So, my great grandfather in law, the one who married my great grandmother in california and built the home in brentwood from blackmarket wood during the depression, lived in Connecticut before his great rush west. F H Menard was his name and he lived on an estate called Great Marsh. He would often travel with driver to the city from CT, and one day, with talk of prohibition in the air, he found himself following an alcohol deliver truck on the highway. He had his driver flag down the truck driver and once aside the road, offered him triple whatever he was being paid to turn the truck around and drive it back to his home in CT and unload all its contents once there. The filled truck he hoped to last him through the days of illegal drink, and last him it did, as at my grandfathers house there were bottles upon bottles of wine, vermouth, applejack etc! My mother told me the story of getting almost high in her 20s when she opened and tested one of his bottles of alcohol.
*thanks again Andrea. I look forward to the next tale.