Bootleggers and Speakeasies

Shadows on the Road: Moonshine, Raids, and Lawlessness in the Cascade District

Introduction: The Seamy Side of the Springs

While the Cascade area was known to many as a place of healing waters and refined resorts, archival records from the early twentieth century reveal a much darker narrative. The dense woods, winding dirt paths, and heavy tree canopy of Southwest Atlanta provided the perfect cover for the manufacture and distribution of illegal liquor. Long before paved highways dominated the region, this corridor was traversed by Model T Fords loaded with contraband. From high-speed running battles between county police and rum-runners to the discovery of elaborate underground distilleries, the Cascade district served as a primary theater in Atlanta’s war on moonshine.¹

The rum-runners who engaged in high-speed shootouts along Cascade Road were racing toward the city center to supply protected speakeasies, known locally as “blind tigers.” The undisputed ruler of this downtown market was Nat McWhorter, whose Courtland Street operation relied heavily on the illicit liquor flowing in from these rural outskirts.

Chapter 1: The Tin Can Still and the Slaton Arrest (1916 to 1919)

The cat-and-mouse game between local farmers and county police began well before the 18th Amendment ushered in national Prohibition in 1920. Georgia had actually enacted its own strict statewide Prohibition law in 1907, forcing the local liquor trade into the shadows over a decade before the rest of the country.

By May 1916, local authorities were actively hunting these hidden operations. Lieutenant Oliver and Officers Carter and Baker of the county force received a tip that a farmer named Carlyle was manufacturing whisky on his Cascade Road premises. Arriving shortly before nine o’clock at night, the officers searched the dark property for several hours before finding a covert setup in an abandoned house at the edge of the farm. They confiscated fifteen gallons of liquor stored in glass jugs and lard buckets. More notably, they captured what was dubbed “the smallest still on record.” The highly efficient, one-gallon contraption was manufactured from two tin cans, a 50-pound lard bucket, and three feet of iron pipe. The unique plant was taken to police headquarters and put on public exhibition, a testament to the ingenuity of backwoods distillers.²

As the liquor trade became more lucrative, the operations grew larger and bolder. In March 1918, county policemen discovered an illicit still operating in a farmhouse near the springs, arresting a man named P. C. Slaton and confiscating thirty gallons of liquor.³ The arrest caused a minor scandal when the local press mistakenly reported that the still was located inside John Zaring’s popular Cascade Inn at Cascade Springs. The newspaper was forced to issue a correction the next day to clarify that the hotel was a properly conducted, delightful place and had absolutely no connection to the raid.⁴

The conclusion to Slaton’s legal troubles came in April 1919, when he entered a plea of guilty before Judge William T. Newman. In a rather creative defense, Slaton maintained that he had not even succeeded in producing a drinkable grade of liquor before the revenue officers interrupted his operations. Unmoved by this technicality, Judge Newman imposed a fine of $100 and sentenced Slaton to thirty days imprisonment in the Fulton County Tower.⁵

Chapter 2: Illegal Checkpoints and the Underground Fortress (1919 to 1922)

As the 1920s approached and national Prohibition took effect, the volume of illegal liquor flowing through the Cascade corridor exploded, leading to desperate and sometimes corrupt measures by local law enforcement. In August 1919, the County Board was forced to investigate its own police officers for setting up illegal checkpoints. Two citizens, identified as House and Moon, brought formal charges against the county police for stopping their automobile on Cascade Road and searching it for liquor in an arbitrary and unwarranted manner without a warrant.⁶

To evade the increasingly aggressive and unpredictable police patrols, moonshiners turned to elaborate concealment. Perhaps the most astonishing discovery in the district’s history occurred in November 1922. In a subterranean chamber forty feet below the earth’s surface, W. G. Whitner and C. J. DeCamp were caught operating a fifty-gallon still near Cascade Road. The underground room was accessible only through a tunnel connected to the shaft of an old well.

Officers gained entrance by letting themselves down the dark well with a rope, eventually discovering an opening about a yard square. Inside, they found a hidden chamber—approximately twelve by fourteen feet—fitted with electric lights and a supply of running water. To avoid detection from the road, a subterranean pipe cleverly conveyed the smoke from the distillery to the main chimney of the Whitner home forty feet above. Police confiscated fourteen barrels of whisky beer and dismantled the subterranean fortress.⁷

Chapter 3: The Era of Rum-Cars and Ghost Operations (1923 to 1924)

The district was not just a manufacturing hub; it was a major transit route into Atlanta that often saw violent confrontations. In January 1923, county police engaged in a high-speed running battle with a rum-car that had been spotted on Cascade Road. The chase began when officers attempted to stop a suspicious vehicle, which then sped toward the city limits. During the frantic five-mile pursuit, the occupants of the rum-car exchanged gunfire with the police while desperately throwing 45 gallons of illicit liquor overboard to lighten their load. The battle ended near Bolton when one of the bootleggers leaped from the speeding automobile to escape into the woods. Police captured the vehicle and recovered the remaining 25 gallons of corn liquor.⁸

This was far from an isolated incident. The corridor remained a high-speed battleground throughout the year. On a Sunday afternoon in August 1923, County Policeman Browning and his partner intercepted a Ford touring car traveling down Cascade Road. Realizing he was caught, the bootlegger driving the vehicle slammed on the brakes, abandoned the Ford, and vanished into the dense woods on foot. The police confiscated the car along with 40 gallons of corn whisky left sitting in the back.⁹

Not all encounters ended in chases; sometimes the police simply found the ghosts of an operation. Early on a Saturday morning in April 1924, county policemen were patrolling a heavily wooded section about seven miles outside of Atlanta, just off Cascade Road. They stumbled upon a 50-gallon whisky still completely equipped and ready to begin operations. The officers had caught the setup right before the bootleggers returned to start a fresh batch. Because the site was empty, no arrests were made, but the county police dismantled and confiscated the equipment.¹⁰

Chapter 4: The Edwards Operation and Georgia’s First Roadhouse (1929 to 1931)

By the late 1920s, the scale of moonshine production in the district had reached industrial levels. On a Tuesday afternoon in April 1929, a squad of county police descended on the Cascade Road property of J. H. Edwards. Before the officers could spring their trap, Edwards made a run for it, fleeing the property and leaving his wife to face the raiding squad alone.

When police searched the property’s barn, they discovered a major operation. In addition to the distilling apparatus, officers seized a staggering 500 gallons of illicit whisky. Mrs. Edwards was arrested on the spot, and by that Friday afternoon, the Fulton County grand jury had jointly indicted the couple for the manufacture and possession of whisky.¹¹ The sheer scale of the raid was impressive, though the local press accidentally exaggerated the operation tenfold; a stray keystroke by a rushed Linotype operator at The Atlanta Journal transformed what The Atlanta Constitution accurately reported as a standard 75-gallon still into a massive, physically impossible “751-gallon” behemoth in the evening edition.¹²

The illicit activity on the property persisted, culminating in August 1930 with another massive raid on the Cascade Road house. Officers discovered 30 gallons of finished corn whiskey and an astounding 800 gallons of beer, leading to three arrests.¹³ (Note: By 1930, records list the operator as W. H. Edwards, suggesting either an alias to evade authorities or another newspaper misprint).

The flagrant lawlessness eventually forced federal intervention. In October 1930, Federal Judge E. Marvin Underwood ordered the immediate padlocking of the Cascade roadhouse operated by Edwards. The establishment, located about two miles from the city limits, was declared a public nuisance for repeated violations of the Volstead Act and the National Prohibition Act, and was ordered closed for one year.¹⁴

The padlocking was a significant victory for the moral reformers of the city, effectively shutting down one of the district’s most notorious speakeasies. The legal aftermath extended into the following year. In May 1931, the establishment—which the press notably referred to as “Georgia’s first automobile roadhouse”—finally posted bond to reopen. Mrs. W. H. Edwards, the legal owner of the property, was forced to go to Federal Court and post a $1,000 bond. To regain access to her property, she had to legally swear that no intoxicating liquor would ever be manufactured or sold on the premises again.¹⁵

Chapter 5: The Final Raids and a District Transformed (1932)

Despite the federal crackdowns and padlocks, the liquor trade stubbornly persisted into the final years of Prohibition. In August 1932, county police conducted a major raid on a property on Utoy Springs Road, located just off Cascade Road. During the Utoy Springs raid, officers confiscated a working still, 150 gallons of beer, and a quantity of whiskey. Two men were held, and a woman was put under bond.¹⁶

The era of moonshine and lawlessness in the Cascade district eventually faded as Prohibition was repealed in 1933 and the area became more integrated into the residential fabric of an expanding Atlanta. However, the archival records of these raids, high-speed chases, and underground stills serve as a potent reminder of a time when the healing waters of the springs shared the landscape with the white lightning of the backwoods. The transition from a district of hidden tunnels and rum-cars to a preserved nature sanctuary and residential haven represents one of the most dramatic shifts in the history of Southwest Atlanta.

Bibliography

The Atlanta Constitution. “Cascade Roadhouse Ruling Continued.” October 8, 1930.
The Atlanta Constitution. “Illicit Still Discovered.” March 21, 1918.
The Atlanta Constitution. “J. H. Edwards and his wife…” April 20, 1929.
The Atlanta Constitution. “Liquor Is Found Buried in Creek On Fulton Farm: Smallest Still on Record Found by County Police.” May 28, 1916.
The Atlanta Constitution. “Underground Still Raided by Police; Two Arrests Made.” November 2, 1922.
The Atlanta Constitution. “WHISKY NOT FOUND IN EATING HOUSE.” March 22, 1918.
The Atlanta Journal. “2 Men Held, Woman Put Under Bond in Utoy Springs Raid.” August 29, 1932.
The Atlanta Journal. “50-Gallon Still Taken By County Policemen.” April 5, 1924.
The Atlanta Journal. “Cascade Road House Posts Bond to Open After Padlock Case.” May 29, 1931.
The Atlanta Journal. “Cascade Road Still Indictment Accuses Edwards and Wife.” April 20, 1929.
The Atlanta Journal. “Cascade Springs Man Confesses to Still.” April 4, 1919.
The Atlanta Journal. “Corn Whisky and Auto Captured; Driver Escapes.” August 13, 1923.
The Atlanta Journal. “County Board To Investigate Search Charge.” August 7, 1919.
The Atlanta Journal. “Liquor Found; 3 Held at Cascade Road Raid.” August 2, 1930.
The Atlanta Journal. “Rum Car Captured in Running Battle with County Police.” January 27, 1923.

“Liquor Is Found Buried in Creek On Fulton Farm: Smallest Still on Record Found by County Police,” The Atlanta Constitution, May 28, 1916.
“Liquor Is Found Buried in Creek On Fulton Farm: Smallest Still on Record Found by County Police,” The Atlanta Constitution, May 28, 1916.
“Illicit Still Discovered,” The Atlanta Constitution, March 21, 1918.
“WHISKY NOT FOUND IN EATING HOUSE,” The Atlanta Constitution, March 22, 1918.
“Cascade Springs Man Confesses to Still,” The Atlanta Journal, April 4, 1919.
“County Board To Investigate Search Charge,” The Atlanta Journal, August 7, 1919.
“Underground Still Raided by Police; Two Arrests Made,” The Atlanta Constitution, November 2, 1922.
“Rum Car Captured in Running Battle with County Police,” The Atlanta Journal, January 27, 1923.
“Corn Whisky and Auto Captured; Driver Escapes,” The Atlanta Journal, August 13, 1923.
“50-Gallon Still Taken By County Policemen,” The Atlanta Journal, April 5, 1924.
“J. H. Edwards and his wife…,” The Atlanta Constitution, April 20, 1929.
“Cascade Road Still Indictment Accuses Edwards and Wife,” The Atlanta Journal, April 20, 1929.
“Liquor Found; 3 Held at Cascade Road Raid,” The Atlanta Journal, August 2, 1930.
“Cascade Roadhouse Ruling Continued,” The Atlanta Constitution, October 8, 1930.
“Cascade Road House Posts Bond to Open After Padlock Case,” The Atlanta Journal, May 29, 1931.
“2 Men Held, Woman Put Under Bond in Utoy Springs Raid,” The Atlanta Journal, August 29, 1932.

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