I've looked all over those woods for that jug for the last 50 odd years and never found it either.
I saw him - it - whatever it is when I was a sohomore at Angleton HS back in 1966. One of my cousins and I were coming back from deer hunting in our pasture at Middle Bayou between Angleton and WC. I thought it was my Dad coming out of ur other pasture which was behind the old roadside park on HWY 35. The light then went to the tops of the trees, crossed the road and disspeared on the other side. We about s__t. When I called my Aunt Bigo (The ostensibly scary Catherine Munson Foster) to tell her she was loath to believe. Just jealous, my mother said. My Dad, his brothers and the man I was named after swear they saw it too years earlier. Since Big Sister was never graced with the pleasure, she didn't want to admit that someone in my generation of the family was so blessed.
We now live in Bailey's Prairie about 450 - 500 yards through the woods from where he was planted - standing up. facing west, but without his omnipresent jug, supposedly withheld by his wife, who figured he'd had enough whisky when he was alive - and the fickle sucker hasn't come to see us yet. Hell, I'd be glad to give him a drink.