A little interesting (To Me at least) Tidbit.
In the early 1960s, I had a 12 gauge Parker Trojan. I had some work I wanted to be done on it but didn't have the tooling to do. A gentleman who was the father of a girl I graduated high school with had a reputation of being a good (Country) gunsmith. I gave him a call & asked if he could do the job & he said yes.

He lived on the opposite side of the county from me & I had never been to their house so I asked for directions. He told me No Need to drive all the way out here, just bring it by the Distillery where I work.

I then asked, what do I need to do when I get there. He said just drive back to the second building, not counting the small office building. There is parking on the right & just bring it to the back door, it's never locked. I said you mean just walk in with a shotgun in my hands, he said Sure Everyone does it.

So I did. I didn't even have it cased, just broke it open & draped it over my arm & walked in like I owned the thing. He was the first person I saw, so gave it to him & went on my way. No one else around even raised an eyebrow.

When he finished with it he gave me a call & I went down & picked it up the same way. Now-A-Days there's a guard on every entrance & you don't go past one of them without an Invite from High Authority.
Back in those years from all I have heard it was truly a Laid Back place. Nobody punched a time clock & Nobody was looking over your shoulder. Everybody just did their job & that was that.

I have known a lot of folks who worked there but never worked there myself.

I Didn't Say Everything I Said, Yogi Berra