~~~~~"'Mum's' the Word"
Confession of a former Barnegat Bay rumrunner

Back in nineteen-thirty, I was sixteen years of age -
even grown men found it hard to earn a livin' wage.
Times was hard and money scarce; my ol' man was dead.
I'm all Mom had to help her keep a roof above her head.
I worked the bay; but like most folks then, we was poor as beggers.
Them as prospered, it was whispered, had to be bootleggers -
which had to do with "foreign ships," and "whiskey contraband"
tied up with "prohibition," not too hard to understand.

Me 'n Mom eked out ar livin' best as we was able,
for bare necessities and meager food upon the table.
Then poor Mom took to ailin', she needed ol' Doc bad -
tho' she wouldn't let me fetch him for the little cash we had.
I figured I'd find extry work, so I inquired around.
It wasn't long I realized, there was no jobs to be found.

Then, me 'n my pal Joe, approached this Cap'n that we knew.
He said, "Come back this evenin', I'll see what I can do.
I know an agent from the city headin' out this way.
The job he's got's pertik'ler, but he doesn't stint on pay.
He ain't never hired no kids; but I don't see why not.
Yer strong as men; I s'pose it rests on how much nerve ya got."

The agent drove a big black Ford. "You need a job, I heard.
Well, before we can discuss it, you must promise, 'mums' the word."
The "job" was jest as we'd suspected; haulin' rum from ships;
but the pay was more than I'd expected - twenty bucks a trip!
(A double sawbuck was "good dough" in that year, nineteen-thirty;
tho' well we both knew, dot that way, our folks would class it "dirty.")
He said, "Fellers, talk it over - it's a serious decision;
you'd need to buy a fast boat, but you can't arouse suspicion."

We figured we didn't have much choice, we'd try it for awhile;
to sorta help ar famblies live in little better style.
"One other thin," the agent warned, "the Coast Guard might give chase.
In that case ditch the rum, and lead 'em on a merry race.
If they ketch you they could charge you, or confiscate your boat.
(Go back and pick the rum up, when it's safer; it'll float.)
But jest in case your luck runs out, you've never heard of me;
remember, always, 'Mums' the word - on that we must agree."
We didn't have dough to buy a boat; we snuck Joe's pa's on loan.
We had to take the chance 'til we could git one of ar own.

The first time that we brung a load and met the agent's truck;
we, each one, got a tenspot and we couldn't believe our luck.
I lied, when Mom got cur'us where my extry dough come from.
She wouldn'a touched it if she knew I got it runnin' rum.

Weeks passed; we set aside some savin's we didn't dar to use.
Besides, like other runners, we learnt to hold our booze.
Once we nipped; but choked so bad, that one time was enough.
But, on the Q. T. we could get five dollars for the stuff.

Oh, we had anxious moments, encountering the Guard;
the times they almos' caught us, I'll tell ya we pushed hard.
But that was kidstuff when compared with that night comin' in.
We'd met the ship, got loaded, and was almos' back again.
When down the beach we spied these lights we'd never seen before.
Then we heard gunfire ring out, in the darkness, near the shore.
We thought for sure they'd spotted us - we shook - we was that scared;
and there'd been boats ahead of ars, we feared for how they fared.
That rumor must'a been true about Federal men in town;
we coasted to the nearest cove and let our anchor down.

Somethin' strange was hap'nin - you could feel it in the air;
the pickup truck that always met us wasn't even there.
Quietly, we piled reeds on the whiskey and boat.
Joe had sale for two quarts, so he slipped them in his coat.
We slunk out on our bellies 'til we hit the pinewood's trail;
glancin' backerts, half expectin' revenooers on our tail.
We breathed a whole lot easier when we was thru' the woods;
discussin' which poor suckers must'a got caught with the goods.
I lauded Joe and he did me, for how we'd tricked the Feds;
we snuck into ar homes, and soon was safely in ar beds.

Next morn, I heard of nine arrests, while we'd played "cat and mouse" -
but worse, the news that later on, Feds raided Joe's folk's house!
They found the whiskey in his coat, he shouldered all the blame;
for Mom's sake I was thankful he kept mum about my name.
They charged him with "possession" and carted him to jail;
and they eyed me with suspicion when I come up with the bail.
So, after that, the rest of prohibition, we laid low;
and that's exactly how it happened, many years ago.

-Lillian Arnold Lopez "Pineylore"

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