About This Book
Being a kid in the 1930's was vastly different from today's experiences, no Zoom, no internet, no iPads, and certainly no television. What was a boy to do? If you were Paul Flanagan, every day was a new adventure, a new caper to be solved, and always accompanied by a vast array of friends, dogs and interlopers. 'In junior year, Doc Randall taught us physics, and my first foray into business began with his class, where I decided that making bootleg whiskey would be an easy and profitable venture. I had a secret stash of money left over from my newspaper route tips, drug store tips and the sale of my paper route that I hadn't put in the bank and never told my ever-vigilant-when-it-comes-to-money matters, Mother. She was an intelligent and highly inquisitive person: and since money in the pocket was-in her mind-a boy's quickest path to the occasion of sin, she was particularly nosey about any money me and my older brother Walter had. But my best friend Kenny and I were too smart: we secured a location, bought supplies in the next town over so as not to be recognized, and set up our fully functioning illegal moonshine distillery.'
