Panel text reads:
LOOKING FOR MOONSHINE
As the Christmas season approached, my friends Cynthia, Jack and I, decided to give a holiday party. We were students at Black Mountain College in North Carolina. The town of Black Mountain was then situated in a "dry" county. Imagination, not gourmet food, was the key to this undertaking and corn liquor was the key to a successful party.
On a snowy afternoon, crowding together in Cynthia's green Ford convertible, much like revenue agents, we set out looking for moonshine. After cruising on isolated mountain roads, we discovered a small house and what looked like an active still. How were we to approach the moonshiner for his booze? Much against my wishes, I was pushed forward with words like "Eva, you can do it!"
Dusk was falling rapidly. Smoke came in small gusts from the house and I ventured into the cold standing in front of a dilapidated structure, not daring to go in. Finally, I knocked at the door as my fellow adventurers sat snugly in the car. The door opened with a loud squeak and a large man motioned me inside. The corridor was dark and I followed him. Though there were some windows, the room was dark. The man turned around, looked at me and grunted, "what do you want?" He was round bellied and wore a sleeveless T-shirt. There were blood stains on his shirt. Little tufts of reddish-blond hair grew on his scalp. His hands were large and bare. I could not speak. I forgot about my friends waiting outside, and thought this man is going to murder me to protect his still. The man advanced towards me, and once more, my eyes took in the blood stains on his undershirt. His flesh seemed very white. We looked at each other in silence. "Moonshine," I uttered. He gestured me to follow him. Suddenly, in the recess of the room, I saw a vague outline. It was the carcass of a dead pig. The moonshiner handed me several bottles and we negotiated a price. I smelled and tasted the moonshine. It was OK. As fast as I could, I dashed to the safety of the car. I felt that I had escaped great harm.
I am told that we gave a fine holiday party. To this day, I cannot remember this event. Though I spent another year at Black Mountain College, I never went looking for another still; I never drank moonshine again! I never discussed this adventure. Cynthia and Jack, where are you now?
Eva Schlein Jungerman
From SNIPPETS: Personal Recollections.
JAI Press, 1994.
LOOKING FOR MOONSHINE
As the Christmas season approached, my friends Cynthia, Jack and I, decided to give a holiday party. We were students at Black Mountain College in North Carolina. The town of Black Mountain was then situated in a "dry" county. Imagination, not gourmet food, was the key to this undertaking and corn liquor was the key to a successful party.
On a snowy afternoon, crowding together in Cynthia's green Ford convertible, much like revenue agents, we set out looking for moonshine. After cruising on isolated mountain roads, we discovered a small house and what looked like an active still. How were we to approach the moonshiner for his booze? Much against my wishes, I was pushed forward with words like "Eva, you can do it!"
Dusk was falling rapidly. Smoke came in small gusts from the house and I ventured into the cold standing in front of a dilapidated structure, not daring to go in. Finally, I knocked at the door as my fellow adventurers sat snugly in the car. The door opened with a loud squeak and a large man motioned me inside. The corridor was dark and I followed him. Though there were some windows, the room was dark. The man turned around, looked at me and grunted, "what do you want?" He was round bellied and wore a sleeveless T-shirt. There were blood stains on his shirt. Little tufts of reddish-blond hair grew on his scalp. His hands were large and bare. I could not speak. I forgot about my friends waiting outside, and thought this man is going to murder me to protect his still. The man advanced towards me, and once more, my eyes took in the blood stains on his undershirt. His flesh seemed very white. We looked at each other in silence. "Moonshine," I uttered. He gestured me to follow him. Suddenly, in the recess of the room, I saw a vague outline. It was the carcass of a dead pig. The moonshiner handed me several bottles and we negotiated a price. I smelled and tasted the moonshine. It was OK. As fast as I could, I dashed to the safety of the car. I felt that I had escaped great harm.
I am told that we gave a fine holiday party. To this day, I cannot remember this event. Though I spent another year at Black Mountain College, I never went looking for another still; I never drank moonshine again! I never discussed this adventure. Cynthia and Jack, where are you now?
Eva Schlein Jungerman
From SNIPPETS: Personal Recollections.
JAI Press, 1994.
Artwork: 1995.40.1
Looking for Moonshine In Snippits: Personal Recollections
1995
Printed ink on foam board
This work was created for the 1995 exhibition Remembering Black Mountain College curated by Mary Emma Harris in conjunction with Black Mountain College Museum + Arts Center and the BMC alumni reunion organized by Mary Holden Thompson, founding director of BMCM+AC.
24 x 18 inches
In copyright
Gift of Eva Schlein Jungermann
Eva Schlein Jungermann, Looking for Moonshine In Snippits: Personal Recollections, 1995. Printed ink on foam board. Collection of Black Mountain College Museum + Arts Center. Gift of the artist.
![Remembering Black Mountain College [Catalog]](https://collections.blackmountaincollege.org/media/collectiveaccess/images/2/2/13393_ca_object_representations_media_2226_icon.jpg){kind=icon}