Givin’ the People What They Want

By Christopher B. Scharping

In 1920, the US government, at the request mostly of a new army of female voters in America, turned off the tap that had served Americans cold beer and liquor. The Volstead Act made the sale of alcohol illegal throughout the forty-eight states.

A nation surrounded by water rose up to provide. Liquor came ashore from all directions: the Pacific Coast, the Gulf of Mexico, the Caribbean, the Atlantic Coast, and across the Great Lakes from Canada. Our story looks at the smuggling from Canada across Lake Ontario. Since colonial times, liquor had been brought legally and illegally, usually to sidestep the paying of taxes on the products. Now it was brought into the country to provide what the government had tried to take away. The Volstead Act inadvertently created a whole new smuggling system. New terms came into the general vocabulary: Prohibition agent, speakeasy, rum runners (who brought the illegal cargo in by water), and bootleggers (who drove the liquor along the nations roadways). Our story will be mainly focused on the rum runners, although the bootleggers will be represented as well.

My grandfather, Charles Frederick Scharping, owned a farm on Lower Lake Road that bordered Lake Ontario. In 1955, my parents built a cottage on the farm at the edge of the lake. The spot where our cottage was located, on Scharping Lane, was the spot where rum runners would bring their illegal cargoes. They sold them to the bootleggers for cash. These rum runners braved over fifty miles of water from the shores of Orleans County to the pickup points along the Canadian shore. The return trips were challenged by weather, hijackers, and the US Coast Guard. Waves up to eight feet tall were common during the frequent storms. Many lost their lives.

This Volstead Law lasted for twelve years. It was a bloody time where fortunes were made and lives lost.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524557676

Christopher B. Scharping

Born in Medina, New York, located between Buffalo and Rochester, Christopher B. Scharping now lives in Panama City, Florida, with his wife, Catherine. This is his fourth book and his first novel. A former career historian for the US Air Force, a world traveler, and a former teacher of history and English, Chris brings his unique talents to the art of storytelling. He enjoys reading and writing historical novels. His interests include classic rock music and classic movies from the 1930s through the 1960s. He and Catherine thoroughly enjoy the beauty of living in North Florida, often walking the beautiful beaches there.

Book preview

Givin’ The People What They Want

Chapter 1

Point Breeze, NY, Thursday, May 18th, 1922

Twenty-year-old James Wolfe looked up at the dark sky for probably the tenth time since they left Oak Orchard Creek at Point Breeze to head out into Lake Ontario. It was close to midnight, and they had a journey of about fifty miles over and the same to get home…if those Feds from the Bureau of Internal Revenue didn’t catch up with them. With one last glance at the threatening clouds, James turned to his father, Raymond Wolfe, saying, Dad, it sure looks like some bad weather comin’ up from the southwest. Whaddya think?

Slow to smile, Ray looked at his younger son. James, ya worry too much. I’ve been runnin’ this lake for most of my life. My daddy taught me how to read ole’ Shining Waters out there like she was a newspaper. She’s got some tricks, but I seen’em all before. You just do what I tell ya and we’ll be just fine. You might as well catch a little shut-eye. Nothin’s gonna happen for a while.

How fast can this boat go?

They say it can hit thirty-five to forty miles per hour on a decent night. This is a great boat. These Hacker 26s cost a small fortune. We’d never have a boat like this to play with if it wasn’t for the bootleggers. Old Doc Johnson set this up with some boys from Rochester. This one has a hopped-up Liberty V-12 airplane engine in her. The prop is new and solid. The extra gas tanks’ll get us over and back if we don’t hafta run on full to get away from the Coast Guard. Them Coasties can’t match us for speed. I figure if they’re gonna hit us, they’ll wait until we’ve got a load aboard. Otherwise, they got nothin’ if we go to court.

The conversation died out. The swirling mists got worse as the trip went on, making visibility difficult. Despite his best efforts, James eventually slid into a deep sleep, cradling the Winchester 94 rifle on his lap. Ray kept glancing at his compass as they slid through the waves en route to Canada. He inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of the lake. It was the one place in his life that he ever truly felt at home.

A little more than two hours later, Ray awakened James softly. Son, we’re a couple miles from Port Hope. Time ta wake up and look sharp. James awoke quickly but silently. He rubbed his eyes and began searching the blackness around them for any sign of hijackers skulking around to steal their load of whiskey. The federal agents in their boats couldn’t bother them while they were in Canadian waters. When no other boats were sighted, Ray guided the Hacker runabout into the mouth of the Ganaraska River, moving slowly towards the darkened dock area off Mill Street South. It was now a little after two o’clock. The little town was fast asleep.

Many other rum runners went to Cobourq, a larger Canadian town to the east, to pick up their loads. Ray’s big boss called himself Mr. Samuelson. He was a relocated New York City native and had visited both the Canadian towns to scout them. His opinion was that Port Hope was a better spot to pick up the loads of illegal liquor. Samuelson felt they had a better chance to avoid the prohibition agent boats by using that port. He also thought fewer hijackers were in that area, trying to grab free liquor after his rum runners had paid for their loads. It was Ray’s idea to bring the Winchester along to keep from possibly being stopped by officials or hijackers. He knew James was a crack shot with the rifle. Ray also had a 1911 Colt .45 automatic pistol in a clip holster attached to the boat right next to the steering wheel. The Colt had great stopping power, but made a lot of noise in a firefight. So far they hadn’t had to use any weapons during the hundred or so trips they made across the lake and back. They had heard stories about hijackers and believed them after seeing some boats that had been shot up.

Crime heaped upon crime. The profits to be had were large, but the risks were huge, too. Many lives had already been lost during the two years that Prohibition had been enforced. The shootouts became more and more vicious, and the lake had claimed many who couldn’t read her signs like Ray could. Now he was teaching James those same navigation and boat handling tricks he had spent a lifetime learning.

Finding the berth where he had been told to tie up, Ray cut the motor. James jumped up and made the runabout fast to the piers. They waited. In a few moments, they heard a truck slowly and quietly rolling towards them. They watched the driver cut the headlights farther up the concrete dock while still driving towards them. The truck turned around to face the town. A man silently climbed out of the truck and walked towards them. When he got to the edge of the berth, he squatted down, quietly asking, Ray?

Yeah, got something for me?

James held the Winchester tightly as the two men exchanged several code words to ensure that each was who he said he was. When they were satisfied, the man walked back to the truck and moved it closer to the boat. Two men hopped out of the back. A third man began handing down cases of Scotch whiskey, which the first two men began stacking on a pair of hand trucks.

They pushed the hand trucks over to the dock and slid the stacks off. The truck driver began handing them down to Ray, who handed them in turn to James. James began stacking them in the third cockpit, the one closest to the stern of the runabout. He filled that one and then started filling the larger second cockpit. When he finished, they had thirty-five cases safely aboard. James covered them with oilskin tarps, tying them down securely. He smiled to himself, thinking that he was the temporary owner of a fortune in booze. What sold for $4 a bottle in Canada was worth $20 a bottle across the lake in New York. With twelve quart-bottles to a case, each case was worth $240. That put the value of the load at $8,400. Not bad for a night’s work…if you could get it home safely.

One of the driver’s men dragged a hose from the back of the truck. He passed it to James, who opened the starboard tank’s gas cap. The Canadian waved to the guys by the truck, and soon James could feel gas passing through the hose. He watched carefully as the needle on the makeshift gauge rose towards the full mark. As it did, he raised his hand. The man on the dock quietly signaled the men by the truck to stop pumping. The process was then repeated for the portside tank until it was full, too.

Ray reached under the front seat and brought out an oilskin-wrapped bundle. He opened it and handed a stack of American dollars to the truck driver, who looked through them carefully. He glanced up and smiled. Ray handed him the rest of the cash. James watched closely as the driver examined that too. He shook Ray’s hand, saying, Pleasure doing business with you, chum. See you next time, eh? He walked back to his truck and drove away with his men in the back.

Okay, James, time to go home.

James freed up the lines while Ray started the Hacker runabout’s motor. It roared powerfully before settling down into a smooth idle. As they moved slowly down the channel heading back to the lake, James felt raindrops gently striking his face and hands. He turned towards his dad who looked grim. Well son, looks like a little rain for the ride home. Check those tie-downs on the cases before I open up the engine.

James nodded. He climbed into the middle cockpit and found all the lines tight. Being careful on the rain-slick wood, James continued on to the rear cockpit to check the cases and their lines. Everything was as secure as possible. The ride would get pretty bumpy, if this storm rose. They headed out into the lake. As soon as Ray cleared the breakwater, he gunned the engine and they leaped forward into the lake and the growing storm.

A little more than twenty minutes later, a spotlight illuminated, capturing them in its beam. Ray immediately wheeled the boat directly towards the hijacker boat. Shouting over the roaring engine, Ray told James, Hit that light as soon as we’re close enough. You’ll only get one shot, maybe two. You can do it!

The boat continued to turn towards the light, which was moving slowly towards them. Ray increased to maximum speed. The runabout responded like an excited stallion. The rear of the boat dipped down in the lake, the front of the runabout rose as the speed increased. When it looked like they could get no closer, James fired twice rapidly. The searchlight went black. Ray grinned at him and quickly swung the boat’s bow straight south towards home. He kept the boat going at full speed for an hour before letting off a bit. During that time, James kept his eyes glued for any pursuit. There was none in the inky blackness behind them or on either side. The boat slapped the waves as it sped through them, rising and falling at the crest of each one.

The lake was getting rougher. Large waves of foamy green water were breaking over the bow, soaking both men’s faces. They had oilskin slickers on now, which kept them relatively dry as they pounded through the cold waves. Ray backed the speed off a bit more, motioning for James to check the cargo again.

James nodded, carefully inching back into the second cockpit again. He snugged down the lines before moving to the rear cockpit where he repeated the process. Everything was riding well, despite their maneuvers to escape the hijackers and the bouncing around caused by the rising storm.

After about twenty minutes or so, James offered to take the wheel. Ray shook his head. Although James was a good sailor, he wasn’t as savvy about the deep lake as Ray was. Maybe next time, son. Yer doin’ fine. Just keep checkin’ on that load. With these waves, it’d be no good if it broke loose. Your mother would never forgive me. They both laughed at that one, knowing her famous temper as they did.

James climbed back to check the two cockpits. The boat was riding the waves well, but rocking strongly, making movement back there even more hazardous. Ray had slowed the boat enough to settle it a bit, but James still had to be totally focused on both the waves and the movement of the runabout to keep from being pitched overboard. The upper surfaces of the highly varnished boat were very slick. The rear load had loosened a bit. James secured it once again before heading back up to the bow. He caught a glimpse of something off to their southwest. He stared into the darkness. There it was again!

Sliding into the forward cockpit, he hollered above the engine and the storm, Dad, I saw something off to the southwest but couldn’t tell what it was. Might be another boat.

Ray whipped his head around to that direction. He stared intently into the inky darkness. There! He saw it, too. Checking the waves, he moved the boat to a more southeasterly direction, increasing his speed as he did so. He was thinking, ‘Since we’re nearin’ the middle of the lake, it could be a revenuer boat…or it could be another hijacker, or even another rum runner.’ Whichever it was, he and James would be ready for them. James, did you reload after that business earlier?

Sure, Pop. I’m full up with eight cartridges. Got a pocketful, in case we need more. Who do you think they are?

It don’t matter. We’ll handle it the same way. Shoot fast and shoot straight. Ray looked down at the waterproof holster holding the .45 Colt automatic. He knew he could do a lot of damage with that one if he had to.

The waves kept getting higher. James estimated they were probably seven feet or taller now. They lost sight of the other boat but continued on the course for another half hour while keeping their speed at the fastest possible speed that the conditions would allow. Finally, Ray brought them back on a course to head for the farm where they would be unloading tonight. James shook his head. He just couldn’t get over his father’s sense of where he was on the lake. It was almost spooky. James wasn’t sure that he could learn to do what Ray did so naturally. The rain was picking up even more now, stinging their faces, despite the small windscreen in front of the cockpit. They could see lightning off to their southwest, not far from their destination.

Another hour went by, and Ray throttled back the engine. As they slowed, they had to be even more watchful for the waves. Ray nudged James, pointing to the lantern down by his feet. James picked it up and lit the wick. Holding on to the bar in front of him, James raised the lamp and swung it slowly from left to right three times. Then he lowered it. He counted to twenty and repeated the signal. He waited, watching for a reply. It came quickly, a hundred yards or so to their left. James smiled, secretly pleased that his dad had been a bit off in his navigation after all. He turned to his dad and nodded. James pointed to where the lights had flashed. Ray headed in that direction.

As they idled towards the shore, another light came on, lower than the first. That would be the guys on the makeshift pier. They were nearly home free. One more signal remained. There it was: four rapid flashes from a flashlight on the pier. James replied with four rapid flashes on his own flashlight. He extinguished the lantern. Ray swung the boat around, pointing the bow towards the lake as they docked on the east side of the pier. Ray called out to the guys on the dark pier and uttered one word: Broad. From the darkness, someone else said, Sword.

Ray and James secured the boat to the pier. Okay, let’s get this giggle water unloaded. Two lanterns were lit on the pier. Ray held the one in the runabout as James climbed into the second cockpit to loosen the ropes holding the whiskey cases in place. He got the ropes off and removed the oilskin. There was water in the flooring under the cases, but the wooden cases were intact and relatively dry. He lifted case after case, handing them up one by one to men reaching down from the pier above. There were four men carrying cases of whiskey to a truck parked up on the higher lake bank. The glow of a lantern up there showed James a man holding what looked like a Tommy gun. ‘Man, these guys are serious!’ he thought to himself.

The man holding the Thompson submachine gun saw James looking at his gun. You like this, kid? We stole a bunch of them from a Customs warehouse in New York City a year ago. The Micks had bought’em to fight the British. We’ll use’em right here in the good ol’ U.S. of A. Think of it as a life insurance plan! James nodded his head and looked back towards the boat.

Soon the thirty-five cases had been removed from the boat. The man who had answered the code word exchange handed Ray an envelope. They shook hands. Ray caught James’ eye and nodded towards the boat. The two of them untied it and climbed aboard. Quickly, Ray started the engine, and they headed back out into the darkness of the lake. James, I didn’t know any of those guys. This is gettin’ a little outta hand. I like dealin’ with guys I know. I gotta admit that I was getting’ kinda nervous when I saw that guy with the chopper up on the bank. That’s a new wrinkle, too.

They rode in silence for a while, reflecting on the storm and all that had happened. It was now nearly four o’clock in the morning. The sun would be rising soon. Ray turned into Oak Orchard Creek and idled slowly back to the boathouse where the runabout was stored. Ray’s cousin, Bob, was there to reinstall the seats into the middle and rear cockpits. When he was finished doing that, nobody would suspect that this runabout was anything more than a rich man’s plaything, and certainly not what mischief it had been up to on stormy Lake Ontario during that night. They hoisted the boat up into the boathouse, locked the hoist into position, and headed home. Ray handed Bob a couple of $50 bills from the envelope. The rest he tucked back into the rear pocket of his pants. James never knew how much his father made from these trips. He was quite satisfied with the hundred dollars he had earned.

The next day around noon, James struggled out of bed. He sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes as the bright sunshine flooded through his window. ‘How could it be so bright after that storm last night?’ he wondered. He finally stood and headed for the bathroom to get washed up before heading downstairs for something to eat. He was supposed to work the second shift at the Medina Daily Journal newspaper. James had been accepted as an apprentice printer, but aspired to become a writer and reporter. Since graduating from high school the year before, he had drifted through several jobs before starting this one five months earlier. James found the printing work noisy but interesting. On his breaks and during slow periods, he would drift into the newsroom to talk to either of the two reporters who might be there. He had learned a bit about how they did their jobs. Watching them write, make telephone calls, and even interview people, James made up his mind to shoot for the moon…even if it meant going back to school to study journalism.

The subject of school made James think of Amelia Rose Trexler. He had been in love with Amelia since the very first time he had pulled her long blonde braids glowing nearly white in the sunshine during recess in first grade. She hadn’t cried or fought back as some of the other little girl targets had on the playground. She turned towards him, making a face that showed her disappointment. It shook James up. To cover up his embarrassment, James had asked her if she liked to play cowboys and Indians. To his surprise, she said she loved it, but only if she could be a cowboy, too. She explained that it was her secret dream to have a horse and to live in the Old West. They spent many happy hours playing cowboys and Indians on the school playground and back home near the lake. There weren’t many children on the road leading to Point Breeze, but they all got along fairly well as they pretended to fight off the Indian attacks.

It took him a week or so to figure out that he was in love. As far as he was concerned at the tender age of six, there was no finer person on Earth than Amelia Rose. Luckily, she felt he was worthy of her. His older brother, Richard Allen Wolfe, was his other hero. Richard teased James about being in love, but that didn’t seem to alter James’ amorous antics. James took the teasing from his big brother, but only up to a point. They had come to blows over it several times over the years since.

Now, fourteen years later, Amelia was a student at the Brockport State Normal School, where she was learning to be a teacher. There were three routes to reaching that goal. She had chosen the most difficult, the Classic Curriculum. She was just finishing her second year, and it had been a difficult one for James; he very much disliked the separation during each week. It was hard for him to be away from that face, those silvery blue eyes. Amelia’s parents, Matthew and Elizabeth Trexler, had insisted that she live in the dormitory at school during the week. On weekends, she rode the trolley from Brockport to Albion, where James picked her up and brought her back home to the lake.

Using his earnings from rum running, James bought a year old Ford Model T closed-body sedan. Once he had it, he took it to Jack Thompson to make it sportier. Jack was a bootlegger that worked with James’ brother, Richard, who rode shotgun with him. Jack was a terrific driver and, more importantly to James, he was an expert mechanic. He could rebuild any kind of engine, making it stronger and faster. Jack also came up with other modifications that made the car ride better, too. James was very satisfied with the final product. It rode better and was faster than any other Model T around the area. Today it was just his means of transportation. He drove steadily to the Ridge Road, also known then as New York Route 30. He crossed the Ridge and stayed on Route 74 all the way to Albion, ten miles from his home near the lake. Driving through downtown Albion, the county seat of Orleans County, he turned to the right on Telegraph Road, which took him to Medina, another ten-mile drive. Coming into Medina, he slowed down a bit for the village’s twenty-five mile per hour speed limit. He turned north on Main Street to the newspaper office. He drove down behind the building to the parking area near the Erie Barge Canal.

James got out of the car quickly and dashed to the rear entrance of the old building. He hustled to the time clock and punched in just a few minutes late. Ed Bidell, another pressman, was watching him as he walked into where the Babcock cylinder printing press was. Late again, James? The boss isn’t going to be happy with you. You’d better watch yourself.

Don’t you worry about me, Ed. I’ll own this place one day. You just wait and see. James laughed and quickly went to work on the set-up for the next day’s paper. He was lightning fast at setting up. Today’s paper was already printed and ready for distribution. Other men were busy loading trucks with newspapers and handing out smaller stacks to a mob of newsboys who performed the door-to-door deliveries throughout the village on their bicycles.

At ten that evening, James climbed back into his car for the drive back to Point Breeze. He really loved the work he was doing at the newspaper. It sure didn’t pay much, but that was no problem with the rather large salary he was getting for his work as a rum runner. They often made four or five runs across to Canada during the week and James earned one hundred dollars for each trip.

In order to appear legitimate, each of them had to have an honest job to satisfy those small town inquisitive minds. James’ father, Ray, was a boat mechanic and did repairs to the boat bodies, too. James’ brother, Richard, earned a lot of money for riding shotgun on the bootlegger trips, while running liquor into Rochester or wherever he was directed. He was also working at a lumberyard in Albion. His partner, Jack Thompson, was the driver for the bootleggers and had a job at a garage in Albion near the Erie Canal, where he was an ace mechanic. Richard was bigger than Jack, standing an inch or so over six feet. He was handsome and powerfully built. Jack was smaller, but had a way with the ladies that Richard was a bit jealous about. The two also got along like brothers.

The trick for all of them was to control their spending; something Jack Thompson was not very good at doing. He tended to flash cash and often wore flashy clothes that his flapper girlfriends liked. James figured Jack would be the first of them to get caught. James’ mother, Lillian, loved spending money, too. She made sure she never shopped in the same place frequently, but always came home from Buffalo or Rochester with plenty of new clothing, jewelry, and fancy scents.

James’ father, Ray, had his hands full keeping Lillian from showing off their new-found riches. So far, that was working. As long as he took her to one of several speakeasies around western New York so they could dance and drink, Lillian was content, or as content as she ever could be, given her temperament. She was a beautiful, lusty woman and, although she was forty years old, she could easily pass for thirty. Ray was hopelessly in love with her and catered to her every whim…well, nearly every whim. Nobody wanted to go to jail, so they tried to keep things relatively quiet.

Saturday, James hopped out of bed by eight o’clock. He quickly bathed and got into clean clothes before heading downstairs. He kissed his mother good morning as she sat at the kitchen table having a cup of coffee and a cigarette. It seemed like she was always either smoking or watching one burn up in the ever-present ashtray. He was dressed in a medium-blue suit. Lillian smiled at her son. Well, you look pretty flashy for a Saturday morning. I’ll bet you are spending the day with Amelia Rose, am I right? He nodded and headed for the door. Wait a minute, buster. Let me take a look at ya. James did a slow turn so she could see his snappy new clothing. Lillian could see that the suit was fashioned from medium weight, all-wool, unfinished worsted material. It had neat pencil stripes about one-half inch apart. There was no belt, just a stylish single breasted coat. It was trimly fit to his body, with long soft-roll lapels, slanting pockets, and a vent in back. His white shirt was nicely ironed, and he wore a navy blue tie with light blue stripes on it. His brown leather shoes were polished perfectly, and he carried a men’s Trooper-style medium gray fur felt hat. Well, ya sure don’t look like you’ll be playing cowboys today like when you two were kids. Pretty flashy, mister.

James flashed a smile. As he headed out the door, he called over his shoulder, Don’t wait dinner for me. I’ll be home late. Lillian just shook her head and smiled. Both her boys loved the ladies, something they got from their father. Lillian thought back to the hot romance she had had with Ray in school and how Richard had come along before either of them had finished high school. She shrugged her shoulders. Finishing school hadn’t seemed important to either of them back then, or now. She wished Ray was home right now so they could have another hot time in the sack as they had at sunrise this morning. But Ray had to be at the marina. There were lots of boats to get ready for the big summer season that was only a few weeks away. She’d just have to find something to busy herself with until he got home late this afternoon. She’d find a way to talk him into a trip into Buffalo. She really wanted to get to the Saturn Club tonight. That was the swankiest speakeasy in the area. She looked forward to parading her body in there to drive all the men wild with desire. Last time, she and Ray hadn’t made it out of the parking lot before they were having sex in their car. She smiled at the memory as she cleaned up the kitchen.

James got into his car and drove two houses down the road to pick up Amelia Rose. He barely stopped in the driveway when he saw the tall, pretty blonde come bounding out of the house and run to his car. Noting her red tam hat, stylish red blouse, and a black skirt, he couldn’t help but revel in her beauty and fashion sense…something she had talked about to him many times. He reached over and pushed her door open. Without breaking stride, she turned, slid in on the seat, and threw her arms around him. Oh James, I thought you’d never get here! Let’s go…anywhere!

He grinned at her and pulled the shifter into reverse. He got to the road and turned so they were headed south, away from the lake and off towards Albion. James stopped for the sign at the end of the road. He looked to his left to see if anything was coming. When he turned to look to the right, Amelia grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him passionately. He happily returned her ardor. The temperature in the car shot up like the noontime sun on a summer’s day. Whew! That’s what I call a hello! Everything okay in the house?

Oh, my mother is driving me crazy again. She wants me to apply at other colleges. She thinks I’m wasting my time becoming a teacher. I just don’t know.

What’s your dad say?

He still thinks I should have applied at the University of Buffalo to get into their medical school. I’m not sure I want to do that. I scored high enough to get accepted, but I’m not certain that’s what I want to do with my life. Sometimes I wish we had just run away out West so we could be cowboys.

Wow, I haven’t thought about that in a long time. Whatever you choose to do with your life, I just hope I’m part of it. I can’t imagine not being with you, Amelia.

I love hearing you say that. Now let’s see what’s on at the movies. They drove to Albion and found that the Family Theatre and the Temple Theatre had two movies to choose from. At the Family Theater, they were showing ‘The Primitive Lover’, starring Constance Talmadge. At The Temple Theater, they were showing ‘Her Gilded Cage’, starring Gloria Swanson. James and Amelia decided on The Family Theater. They got their tickets, bought some popcorn, and were escorted to their seats by the uniformed usher. Amelia’s beauty was not lost on the usher. James shot him a look that said hands off, buster. The usher got the message.

The entertainment soon began. A lady took her seat at an organ in the front left corner of the theater’s seating area. She played a musical overture as people continued to be seated for the performance. When everyone was seated, a large red velvet curtain trimmed in gold fringe was opened to reveal the movie screen. A projector at the elevated rear of the theater began showing a newsreel dealing with recent events around the nation and the world. This week, the newsreel showed legendary sharpshooter Annie Oakley setting a women’s record by breaking one hundred clay targets in a row, and Chicago White Sox pitcher Charles Robertson’s perfect game against the Detroit Tigers, defeating them two runs to none. The newsreel also showed construction progress on the new Yankee baseball stadium in New York City, and NY Giants Jesse Barnes as he pitched a no-hit game against the Philadelphia Phillies for a win. The lady played exciting music on the organ during the sequences about baseball.

The next entertainment was two short comedy features, one featuring the cross-eyed Ben Turpin and another featuring Roscoe ‘Fatty’ Arbuckle. The audience roared with laughter during these comedies. As those faded, the curtain was drawn closed again. The feature film began on the closed curtain which opened to reveal the screen once again. James and Amelia sat close together as ‘The Primitive Lover’ began. In the romantic comedy film, Constance Talmadge was married to actor Harrison Ford. Their marriage was obviously in trouble. Constance was disenchanted with Harrison. She was reading an action-packed romance novel, deciding that her husband’s gentle ways weren’t as appealing as the rough-and-ready image of the character in her book. She begins having memories of her former beau, Donald, an adventurer and romance novelist who was lost during an adventure in South America. Suddenly, Donald returns from his adventure, and whisks Constance off to Reno, Nevada for a quickie divorce. Her husband Harrison realizes what he has lost, follows her to Nevada, and finally convinces her that Donald is a fraud, thereby winning her back. The audience loved the happy ending with its moralistic climax as well as the naughty wife who thought the grass was greener with a different husband.

As they filed out of the theater, James and Amelia held hands. They crossed the street and went to a soda shop to get some ice cream. Well, what did you think about that movie? James inquired.

Hunching her shoulders, she replied, I thought she was pretty fickle. I also wondered how long she waited after the first fella was reported lost before she married her husband. It was hard to tell how much time had elapsed.

Wrinkling up his forehead, James looked thoughtful. Oh, I see what you mean. So if she waited a long time, she should have been over him before she married her husband?

Sure, it would be silly to marry somebody if you didn’t love them completely. That can never last, she said as she spooned another large bite of vanilla ice cream, chocolate hot fudge, and Spanish peanuts with whipped cream into her mouth.

James sputtered, Holy mackerel, I can’t believe you took a bite that big!

Oh Yeah? Well, watch…here comes another one! she mumbled through her mouthful of delight.

I like to hear what you think about things like this so I can know what you think marriage is all about. I don’t want you pining away for some fella once we are married.

Hold on, buster. Did I miss something? I don’t seem to remember you asking me to marry you.

Choking a bit on the large mouthful he had just shoved into his mouth, James retorted, "But I thought we had an understanding. You are planning to marry me, isn’t that so?" His face revealed his sudden concern and surprise.

Well, I guess you won’t know the answer to that until you actually pop the question, she smirked. Besides, what future is there for me if you go and get yourself killed on these midnight boat rides?

Shhh! Not so loud. I should never have told you about that.

The conversation died off as they concentrated on finishing their hot fudge sundaes. Leaving the sweet shop, they decided to stroll along Main Street, as many people were doing on the lovely Saturday afternoon. Amelia loved looking in the shop windows, and James loved looking at her.

After window shopping a bit, they decided to drive to their favorite spot along the lake. They drove north on Route 74, Oak Orchard Road, until turning left to go west on the Ridge Road, Route 104. Riding along the ridge, they looked at the farms and small forests along the way. When they got to Ridgeway, James stopped at the gas station there and filled his tank. Gas was up to eight cents per gallon. It seemed like the price of everything was on the rise.

Getting back into the car, they turned north on Route 63, the Lyndonville Road. In Lyndonville, they stopped at the drug store on Main Street and James treated Amelia to a cup of coffee and a sandwich. They sat talking to a few people they knew for a while, relaxing. Since the day was so nice, Amelia suggested, Let’s go walk by the dam and look at the water. James smiled. He took the check to the cash register and paid for their supper. He took Amelia’s hand as they stood outside for a moment before walking to the road over the creek. After a few moments, they crossed to the west side of Main Street to see the wide-waters there and the water spilling quietly over the dam. There was another couple rowing a boat across the water. It was a relaxing and beautiful spot. Staring at the water, James thought about their trip to Canada scheduled for tonight. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but he had given his word to his father that he would help with each load. It was too late to get out of it now, nearly two years too late.

He was thinking how much more time he could spend with Amelia if he didn’t have to be with his father in the boat carrying whiskey. Gruffly, he said, Well, let’s get down to Shadigee and see what’s happening at the skating rink. Amelia looked at him sharply, unsure why he was suddenly angry. They walked back to the car in silence.

Arriving at the end of the Lyndonville Road near the shore of Lake Ontario, James parked the car. Together, they walked over to the Shadigee hotel. It was just a little after six o’clock, but there was already a pretty good-sized crowd dancing to a Victrola playing over in the corner. The combo that would be playing there that night was setting up their equipment, a piano, trumpet, trombone, clarinet, and a drummer. The band, calling themselves ‘The Lake Shores’, were high school kids from Barker, but James had heard a rumor that they were pretty good. He hoped it would be a great evening for Amelia and him.

James knew he would have to leave early, though. He and his father, Ray, would be heading across the lake at midnight for another ‘run for the hooch’, as Ray would label it. He knew they were using a larger boat tonight, one they hadn’t used before. They were scheduled to bring back a really big load. But he ordered himself to stop thinking about business and to concentrate on Amelia instead.

She was excited about the prospect of a dance. If there was one thing that Amelia loved to do, it was dance. James remembered watching her as a little girl in the Trexlers’ front yard spinning around and around to music that only she heard. It fascinated him to watch her leaping and dancing, as an imaginary orchestra played for her alone. When he had asked her about it in school later, she had explained the music, the orchestra, her magnificent gown, and everything about her game. It was all very real to her. James found himself believing her and defending her if any of the other boys came around to make fun of her fantasy. He had fought more than one battle in the schoolyard on her behalf. He had never minded a bit.

The Trexlers had been a very wealthy family twenty-five years earlier. Amelia’s grandfather had made a series of rather poor investments, and the family’s resources had dwindled as a result. Her grandfather died soon after that. Some say he shot himself in disgrace. Amelia’s father, Matthew Trexler, had been in college when that happened. He immediately returned home, took the reins of the family business, and stopped the drain on the family money. He invested what was left in solid businesses and stocks. These eventually paid off during the boom for the Great War. Matthew was still head of the company his father started, a canning factory in Lyndonville, but it was not what it had been during the boom. His cousin, Willard Trexler, controlled the day-to-day operation of the company, which practically ran itself. The workers had a real pride in the company and produced well. It was all working as Matthew had planned.

Despite his obvious success in the business world, Matthew’s real love was his police work. He had worked his way up in the New York State Police, rising to the current rank of lieutenant. He spent much of his energy in the law enforcement community, leaving little for his family. He hoped to achieve promotion to captain before this year was out.

Amelia’s mother, Elizabeth Trexler, lived in a fantasy world. She was a true beauty, elegantly tall, very blonde like her daughters. She was admired by local residents as a beauty and for her immaculate wardrobe that included many originals from New York City. But her husband had little respect for her anymore, other than as a social leader in the local area. She made no time for him. Elizabeth involved herself with charity work, organizing dances and socials that kept her name in the newspaper and on everyone’s lips. She felt she had done her wifely duty by having Amelia and Sarah (her younger sister) and rearing them to adulthood. Now, she retired each evening to her own bedroom while her husband slept alone in his own room.

James wasn’t often welcome in their home. The Wolfe family wasn’t exactly on a par economically or socially with the Trexlers, a fact that hadn’t escaped any of their attention. Ray made derisive remarks about Matthew Trexler being a snob and a phony, adding that his advancement in the State Police was purely political. The truth was that Matthew Trexler had been decorated several times for bravery during gun battles and even for an attempted bank robbery he had stumbled upon one day in nearby Brockport. The other truth was the secret that the banning of liquor in America was creating a treasure trove for the Wolfe family. Ray knew he had to keep the newfound wealth a secret, or face a long prison term.

As James and Amelia walked into the dance hall, many heads turned to look at them. The guys were staring at Amelia, their intentions anything but honorable. The girls were looking at handsome James, wishing they could take Amelia’s place. At six feet even, he was a handsome young man with sandy hair and blue eyes. Two of her friends came over. Hello, Amelia! Decided to honor us with your company this evening? asked a very pregnant Millie Stisser. The other girl with her, Evelyn Martin, was flirting mercilessly with James, who was doing his best to ignore her totally.

The two girls chatted for a moment before Amelia turned to James. Let’s go for a walk. It’s too stuffy in here for my taste. He didn’t have to be asked twice. He took Amelia’s hand, and they walked out of the building. He headed over to the lake bank’s edge with her. Shadigee had a rather high embankment. They stood near the edge, watching the light waves breaking on the red shelf-like sandstone rocks below. Oh, James, what has happened to those two? We used to be friends in high school. Now I can’t stand to be near them. I wonder where Millie’s husband is. I didn’t see him in there. She’s pretty pregnant to be running around unescorted on a Saturday night.

I heard he was working at Bignall’s Foundry in Medina. I believe he’s an office clerk. That certainly isn’t a job that would keep him in the office on a Saturday night. Laughing, he added, Maybe he can’t stand to be with her either!

Ha ha! I’ll bet you’re right about that one. They fell silent, listening to the waves hitting the shore below them. One thing is for sure, this is a really beautiful night.

James’ thoughts flashed back to the run they would be making to Port Hope in the middle of the night. He pushed that thought away. It sure is. Turning to face her, he asked, Would you like to go somewhere else or stay here?

I’ve got a better idea. Let’s head back over to the hotel and see if anybody is there tonight. That other combo sounded pretty good. Let’s see if this one is better, James said, smiling that smile that she found so very hard to resist. She returned his smile as they headed into the dance hall. It turned out to be a little sedate for their tastes, so they returned to the skating rink.

The annoying Millie and her friend Evelyn had left. James and Amelia danced several dances before taking a break to get a cold Pepsi Cola at the tiny snack bar. They walked outside to cool down. Wow! It’s only May and you’d think it was the middle of summer inside there! I didn’t know dancing couples could heat a place up so much! Amelia said, shaking her head. This Pepsi is just right.

What time is it getting to be? James asked softly. You know I can’t be late tonight.

Amelia rolled her eyes and glanced at her watch, Looks like it’s a little after ten. What time do you have to be at the Point?

I need to be at the house by eleven. I guess we’d better call it a night.

Stamping her foot, Amelia snapped, I hate this business of yours. What if I decided to just stay here?

Well, I guess you’d have a really long walk home! James said to tease her. Unless you decide to find another ride home.

It would serve you right if I did! she said peevishly. After a few moments, she brightened and sighed, Alright, take me home, Mr. Bootlegger.

We’re not bootleggers! We’re lake men and we just carry the hooch back to those bootleggers. They’re the ones that have to run the roads at night and run the roadblocks. That’s Richard’s end of the deal. Not mine and Dad’s. Besides, I’ve asked you before not to talk about this stuff. You’ll get us all in hot water.

Alright, alright, just take me home. And that’s exactly what he did.

After a lingering kiss goodnight, James hurried home to get changed and ready to head across to Canada with his father. Ray met him in the kitchen. James, we’re takin’ a different boat tonight, and there’ll be another man goin’ along. He’s okay. Just got out of the Navy. Knows quite a bit about the lake and the oceans, too, I’d wager. He spent time aboard a cruiser during the Great War and saw some action, I reckon.

Sounds like he’ll be useful.

Yeah, I bet he’ll be. Hurry and get changed, we gotta get over there soon.

They walked to the berthing spot for a much larger boat than they had used before. This one was about fifty-four feet long and twelve feet wide. It was a former pleasure craft built in Lynn, Massachusetts in 1917, according to her papers. She had been used by the Navy during the Great War, and her small engine had been replaced by a strong Dusenberg four hundred horsepower engine. Even at this size, the boat would be able to outrun most of the boats on the lake. She had a cruising range of eight hundred miles so refueling wasn’t a consideration. It had a short foredeck, with cabin space below. The wheelhouse was directly behind that foredeck. Behind that was open, flat decking where a large, circular tub had been mounted and covered with a canvas on its roof. Beneath that tub was a large enclosed area. James figured that was where they would carry the cases of liquor this time.

A hush that fell over the three men as they stood there taking in the size and power of this boat. Ray finally broke the silence. Are ya sure ya can operate this, Everett? She’s pretty good sized. I’ve only run boats this size a few times. Should be okay once we get’er out of the creek and into the lake.

Everett continued to look the boat over for a few moments. Call me Ev. Sure, I can handle her. Let’s get aboard and get out of here.

Everett proved to be as good as he had said. He had the engine started and the power on quickly as Ray watched him and James freed up the lines holding the boat to the pier. How much water does this thing draw? Ray wanted to know.

Only about two-and-a-half feet when she’s not loaded down. With the cargo aboard, I’m not sure. We’ll just have to be careful when we bring it to shore. Let’s get moving.

They cast off and headed along the course charted by their bosses in Rochester. They wanted the boat to leave Point Breeze and go out about three miles before turning to the west for about twenty minutes. They then would take a roundabout course to Port Hope to pick up the load.

Once they were underway, Ray took the wheel. Everett and James walked back to the canvas-covered tub on the upper rear deck. Kid, this is the other reason they brought me along. Wait till you see what we’ve got here. Together, they pulled the canvas back. James couldn’t believe his eyes. It was a Browning .50 caliber machine gun on a swivel mount. See here? It’s got both armor piercing and tracer ammo. That will go through anything that we might meet out there. I shot Expert with a gun like this in the Navy. If we get into trouble, I’ll need you back here with me to load this. When I’m busy, you’ll watch for any other boats around so we can keep them off our backs. That rifle of yours will come in handy, too, I’ll bet. Are you any good with it?

Yeah, I can hit what I aim at. Show me how to load this monster.

As they headed out into the lake, James got a quick lesson on loading the heavy machine gun and also in clearing jams if they should occur. He asked if he could fire it. Ev just smiled. This thing is so damned loud that they’ll hear it all over the lake. Better just wait until we need it before we actually fire it. James saw the logic in that. He asked if there was anything else he needed to do. Ev shook his head. As Ev continued to fuss with the gun, James worked his way to the wheelhouse to talk to his father.

Dad, this is crazy. There is a heavy machine gun back there all loaded for bear. Do you really think we’ll need it?

Well, if we do, I’m glad it’s there. That kid’ll take care of it. We’re gonna be carrying the heaviest load we’ve ever done. Tonight’s haul should be over five hundred cases. That’s a value of over $60,000! Think of it. That’s more money than I ever thought I’d see. I got it stashed right here, he said, tapping the money belt around his middle. We’re in the big time now, Son.

This was all happening too fast for James. He hadn’t minded the speedy trips across in the runabout and the thirty or forty cases they brought back in it. This was something altogether different. If they ever got caught, they’d do prison time for this size load. That would be the end of his life with Amelia. ‘What is really worth that?’ he wondered. He shook himself out of the defeatist attitude. ‘What are you thinking? How is this really different from all the other trips?’ He chuckled to himself, thinking, ‘That’s the reason for the big gun! We should be fine with that thing. Let’s just get this over with.’

After an hour or so, Ev spelled Ray at the helm. Ray showed him where they were and where the next turns were. Ev called out, Aye, sir! and shot Ray a quick, confident smile.

A little over two hours later, they were entering the river’s mouth at Port Hope. This time, the truck was already on the large concrete pier waiting for them. Actually, there were two trucks. One flashed its lights and the other remained dark. The three men docked the boat facing the lake so they could make a quick getaway.

When the lines had been tied to the dock, Ev casually walked up to the gun tub on top of the rear deck. He wanted to be close to the gun in case something went wrong with the transaction. Ray showed the money, and the Canadian men began moving cases of liquor to the edge of the pier. Two of their men got onto the deck of the boat as their partners were handing down the cases. James acted as the supercargo, directing them as to where they should be stacked. The idea was to keep the load balanced in case they needed to make a quick getaway across the lake. They filled the cabin beneath the gun tub.

They began carrying more cases forward to the cabin below the foredeck in front of the wheelhouse. That held a lot of the liquor. The remainder of the five hundred cases was loaded at the rear of the stern. They covered them with canvas and tied them down carefully. Ray paid for the cases. When both parties were satisfied, they slipped their lines and pulled out of the river into the lake. James was at the wheel. He got a few hundred yards into the lake and turned sharply to the west as he was accelerating.

Ray and Everett were talking. Ev, this is where things are the most dangerous. There are hijackers out there. Better get up on that gun. I’ll blow a whistle if I see anything. I’m going back to take over from James at the wheel. Ray never made it to the wheelhouse before he nearly lost his footing. James heeled the boat over hard to the right. Immediately, a stream of machine gun bullets flashed from Everett’s gun tub on the upper deck. Ray reached for handholds to help him get to the wheelhouse. Several bullets hit the boat before he made it inside.

Dad! Two boats out there. I’m trying to lose them.

James, I’ll take the wheel. Get your rifle and get up there with Ev. If you can, pick off their searchlights or shoot at any flashes from their guns. We can’t lose this load!

Okay, Dad, I’m hurryin’!

Ray spotted one of the boats and headed straight for it before veering off to the left of it so Ev could get a clear shot at it. A long blast with tracer and armor piercing bullets flashed along the length of the boat. A second later, the hijacker’s runabout exploded in a ball of flame. The other boat gave up the attack and headed to the east, away from Ray’s boat. Ev slumped over the machine gun. James went to him quickly and laid him down on the deck. He ran to get the first aid kit.

Sliding into the wheelhouse, James hollered, Dad, Ev’s been hit. Where’s the emergency kit? Without a word, Ray grabbed it and ran along the deck to the gun tub. James took the wheel and continued at high speed for nearly half an hour before throttling back the engine to a cruising speed. He made sure he was on course and tied off the wheel so the boat wouldn’t wander. Hurrying up to the gun tub, he got there just in time to see Ray putting his coat over Ev’s face. Grimly, Ray looked up at James’ pleading eyes, and shook his head. Ev was gone. Gone. Just like that. In the wink of an eye. His back to the wall of the gun tub, James slid down to sit on the deck. He didn’t know what to feel as he stared at Ev’s lifeless body and the pool of blood that had come from the hole in his throat. It was more than he could take in.

Ray and James carried Ev’s body below decks