thick glass bottom of the broken five-gallon jug sailed
like a cannon ball over my head missing my windshield directly in
front of my face, missing me by inches.
"I knew this guy was different and that he would kill me if
necessary to get away. This was the first time that I had become
really angry with a bootlegger because this one was seriously and
deliberately endangering my life, something you just didn't expect
one of them to do.
"The chase continued and I stayed close on his bumper. It was
difficult to see for the cloud of dust his car was raising. I
vividly remember, to this day, when we drove across a cattlegap on
the dirt road at about 85 miles per hour and hearing that
bloop-bloop sound when the wheels of the car lost contact with the
ground.
He turned on to what is now Mud Lake Road. I couldn't see what was
ahead of him for the dust cloud, so when he went around a curve at
a T intersection, I just flew airborne across the road into the
woods, where I miraculously went over, around, and in-between the
stumps and trees in my path.
Needless to say he was gone in a cloud of dust and not knowing if
he had left me dead or alive.
"This is the only time I can recall when I was out-run by a
moonshiner that I went an obtained an arrest warrant.
The unwritten, but understood, rule between law officers and the
moonshiner was, if they got away, then that was their good luck. If
they didn't, then that was ours.
But because he had deliberately jeopardized my life by throwing
that jug of whiskey out in front of my car, and because I
definitely knew his identity, I located his car the following
morning, had it towed in, and got a warrant for his arrest.
He elected to be tried by a Baker County jury on the charges of
reckless driving, resisting arrest by fleeing a police officer, and
assault against a police officer.
"The jury was made up of six people, most of whom were known by
both the defendant and me. I testified, under oath, of the facts in
the case, looking the defendant square in the eye.
"That was one of the most disappointing times in my life when the
jury came back and announced their verdict, finding the defendant,
NOT GUILTY!
Although I have had the occasion to arrest and take to jail many of
the moonshine car drivers, I have found the majority of them to be
honest people who would not deliberately hurt anyone. They would
not consciously tell you a lie, except if you asked about their
moonshine activities.
I was promoted and transferred and moved to Orange County in
December of 1958, and left behind all traces of the moonshine era
when I went into the safety division of the FHP.
I suppose that the best lesson that I learned in the moonshine era
of Baker County, other than how it feels to win or lose and to be a
good loser as well as a good winner, was although the bootleggers
and I were on opposite sides of the law, we both share one thing in
common .... mutual respect for each other.
After having lived away for 25 years, we returned to Baker County
in 1984, and I retired the following year after a successful career
in law enforcement.
One day, not long after we moved back, I received a quart of the
best homemade syrup, yep syrup, not moonshine, that could possibly
be made. it was from a former moonshiner, and someone I consider my
friend. Well, after all these years, I found that it really wasn't
a sticky situation after all!
Major Vince Smallwood, FHP Retired