Oh, the stereotypes of an abandoned moonshine still in the swamps of the deep south. For real though, spotting this gem of broken, sagging plywood while wandering the boardwalk at Congaree National Park brought the past to life in ways that just reading about the history of prohibition could not have achieved. How many people used this little still? Why did they choose a flood plain, swamped with water for most of the year, as a hiding place? What did they do in their day jobs, if any? Were they discovered, leading to the still being abandoned, or did prohibition finally end? So many questions, likely never to be answered. It's little details like this that make my travels so enriching, and keep me coming back for more.
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