By the 1890s, University of Minnesota agronomist Willet Hays developed a hybrid specifically for the state's harsh climate. The seed variety matured upwards of forty percent faster than previous crops and produced high yields for livestock feed and grain markets. He named it “Minnesota 13.” Local farmers adopted it, and the state's corn crop flourished: Minnesota grew 800,000 acres of corn in 1900, a figure that more than doubled to 2.2 million acres by 1911. Growth continued through World War I. Unfortunately, an abrupt change in market conditions after the war changed everything—though not in the way farmers expected.
When the wartime boom ended, rural America fell into an agricultural recession years before the Great Depression. Commodity prices bottomed out, and corn that sold for $1.30 per bushel in 1919 fetched just forty-three cents by 1920—a 67% drop that left farmers unable to cover seed costs. They became desperate. Farmers had an overabundance of crops, but no one was willing—or able—to pay for them. Land values dropped precipitously, and many held mortgages beyond the value of their farms. They were financially underwater. They needed to feed their families, so some took their surplus Minnesota 13 corn in another direction.
They turned it into moonshine. National Prohibition had made it illegal to manufacture, sell, or transport liquor, but Stearns County farmers faced an unfathomable choice: risk foreclosure and hunger, or break the law. Many chose the latter. They believed that while transporting bootleg alcohol was illegal, it was not immoral.
It just so happened that good water and good corn made good whiskey. Farmers had access to good water, and thanks to the U of M, had good corn—“Minnesota 13”—in abundance. Distillers created a high-quality, powerful but smooth moonshine that earned a regional reputation. The whiskey appropriated the corn's name, and “Minnesota 13” became sought-after bootleg white whiskey in speakeasies across the Upper Midwest.
There was no specific recipe. While the core product used Minnesota 13 corn to produce a white whiskey, variations emerged. Distillers from different Stearns County cities branded their moonshine as such: Avon “Minnesota 13,” Melrose “Minnesota 13,” Holdingford “Minnesota 13.” The county became a hub of the bootlegging trade, and Holdingford was known locally as the state's unofficial moonshine capital.
It was dangerous work. Federal Prohibition officers frequented the area looking for illegal stills. Those caught risked being incarcerated in places like Leavenworth Prison, often serving three months to three years. Worse yet, they left their families without financial means to support themselves. Local officials were less concerned. Yes—people making moonshine were breaking the law, but they were doing it to get by. Those that ran afoul of the law were not hardened criminals. They were people they went to church with, neighbors they waved at in town. They were trying to save their farms. Everybody did it—if a person didn’t manufacture or sell “Minnesota 13,” they drank it.
“Running moon” was lucrative. Farmers could get upwards of $3 a gallon for moonshine whiskey—significantly more than they had earned for their crops, even in the best conditions. In little time, moonshine stills were hidden on and around farms throughout Stearns County. It was a constant game of hide-and-seek between moonshiners and Federal agents. During Prohibition, agents discovered upwards of twenty illegal stills in the county each month.
The practice continued after the repeal of the 18th Amendment, though to a much smaller degree. In 1933—mere months before Prohibition ended—crop prices recovered, tripling between March and July, and farm income doubled. Farmers no longer needed to risk breaking the law to keep their farms, and many returned to selling their crops the traditional way. Not everyone, though. Some viewed the potential financial reward as greater than the risks. When Prohibition ended, it became about skirting tax laws. Enforcement agents continued to find stills in the county, though not nearly as many. One of the state's last official raids of an illegal moonshine distillery occurred in Stearns County in 1964.
While illicit whiskey faded into folklore, Minnesota 13 corn earned a new legacy. By the twenty-first century, it was recognized as a heritage variety—celebrated for helping establish Minnesota as a major corn-producing state, not for bootlegging.
Minnesota Then