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I can’t vouch for the veracity of this tale, but I’ll tell it exactly as I heard it and let you come to your own conclusion.

It’s the story of a mountain woman everyone called Aunt Tiny. Her name was somewhat misleading because she was a very large woman. She lived back in the high hills of Polk County in an isolated cove and was well known for the beautiful flowers she grew and sold. Her gladioluses and snapdragons were legendary and could be found in the spring and summer on church communion tables throughout the area. But Aunt Tiny was also well known for something else. 

She made moonshine of rare quality, much sought after by mountaineers and city dwellers alike. Aunt Tiny had successfully evaded revenuers for years partly because it was so difficult to get to her but also because no honorable officer of the law wanted to be responsible for arresting a sweet, flower-growing maiden lady.

That’s where Officer Waymon Brown came in. He had heard quite enough about this whiskey-making woman. It was time to put an end to her illegal activities. So, he set out one golden autumn morning from Columbus with his horse and his rifle. After a grueling journey he finally made it at about midday to Aunt Tiny’s small dwelling. Aunt Tiny caught sight of Officer Brown coming up the road to her house, and she scurried inside. The revenue officer dismounted from his horse, strode up the path to the front door, and began banging on it. Aunt Tiny opened the door about three inches and, in a quiet, high-pitched tone, said, “Yeeess.”

“Miss Sophria McNinch?”

“Yeesss.”

“I’m Federal Officer Brown and I’m here to arrest you for illegal distilling of spirits.”

“Wellllll,” Aunt Tiny drawled, “I wondered how long it was gonna take for you to come git me.”

“If you’ll just come along with me peacefully, ma’am.”

“That’s the problem, Constable. I can’t rightly git out of the house.”

“What?”

“Come in and see for yourself.”

As the officer entered the cabin, he saw her considerable girth and puzzled over his dilemma. How would he remove her from the premises? Nevertheless, he had come this far. He entered the house and apprehended her. Then he pulled her to the door, but she couldn’t get out. You see, Aunt Tiny had perfected the art of making herself even bigger than she was, plus the fact that the door was less than standard size. Officer Brown tugged and pulled and pushed. He tried to get her out sideways, backwards and frontwards, all to no avail.

“You’re killin’ me,” Aunt Tiny screamed at the top of her voice. “I’m dyin’!”

Finally, after several minutes of trying to figure it out, the frustrated lawman gave up and snarled as he walked out the door, “We’ll be back, lady, and someway, somehow, we’ll get you to town, if we have to take your house with us!”

Aunt Tiny snickered as she closed the front door. Then, when Officer Brown was well out of sight, she strode out her over-sized back door.