When people talk about Benny, they sometimes refer to him as "Old Pinebark." During a noon time recess at his trial, I asked Benny how he got the nickname.

"Look at my face," Benny said. "I look like a train wreck. Not a pretty sight. You want to know how I got to look like this? Because of the revenuers (Alcohol, Tobacco & Firearms agents)."

Benny explained that back as far as the late fifties, agents raided his liquor stills, mostly in the middle of the night. "Naturally, I’d run," he said. "But you can’t run in the woods at night without slamming headlong into pine trees.

"What you see (pointing to his gnarled face) is a pinebark map of the Sumter National Forest." He laughed. This old man had no intention of changing his ways. Not ever.

Once again Benny was found guilty of operating unlawful stills. As the judge prepared to pass sentence, he fixed his eyes intently on "Old Pinebark."

"You’ve come before me five times now," said the judge, "Each time I’ve given you probation, sincerely hoping that you’d find a new way of life. But you have ignored my warnings."

"You keep coming back with the same lame-brained excuse that you’re an old man. That won’t work anymore in this court. Therefore, I sentence you to 25 years in prison."

Benny was stunned. The sentence was totally unexpected. He pleaded: "Judge! I’m an old man, I’ll be 80 my next birthday, There’s no way I can live long enough to serve out that big of a sentence."

The judge lowered his bifocals. Glaring at the ancient moonshiner across the top of his silver rimmed spectacles the judge quipped: "Well Benny, just do the best you can."