In the early 70s, times were tough. I worked day labor, partied often, did crank when crank usta be a bikers drug. My costs were high and income low!!
Anywhoo, once in a while I would stumble on a job. Like this one: The Jewish Community Center needed a janitor. I applied and was hired. It was a new building with a workout center, gym and pool. A night job, I had to stay inside the building. I found out if I walked through the doors, a silent alarm alerted the local police who would respond quickly as the members of this center were some of the wealthiest people in Minnesota.
A few weeks later I had this job down. It could be done in 4 hours. I would bring my alarm clock and sleep the other 4 hours- the silent alarm was on a time lock, which meant from 11 to 7 no one was allowed in or out.
Paydays I would show up early. A young Rabbi would have my check and pass on anything I needed to know. As weeks went by and the weather began cooling, I started driving my powered gray primed 58 Ford 1/2 ton. It was very noticeable among the Caddy's and Lincolns. The young Rabbi noticed my pickup and asked if I could haul some non kosher wine away? Hummm I said, taking a set of keys off his desk. He opened a storeroom, whereupon stood cases and cases of wine stacked to the ceiling. Hummm I said. It's gonna take awhile if I take a load every morning.
In the morning I took my first load home. Stacking it on the porch, I told my roommates to help themselves. That 50 x 12 foot porch became a wino's dream. It became a problem! ”Hey Man you gotta start dropping this shit somewhere else. We can't handle anymore!” My roommates had enough! I might have mentionedI'm Ojibwa or Annishinabe, we are also called Chippewa....Driving over to my Aunties House, which was a huge old 3 story, her son - my cousin - and his family had the second floor.
Anywhoo everyone partied when they could, and were happy to get the wine! Livin' in “Indian Country” they knew everyone, especially the Minneapolis Police, who were known as “pigs” in those days. The party started. In a few weeks, the pigs had busted the parties when they spilled out into the street. My Auntie said no more!
Hey my cousin said, I know where you can get rid of that wine! Wino park! Come on! We drove to the park, where we saw a lot of people layin' around. Standing in the back of the truck holding up bottles, yelling a “BUCK A BOTTLE”, we drove slowly around the park. Within an hour, me and my 'cuz' had sold all the wine! Handing me$250.00, I counted him back $125.00. You sure? he asked.
Within the next few months, we had both made enough to keep us in dope, beer, groceries... the rent got paid and I bought another Harley to fix up! We were doing good - it couldn't last!
The end came one morning when the Minneapolis cops descended on us. The guy who owned the Liquor
store next to the park had called the cops!! We had been cutting into his domain! We were thrown to the ground, handcuffed and hauled off to Jail. Eventually after months of court hearings, with all our money eaten up by defense attorneys, we settled with a fine. We were broke and I was out of a job. I had sent one of my roommates to apply, and after getting my old job, he would become the most successful “bootlegger” in S. Mpls. He sold out of his garage...
“Two More Bottles Of Wine” Delbert McClinton, one of the best Texas bluesman I've ever heard!
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