Oral History Interview with Mary Beeler Crume Moore

Begin Interview] Hibbs: Oh, well, I'm just going to talk here. This is an interview with Mary Beeler Crume Moore by Dixie Hibbs for the Kentucky Oral History Commission. The project that we are working on is the Prohibition and its effects on Nelson County. The interview was conducted in Bardstown, in Nelson County, Kentucky, west, excuse me, East Stephen Foster, on May 31, 1989. Mrs. Moore, would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself? Like when you were born, and who your parents were?

Moore: Well, my parents were Mrs. Augusta Wood Crume. And she was born in 1857. And my father was Samuel (Si?) Crume, was born around Mill Creek in 1854. And 1:00my mother had eleven children. And one died at sixteen years old, a boy, from the measles. One little baby was born, (?) . And lost twins, too, that lived five months. And the seven rest of us lived quite a little while after that.

Hibbs: So there were seven of you who survived.

Moore: Yes. Seven survived after that. Well, they've all gone now but myself.

Hibbs: And when were you born?

Moore: And I was born September the fifth, 1900. And I'll be eighty-nine in September the fifth, 1989.

Hibbs: Mm. Were you born in Nelson County? Were you born in Bardstown?

Moore: I was born in Bardstown.

Hibbs: Bardstown. Mm hmm.

Moore: And my mother, I couldn't tell you just where she was living. Oh, I can tell you where I was born. I was born out where the Old Kentucky Home Motel is now. my mother and father owned that. 2:00I was born there September the fifth, 1900. My father put all those trees out in 1902.

Hibbs: Oh. All those that are out there in the front right now.

Moore: And they tore our home down when they built the motel.

Hibbs: All right. Now, let's see. You married Harold Moore?

Moore: I married Harold Gregory Moore in 1921. January the sixth. And we had five, we had four children. Harold Gregory Moore, Junior; and Betty Caroline Moore; and Bill Moore, who's name is James William Moore; and Valerie Jill Moore.

Hibbs: What was your husband's occupation?

Moore: He was in insurance. He was an insurance agent. He sold insurance for years.

Hibbs: I know that you have told me some stories before about your musical career. I think that's quite interesting. And of course, we're talking about Prohibition. But to get an idea about what the situation was here, when 3:00you were playing the piano and all, this was before you were married? Or after you were married?

Moore: That was before I married, when I was about fifteen years old, when we played for dances. And we had (Morgan Mule?) played the saxophone, and my brother, Samuel Crume, whom we used to call Bitsy, played the drums. And my other brother, who was called Monk for a nickname, was Ansel Crume. He played the banjo. And I played the piano.

Hibbs: The piano. Okay. Now the places you played, did they serve alcohol there, or no?

Moore: No. No, they never served any alcohol. And I played all night long. And we played in different towns around (Hosse?). We went together, all of us, in a car. And went to play at Lebanon, Kentucky, Springfield, Bloomfield, (Hodgnell?) E-Town, all the close places. All night long. I really enjoyed every bit of it. 4:00Hibbs: Most of the places then around didn't serve alcohol at the dances.

Moore: No, no.

Hibbs: Because Prohibition started in 1920. And at that time, when most of the distilleries closed down, do you have any memories about any changes that took place here? Or do you remember, was there a lot of reaction to Prohibition in the area?

Moore: Well, there were saloons along the street, on the east side of the street, I guess. And a lady shouldn't walk on that side of the street. In the teens, you know, in the early, well, about '21 or something like that. So it wasn't really nice for a lady to walk in front of those saloons. But after I married in 1921, and of course, after that, I started having children. And I didn't know about much what's going on then. But during the teens, why, women couldn't vote or anything like that, you know. So we were not allowed to walk on that side of the street. 5:00Uh uh. But in 1921, they had apartments built up over (?) and the Heast, (Bill?) Hearst place along there. So they were nice apartments and different ones of the families lived up there.

Hibbs: The, of course, your husband, as an insurance agent, did he write any policies for things like the distilleries? Or anything like that?

Moore: No, no, no.

Hibbs: It was life insurance?

Moore: Life insurance.

Hibbs: Accident and life.

Moore: Accident and life. No, he never did write the distilleries. And of course I remember, oh, about 1922, when Con Moore's distillery burned. And of course, everybody went to fires then. And I remember very much carrying my oldest child down there to see the fire.

Hibbs: (Tell me about it?) Was it an accidental fire? You're 6:00talking about at the distillery. (Con Moore ?) is now (Barq's?) Moore: (Barqs?) I don't know whether it was an accident or not.

Hibbs: I didn't know, was it a warehouse fire? Or was it the distillery itself?

Moore: It was a warehouse fire. The whiskey and all were in there. And it was a big, big fire.

Hibbs: I know that you're a Methodist. Did you ever remember any sermons in the church against the whiskey or the alcohol? Was there anything like that that went on here before Prohibition?

Moore: Yes, especially in the teens, later teens. They didn't want you to work in distilleries if you belonged to a church. That's a no no. That was a no no.

Hibbs: Would they accept a donation from somebody working--

Moore: Oh, yes. They would accept a donation, all right. Oh, yes. They'd do that. But oh--

Hibbs: They just didn't want you to work for them.

Moore: No. No. No.

Hibbs: Did you know any women that worked in any distilleries? Like bottling houses, or anything, or secretary? 7:00Did many women work in the distilleries?

Moore: Well, a lot worked in Old Walker's distillery down here on the Boston Road. And then, let's see, I think the one was (Shohan's?) Distllery--

Hibbs: Uh huh. Shohan's, up there.

Moore: Up there. And I knew Miss, well, I know Miss (Beatte Robins?) worked there.

Hibbs: Right.

Moore: But that's about the only one I really knew that worked there at all.

Hibbs: Of course we are always interested in what happened here after the distilleries closed. Do you think there was, as far as a lawless element, of course, we do know that they started bootlegging whiskey and selling it and things. But do you have any particular memories about any, a big hullabaloo or something going on about the rumrunners or the bootleggers or anything like this?

Moore: I think at one time, I was raising children then, I don't know much about that. But I think there were several. I don't know who they were or anything, 8:00but I think they were caught in the county someplace, around Bardstown someplace close. But I couldn't tell you the date or when that was. There was a lot of talk about it, you know, and things like that.

Hibbs: You said you were raising children at the time. Were there any shortages of things because the economy, were the stores still operating like they used to? Well, see, that goes on until '33.

Moore: Well, late in the 1920s, oh, probably around 1926, 7 and 8. And of course, I was really ill in 1927 for four months, in bed. I never sat up. And I didn't know much about back then. But later, after around the '30s, you couldn't get sugar or different things without the tickets that you--

Hibbs: Oh, okay.

Moore: I should have one here someplace.

Hibbs: Okay. Where did you go to buy those tickets? Were they issued to you?

Moore: They were issued to us, yes. They were issued. 9:00Hibbs: And you were limited in the amount of sugar you could--

Moore: The amount of sugar, yes. You had to have those tickets to get your sugar. Just a certain amount.

Hibbs: That was to try to prevent moonshining. Because they were making--

Moore: That's right. Of course, I don't know much about the moonshining.

Hibbs: Yeah, well, I'm thinking about the sugar aspect. I know that big shipments of sugar, they would always investigate. And some of the country stores would have big sales.

Moore: Well, I remember when Mr. (Hagen?) passed away. Miss Sara Jones' father. He was out in the woods, trying to find a moonshine still. And they found him dead. He died with a heart attack sitting out there.

Hibbs: Was he a revenue agent?

Moore: Yes. That's what he was. revenue agent.

Hibbs: A lot of the distilleries locally were owned by local families and things.

Moore: Oh, yes.

Hibbs: I'm sure they had to come up with some other way. They had warehouses full of whiskey they couldn't do anything with.

Moore: They did. 10:00They couldn't sell it for a while or anything.

Hibbs: Did you have any knowledge of anybody that, say somebody that worked at a distillery and they had to get another job. Were there any factories started up to try to provide jobs or anything like that?

Moore: I don't remember anything like that.

Hibbs: Do you think the tourist industry, I know My Old Kentucky Home opened in 1923. I don't know whether that, I don't know if you have a feeling about whether that, a lot of people went to work for the restaurants or the boarding houses?

Moore: I remember when they had a sale uptown, where the old Bloom property was, up there on the corner. And I remember when they had a lot of things they sold up there, I think, from the home. I'm not sure. But I think I'm right.

Hibbs: Yeah. I think the American Legion sold it.

Moore: Yeah, I think that's what did it. And of course, as I say, I was raising kids then, and I didn't know much going on. But I remember 11:00that so well, because I went over there out of curiosity.

Hibbs: After, let's go a little further here, we're getting up to '33 with the economy and the attitude and things. After Prohibition was over and the distillery could go back and operate, do you remember any people coming in from outside or bringing money, or anything about the opening up of the distilleries again?

Moore: Well, I don't know too much about that. But of course, out here on the Bloomfield Road, I think Mr. Guthrie--

Hibbs: Yeah. He built that house and that distillery.

Moore: And I really don't know (?) As I say, I just don't remember that, all that then.

Hibbs: When, we'll talk a little bit about the blacks, because I don't know that we've talked too much there. Did you have help in your house when you were raising children?

Moore: Oh, yes. Oh, yes.

Hibbs: It was black help? I didn't know whether they were involved 12:00in any of the, you know, a lot of times when people, some of the newspaper accounts talk about arresting different ones for taking whiskey to Louisville or to Cincinnati and things. And I didn't know whether they were being used as couriers or anything like that.

Moore: No. Well, not this girl. She was a, in fact, she worked for me and Miss Conway and different ones. And she was very tongue tied, and just black as she could be. And so anyhow, she was a fine black girl. But now, back in the early years, you know, when my mother had children, my grandfather had a place on his land up on North Third, and it overlooked Second Street. The (Strange House???) They had a black mammy that took 13:00care of the children.

Hibbs: That lived with them all the time.

Moore: That lived with them all the time, called Mammy Charlotte. And they just loved her. So of course that (?) went in 1923, '33, and all that.

Hibbs: Some of the tales that we've heard on this project about people, you know, taking whiskey from the warehouses and taking it into Louisville to sell, or different things like that, they talk about the automobiles. A big automobile coming in was kind of a clue that maybe this, in particular, a strange one that you didn't identify. And were there not a lot of automobiles here in the '20s? Or did everybody know whose car was whose?

Moore: Not very many. No, there wasn't very many. No, there wasn't very many. And of course, I wouldn't know anything about--

Hibbs: The types.

Moore: The types of them or anything like that.

Hibbs: When you had, I know you had your children and things, but you still played music some. After your marriage, you never played piano again like that?

Moore: Some. Not much. Not very much.

Hibbs: Well, you didn't travel around.

Moore: No. I didn't travel around. Let's 14:00see. I married in 1921. No, after I started having children, I didn't play.

Hibbs: I just had wondered what they did for entertainment.

Moore: We used to play back in the old sweet shop then. Back in there. Especially Saturday nights. But we didn't play after twelve o'clock.

Hibbs: Cause it was Sunday.

Moore: That was Sunday. Played home sweet home at five minutes to twelve.

Hibbs: Okay. Let's see. Other things we can ask about. I know we have police chief and some assistants here. And of course the sheriff had his deputies, and then you had the revenuers. It looks like we had lots of policing element here. But according to newspaper clippings and things we read, they caught a lot of these people. But then there were a lot that may not have been caught, 15:00that got away with some of this. Was there an attitude of criticism in the community, do you think, against people trying to sell the whiskey in Louisville?

Moore: I never heard anything about that. I just didn't. I only remember three police. And one was named (Vititoe?) back in the early part of my teens. I think he had a place on his eye, a patch. And then, of course, Mr. Charlie (Tongue? Heavy Tongue?), they called him. He was my mother-in-law's brother. And then Floyd (Berbing?). I know those very well. But as far back in the teens, (Visitoe's?) the only one I knew.

Hibbs: Okay. We took a little break there to get something to drink. We've got to stimulate our mind here. One of the things that you had forgotten when we were first talking about your family, 16:00you had forgotten a sister.

Moore: I have a sister that's ninety-seven. And she's coming to see me the fifteenth of June.

Hibbs: So you and she, then, are the two--

Moore: The only two left. I'm sorry I forgot to name her at first.

Hibbs: Her name is Alice.

Moore: Alice Vargas Crume.

Hibbs: Vargas. That's an interesting--

Moore: Well, George Vargas was my mother's nephew. He was with the City of Bardstown, I guess, for a long time.

Hibbs: The engineer or something.

Moore: No, he wasn't an engineer. He worked in the office.

Hibbs: Okay.

Moore: Probably treasurer.

Hibbs: Treasurer.

Moore: Treasurer. And he was in also, used to be in People's Bank in Bardstown.

Hibbs: I often wondered where that name came from. We were talking, also, about your little group that went around playing. And this was before Prohibition, but you were telling me they had an interesting name there.

Moore: We had a name called the Gloom Chasers.

Hibbs: That meant that if you were sad, you came in and listened to you play, you'd go away glad?

Moore: I forgot to tell you that I used to play the piano 17:00at the Crystal Theater.

Hibbs: Okay.

Moore: And I never had a light on when I played the piano. Played in the dark.

Hibbs: Played in the dark, okay.

Moore: And I also played at the old opera house when they used to have vaudeville shows there. And I was about fourteen.

Hibbs: Of course, were these silent movies you were playing for?

Moore: Silent movies.

Hibbs: How did you know what to play?

Moore: Oh, I just played anything that came in my mind. Played by ear. And I just played anything.

Hibbs: Would you look at the movie first to see about--

Moore: No.

Hibbs: --if, you know, if it was supposed to be a chase scene or something?

Moore: Yes, they'd be chasing, you know, like cowboys and all those things. And they would chase each other and carry on. I had certain music that I thought about an played. And then I had to quit playing when I married.

Hibbs: Okay.

Moore: I believe Emily Mae Bush took my place when I got married.

Hibbs: Do you remember what you used to get paid for that?

Moore: Dollar.

Hibbs: A dollar the night?

Moore: A dollar a night.

Hibbs: Well, that sounds pretty good.

Moore: That was big money. That 18:00was big money. And I used to work. I always loved to work. And I worked for Miss Ethel (Bauman?) in the millinery shop. A long, long time ago. Then I married, and of course quit working. But I always loved to work. Still working.

Hibbs: We talked a little bit about the Methodist Church and their stand about alcohol and so forth. But after Prohibition, when they opened the distilleries back up, was there any talk, I mean, does this attitude still come through that they didn't want you working at the distilleries?

Moore: Well, I never heard anything about it after that.

Hibbs: I didn't know whether that, was it, do you think it was a particular minister? Or just the fact the Methodists were teetotalers as a group?

Moore: Well, I just don't know. But I know the Methodist minister here, I believe his name was, I'm not sure of what his name was, Brother (Merl?). I can't remember.

Hibbs: Well, it's been a while.

Moore: I can't remember. But he was very much against it. Very much against it.

Hibbs: Well, I know we had a Women's Temperance League 19:00here. And in fact, it might have been the Wesleyans? No, that's not right. It seemed like someone mentioned that there was a group that were against alcohol.

Moore: I don't remember that. But I loved to work.

Hibbs: Well, during the time Prohibition was here, then the saloons that you talked about, East Main Street up there, I mean, the east side of Main Street, they were closed.

Moore: They were closed. One was (?) sports shop was. And then where the old, let's see, old A&P used to be, old A&P store used to be along there somewhere. There was about three or four along there.

Hibbs: You're talking about, for the recorder, you're talking about the east side of the first block of North Third. Mm hmm. And there was a bank on each end of the street. People's Bank was on the north corner.

Moore: People's Bank was on the north. Now let me see. 20:00Hibbs: There was a Farmer's Bank Moore: Farmer's Bank, uh huh. Farmer's Bank.

Hibbs: I just wonder if they turned them into anything else during Prohibition. If they used them for a restaurant, or a bowling alley?

Moore: I don't think so. I don't think so.

Hibbs: Closed them?

Moore: I don't think so at all.

Hibbs: Do you remember any talking about any speakeasies? Or anyplace that you could go to get whiskey?

Moore: No. I wasn't interested in that.

Hibbs: I didn't know whether your contact with your brothers' playing, did they continue to go on and play in an orchestra after you married?

Moore: No. No. (Morgan Yule?) did. He went with another orchestra. And so did my brother Ansel, yes, he did. And he played until he passed away in 1959. Of course they wanted me to play right away after I lost my husband. But no way did I, I just wouldn't do that.

Hibbs: Well, when did he die?

Moore: Mr. Moore died June the fourth, 1951. Thirty-eight years ago.

Hibbs: Do you think that Prohibition was good 21:00for the community? Or what effect do you think it actually had on it? As far as an opinion. I know the Prohibition period, the thirteen years. Do you feel like that was a good or bad thing?

Moore: Well, I don't think younger people, I don't know anything about it much with raising a family. But I don't think younger people drank then like they do now, and could get hold, they just couldn't get hold of anything, I don't think, back in that time, like they do now.

Hibbs: The only place they could get it would be in a saloon, then?

Moore: It would be in a saloon. That's the only place.

Hibbs: You didn't have retail outlets where people could buy bottles? Or how did that work?

Moore: No. No. No. Uh uh. We didn't have anything like that then.

Hibbs: The medicinal whiskey that they bottled during Prohibition. Of course, that was sold through the drugstores. Was it your grandfather that was (?) Moore: My mother's father, James, David 22:00James Wood, was my grandfather. He owned the drugstore there on the corner. It was called (Wood?) up there at the top. They had a, storm took all that off. Then after he retired, he put his son, David, with him there. David (Sweets?) with him there. And I don't know how long he was there. But my brother David, was named David Wood Crume, he filled prescriptions and everything in there, and worked in the drugstore for years and years. And also Dave, my brother had a jewelry store, North Third Street, in 1902. And he was there quite a while in that.

Hibbs: Was he operating the drugstore during Prohibition?

Moore: Yes, he was.

Hibbs: Do you know if that was the only legal way at the time to get alcohol or get whiskey, that he sold it by prescription at the drugstore?

Moore: No, I wouldn't know. I wouldn't know. I wouldn't know about that at all, because I was just a young 23:00teenager then.

Hibbs: Do you know if he ever used whiskey as a medicinal use?

Moore: Never. Never.

Hibbs: That was kind of a personal question, wasn't it?

Moore: No, that's all right. That's fine to ask me. No. No.

Hibbs: Let's see. Let me think a minute. Let's go back a minute to, you were talking earlier about no ladies walk down the side of the street on the east side of North Third Street because of the saloons. Was this a dangerous situation? I'm not, I mean, I understand what you're saying, but it's not real clear exactly why.

Moore: Well, I would think it was dangerous because I think a little bit like now, there was a man shot on North Third Street. And the (?) building was up here on, the (Oakley?) building it is now. And they took this man, I forget their names, 24:00but it was in the late teens. And took him up there. And then had Dr. Irving Abel, Senior to come out. But he died during the night. But I remember that, because everybody was scared to death. I wasn't on the street when it happened, but that was, I imagine, that's one reason, maybe a lot of people drank a lot then. And there would be drunks on the street, you know. (?) Hibbs: Well, I know the saloon's on the one side, and the other side had merchants and things. But was there any reason to keep them, I mean, the people just stay over there by the saloons. And when they drank, they didn't cross the street?

Moore: I don't remember that. But I don't think any ladies ever walked down that side street, if I can remember that well.

Hibbs: It's kind of a fascinating aspect of that. It was kind of off limits to women.

Moore: It was. It was like that.

Hibbs: Okay, then women, as a rule, then, weren't drinking.

Moore: If they were, I didn't know anything about it. We had dances 25:00at night when I was in my teens. Big dances up here in the Crystal Theater, upstairs. And great big orchestras would come, and they'd last all night long. Well, what I did, I don't know what anybody else did, but what I did, we'd go down to my house at intermission. We'd have sandwiches. And I don't know whether we even had soft drinks then, I can't even remember that far back.

Hibbs: Punch or lemonade or something.

Moore: We must have had some lemonade or something like that. But that's what we did. We'd go down there, several, eight or ten couples.

Hibbs: But then the refreshments weren't served at the dance. They just had the dance for the people--

Moore: No. And they'd go out. They'd go out for that hour intermission.

Hibbs: And that was before Prohibition. So actually, if they wanted to serve liquor, it would have been legal to do it. But it just wasn't a cultural thing, they didn't do.

Moore: If they did, I don't know anything about it.

Hibbs: Right. Well--

Moore: And I can't remember whether the restaurant 26:00was open across the street or not now. I just don't remember that, where they could go. Because these dances went on until 1920. Big ones. In fact Cocky, my brother, whose nickname was Cocky, used to have these big dances, and have these big orchestras to come in. He would organize it--

Hibbs: Organize and manage it.

Moore: And then we'd dance all night long.

Hibbs: All night long. Did you wear your shoes out?

Moore: Wore my shoes out. Had a good time.

Hibbs: Maybe that's what helped your longevity here.

Moore: Maybe it did.

Hibbs: It might have. Wonderful. I hope so. Because that's exactly what I like to do.

Moore: Well, my family, it is kind of a long-lived family, anyhow. My father was in his ninety-third year. And my Grandfather Wood passed away at ninety-two. And then my brother Dave passed away at ninety. 27:00My sister (Molly?) passed away at ninety. And then, of course, I have Alice living, who's ninety-seven.

Hibbs: When you're saying Dave, are you saying DJ Wood? Is that your brother?

Moore: DJ Wood, no, is my mother's nephew.

Hibbs: Okay. Well, I'm really confused.

Moore: I'm going to show you what you gave me when (?) Hibbs: Okay. We're talking about My Old Kentucky Home Hotel, which was in the second block of North Third Street. And we never, in my youth, they had a coffee shop. And did they have a (restaurant?) Moore: They did, they had a coffee shop there.

Hibbs: And you said that, did they have a ballroom or something?

Moore: No, it was a dining room. A lot of times we'd just go up there at night and then move the tables all back. And they'd say, "Here comes (?)" you know. And Morgan would get his saxophone. It was just us two, a lot of times, that played.

Hibbs: Kind of like a jam session.

Moore: Played and had a good time. That's the way we had a good time. Only I got tired of playing the piano. I liked to get out and dance.

Hibbs: I was going to say, what happened when--

Moore: (Nellabee Cisco?) played the piano then. And she'd 28:00play sometimes. But I don't think Mary (Stiles?) ever played. Don't think she ever played the piano at all at the dances.

Hibbs: Did the hotel have, I mean, like the dining room, did they serve drinks in the dining room?

Moore: No. Never any drinks.

Hibbs: Things have changed so much.

Moore: And they had a beauty shop back in the side, on the side of (?) And this was a long time ago.

Hibbs: I'm sorry I keep going back to the situation--

Moore: It's all right.

Hibbs: I guess what I want to say is, did you see any public drunkenness? Did you ever see drunks on the street, or anything like that? Either before or during Prohibition?

Moore: No. I never seen anybody drunk. Thank the lord for that.

Hibbs: Well, I was just trying to get an idea about the situation here in terms of the public and social 29:00reaction to people.

Moore: I imagine there was plenty of it. But if there was, it wasn't the time I was on the street. The only time I remember, when the ladies could vote, you never heard such cheering and everything. When they could vote for the first time. I forget what time that was. Nineteen--

Hibbs: I know it was '20. That was 1920.

Moore: I think that's what it was. Yeah.

Hibbs: Did you vote the first time you could?

Moore: Oh, I didn't vote for a long time. No, I was just a kid then. Well, I was twenty. I was getting married in 1920, in January. But a whole lot of that went on, talking about the ladies not voting before, when I was about seventeen, eighteen, something like that. No, my mother owned several places on Main Street.

Hibbs: You were talking about the building where they were putting the apartments up there on the first floor. Did she own that one? Is that what you were saying about billing the apartments there?

Moore: You mean over at (?) Hibbs: Yes.

Moore: (Con Moore?) owned those.

Hibbs: (Con Moore?) Moore: (Con Moore?) owned those. And over the A&P, 30:00Tommy (Spalren?), Senior, and Frankie (Spoon?) lived up in that one. And when I married, I lived right across the hall from them, in the next one. And (Turn and Betsy?) lived in the third one. There used to be a little bridge that went out in front of them.

Hibbs: Yes. We have a picture, in the pictorial history, there's a picture of that.

Moore: Yeah. And then Sammy and Virginia lived in the end one. And I remember so well when I was in that cyclone, you know, with my two first children. Virginia and Sammy took care of Betty. She was the baby then.

Hibbs: Now what, you say the cyclone--

Moore: I was coming home from Louisville when they first started buses out here, in about-- [End Side A. Begin Side B.] Hibbs: --with your (three children?) Moore: We were coming home from Louisville on the bus, because 31:00it was so easy to put me out right there on Main Street. Well, this storm started before we put Mrs. Crume out, Mrs. Tom Crume. On the (Lower?) Road. And Mr. Rapier, (Ecro?), not (Ecro?) Rapier was Mrs. Tate's father.

Hibbs: Right.

Moore: And he was on the bus. And another couple of women were on the bus. And I had Betty, she was six months, and Harold was three. And he was sitting between me and another lady, with the name of, last name was Clark. And this bus driver just, after he put Miss Crume out, we started on down. And he hadn't gotten any peace, so he said, "I can't hold it on the road any longer." And we went down this embankment about fifteen feet. Oh, it was terrible. And we got up that bank some way, that old muddy bank, some way. And here comes a car. And it happens to be Mr. and Mrs. Will (Stiles?). And they put us in the car and brought us home. Well, I was in complete shock 32:00and all. So Ginny took my baby. And they called for my sister to come over from (Booneville?), she was living there then, and take care of Harold. But nine months or ten months later I had a complete breakdown from that.

Hibbs: All the stress and strain of going off--

Moore: You had no idea. They say you're going over. I took my baby and held her up like this without falling on her. It was terrible. It went right straight through (this pipe?) there, right before you came to the old, that big old house there no the right that you can see all the way over in Nelson County, on the top.

Hibbs: Okay. The one that--

Moore: (McClure?) house. It went all the way over to Springfield and tore up the colored section of Springfield.

Hibbs: That's the same path the tornado in 1974 took.

Moore: Really?

Hibbs: Did you realize that? It didn't go to Springfield, but it went right across there, that ridge, they call it. The (Tornado?) Ridge, or whatever. In '74. And you're saying 33:00this was in '25.

Moore: '25. March of '25. Very hot and humid. It was just terrible. And that's the way they all start. Nearly every time. But that was a terrible night. It was a terrible night. They had to carry me upstairs and get the doctor. Put a big (?) So, here I am. Here I am!

Hibbs: Surviving on. Surviving on. Oh, my. Well, I am--

Moore: I wish I could have told you more about things.

Hibbs: I think you've told me a lot more than you think, see, because you're talking about things that were, the situation here with culture and the entertainment. And you're also showing the aspect, applies to an aspect, a lot of people that we've talked with have a Catholic aspect and all this, and have been involved in the distilling industry. Not that all the Catholics were distillers. So that a Protestant that was not involved in the industry, and really had no 34:00economic thing there--

Moore: That's exactly why I quit. Because I couldn't take it anyhow. And I was just young. I don't think I worked more than two days.

Hibbs: You're saying in the distillery.

Moore: Yeah.

Hibbs: Was it in the bottling room you worked?

Moore: It was in the bottling room. Yeah. And I don't think I worked over two days.

Hibbs: That was before 1920.

Moore: Oh, yeah. I wasn't over fifteen years old then. As I say, I always loved to work. But you know, when we had our big time, Dixie, we had a bunch we went with called the Splendid Crowd. And we'd go to different homes of the parents. And each one would play the piano, different ones that played the piano. And they'd open the house. My mother opened the door, because that was the best place to be. They don't do that these days. But that's the way we had fun.

Hibbs: Right.

Moore: We used to go out to the old McGill House back here on (Templin?) Avenue, where the Hubbards lived. And (Leo McGill's?) mother lived there. And Leo was one of our Splendid bunch. And we used 35:00to go out to where I was born. And I think McGills lived out there at one time, too. And that's what we'd do. And go over to the Woodard home on Broadway. That big old place. I forget who owns it now. I know, but I can't think of his name. Charlie Hart.

Hibbs: Oh, yeah.

Moore: Charlie Hart owns it. And we just had a good time. We really had a good time. It was a clean good time. There was no eating or drinking or anything then. And we had a decent time to get home. You had to get home. So that was the good times then. It was very nice.

Hibbs: A lot of things went on, not only during Prohibition and afterwards, but ever since. Different things happened.

Moore: Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh, yes.

Hibbs: Do you have any opinion about whether you think the people who moonshined or who were bootleggers during Prohibition, that they went on and continued that after the 36:00law was changed?

Moore: Oh, I imagine they did for a while. I imagined they did for a while.

Hibbs: As long as there was money in it?

Moore: As long as there was money coming in. You know, money talks. As long as money was coming in, I imagine they took care of (?). A long time after that. Like bookies, or whatever you call it.

Hibbs: Right. Right.

Moore: Different things like that, too.

Hibbs: I know when you talked earlier about the sugar tickets, and we couldn't decide where that you had to go get them, but that came toward the latter part, you think.

Moore: I can't remember where we went to get that sugar.

Hibbs: But was it, it was more--

Moore: It was in about 1928.

Hibbs: (The later part?) Moore: That's about when it was. It was (?) then.

Hibbs: Almost like wartime rationing.

Moore: It could be, too, that it was in early '30s. It could be as early in the '30s, about 1933 or '34. That may have been the right date, for all I know. Because I know (?) And when 37:00Hoover was in, it was a Depression then. That was, I think, in the late '20s. '29.

Hibbs: Well, I thank you for your conversation.

Moore: I didn't do much for you.

Hibbs: No, well, I think you just did fine. Thank you again.

Moore: You're welcome. [End Interview.]