I have long been fascinated by the events that took place in the 1920s and 1930s.
I can close my eyes and listen to the Lake Tahoe sound of a Chris Craft flying across the open water.
I hear the deep-throated gurgle of a polished mahogany inboard warming up at a dock – the slight muffling as it pulls away – the pitched whine of its powerful motor as the skipper jams the throttle forward – the sight of the transom dropping then pushing the craft until the hull is barely contacting the water – the rapid blasting drumbeat of the boat hydroplaning across the deep blue water…
I imagine the smoke from a moonshiner’s still hidden behind a mountain cabin.
I feel the weight of lifting a Model A Ford hood – the sheet metal hinges squeaking softly before neatly folding and resting one half on the other – I see the light golden clarity of gasoline in the glass sediment filter – the distinctive smell of engine grease and gasoline – I cannot help but sense the adventures this car has been on.
In the cities, jazz erupted from radios. This new invention also broadcast baseball games and the latest news. Hems were going up and necklines were going down. Unchaperoned women danced, smoked cigarettes, and drank whiskey. What a great time to be young. What a great time to be a bootlegger. Fast cars, fast women, and plenty of easy money, or so it seemed.