“All Rise”, commanded Constable W.L. “Country” Williams. Chatter immediately turned to silence as the overall clad constable announced, “Justice Court for Newton County Mississippi is now in session, Honorable Tom Bates presiding.”

Upon making his grand entry, the judge took his usual seat at the checkerboard table in Lee Herrington’s Grocery in downtown Little Rock. Judge Bates ceremoniously removed the checkers from the improvised judge’s bench and placed them in a cigar box provided by Mr. Lee. Before commencing with court business, the judge declared there would be no smoking, spitting or cussing in the courtroom. He then asked the local preacher to open the honorable court with prayer. The judge also ordered that the only firearms allowed in the courtroom would be those of the law enforcement offices.

After receiving the usual guilty pleas for minor traffic offenses, public drunkenness and one dog theft, Judge Bates called up the case against a local lady affectionately known as Miss Chicken, charged with making moon-shine whiskey. “How do you plead, Miss Chicken?” The judge inquired.

“Not guilty your honor”, was her reply, at which time her attorney asked for a trial by jury. Six men….reluctant men, were chosen from the courtroom and near by feed mill and the trial immediately began.

Eager to present his airtight case against the alleged bootlegging lady, a feisty young county attorney sprang to his feet. Following his eloquent opening statement to the jury, the well dressed the prosecutor called his witnesses, the Newton County Sheriff and then a State Alcohol Control Agent. Both witnesses being well prepared testified flawlessly leaving nothing for the well-seasoned defense attorney to exploit. At the proper moment the prosecutor presented his evidence that would surely put Miss Chicken out of business for good, a half pint fruit jar of the alleged moonshine, better known as Mississippi Stump Water.

Resting his case the young confident county attorney yielded the floor to the defense attorney. As the prosecutor watched in blissful confidence the sly and experienced defense attorney removed the lid form the state’s airtight case. Each of the six jittery jurors, non of whom were very exited about the prospect of putting Miss Chicken out of business, were allowed to allowed to get a whiff of the foul smelling liquid. The sheriff and prosecutor both were certain this charade would backfire, and seal the fate of Miss Chicken, once and for all. After passing the jar to the judge for his nasal inspection, the judge handed the jar to the defendant, and asked her if this was her shine. To the amazement of the entire crowd, Miss Chicken turned the jar up and consumed it’s entire contents….dregs and all. After a loud burp the moon-shining lady looked at each juror and proclaimed “This ain’t my shine, I ain’t never made nothing that tasted this bad and everyone of y’all know it”.

Eyes rolled with anxious anticipation in suddenly silent courtroom, but nobody disputed Miss Chicken’s claim.

Again the young prosecutor sprang to his feet, this time in protest but the judge was quick to point out that in his earlier ruling on courtroom etiquette that he had made no mention against drinking in the courtroom. After restoring order, the judge made a brief inspection of the empty fruit jar, screwed the lid back on securely and declared, much the delight of the jurors, “ case dismissed for lack of evidence.”

Case closed airtight!

The young prosecutor, humiliated but not defeated, gathered his briefcase and papers and returned to his office in Decatur, Mississippi. That young man’s name was Rex Gordon, Sr. Rex later built one Mississippi’s most successful and respected law practices. He was also elected as Chancery Judge for Jackson County, Mississippi and was mentor to many young attorneys, one of which later was elected to the United States Senate. Rex’ kind heart was reflected in his life as well as his memoirs, which is where I got the information for this story. I consider it a great privilege that his widow to thinks enough of me to allow me to read his memoirs and write his story.