Being a kid in the 1930's was vastly different from today's experiences, no Zoom, no internet, no iPads, and certainly no television. What was a boy to do? If you were Paul Flanagan, every day was a new adventure, a new caper to be solved, and always accompanied by a vast array of friends, dogs and interlopers.
'In junior year, "Doc" Randall taught us physics, and my first foray into business began with his class, where I decided that making bootleg whiskey would be an easy and profitable venture.
I had a secret stash of money left over from my newspaper route tips, drug store tips and the sale of my paper route that I hadn't put in the bank and never told my ever-vigilant-when-it-comes-to-money matters, Mother. She was an intelligent and highly inquisitive person: and since money in the pocket was—in her mind—a boy's quickest path to the occasion of sin, she was particularly nosey about any money me and my older brother Walter had.
But my best friend Kenny and I were too smart: we secured a location, bought supplies in the next town over so as not to be recognized, and set up our fully functioning illegal moonshine distillery.
Our first sale was to the varsity football, basketball and baseball seniors. We carried the five-pint bottles of our first batch in my best friend Kenny's backpack. There is no limit to a teenager's bluff, or braggadocio. The lead senior wanted to act as if he were an expert in adult drinks. He sniffs once, then twice, raises his eyebrows in possible approval and then he nods affirmatively. He takes a swig.
Kenny looks at me, I look at Kenny. All of our savings that went into our distillery are now at the mercy of some high school senior's taste buds. If he doesn't like the stuff, where can we sell it? We could lose all of our money. We could be ruined!
The senior holds it in his mouth and looks surprised, he swallows and looks amazed. He runs his tongue around the inside of his mouth.
"Wow! That's smooth."
To a unanimous chorus of the high school jocks, "It's smooth!" we sold out the entire output of our first batch of illegal whiskey right then and there under the bleachers during lunchtime. One more batch like that and Kenny and I would have our entire investment back! Being a high-school businessman was a heady experience... I was on my way!'
