George Singleton tells of the many misadventures and near-misses of hardcore Alabama turkey hunters

Bobcats love to eat turkey.

(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere in Time.” The column below, which was titled “Spring – the time of love and turkey hunting” was originally published in the March 28, 1991 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

According to poets and songwriters, spring is the time when we begin to think of love. As the flowers blossom and our surroundings take on the fresh spring smells, all thoughts turn toward the search for a companion. Older folks, like myself, must put on their good behavior during spring and show their love and appreciation to the one courted many springs ago.

I have read many, many poems and stories about love in the beautiful and blossoming time of spring. I have even tried to write a few verses of sweet nothings, with sugar drippings, back when I was young and on the courting circuit. I didn’t have much luck with those words that I tried to make rhyme and sound rosy, but I tried, I really did.

But, in all of my reading and listening, in all of my travels and searching, I have yet to find a poet who will write anything about turkey hunting.

I can name several people, right here in this area, whose first love is turkey hunting. During this time of the year, all caution is thrown to the wind, and these dedicated souls risk job loss, divorce and the complete separation from all their worldly goods just to go out to hunt a courting turkey gobbler who is not even bothering them.

Now I can see hunting a mean old fighting bull or an alligator that is eating up all the young chillum in the neighborhood. I can even see going forth to do battle with a ragin’ bull elephant that is destroying the farmers’ crops. But to go out in the morning, before daylight, and try to shoot a large turkey gobbler who is strutting around, trying to catch the eye of a lovely, young turkey hen… well, I just don’t understand it.

What if someone had tried to sound the mating call when you had been out courting? Just say, you answered the call only to find yourself looking into the end of a double-barrel 12-gauge shotgun? It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to get the real picture. It’s heartbreaking to think of a turkey seeking love and courtship, only to end up being baked in a red-hot stove to be served for the main course on Sunday.

It’s quite often that spring loves and courtships end up in separation or in one seeking greener pastures. But it is very, very rare to hear of a devout turkey hunter giving up hunting during the spring turkey season. There are a few exceptions, but they are as rare as pulling hens’ teeth.

My brother-in-law was one of these people. He always took his vacation during this time of year. If he couldn’t get off for spring turkey season, he would quit his job. Nothing ever stood in the way of spring turkey hunting.

I must say that he was good at this sport. On Sunday afternoons, when all would sit around on the front porch and discuss local matters and world problems, he would get on the far end of the porch and practice his turkey calling. If you didn’t know better, you might think he was a little strange, sitting over there on the edge of the porch practicing his mating calls.

One morning after one of his hunts, a strange thing happened. He took his trusted shotgun and placed it on the deer-horn gun rack in the hallway. He informed his bewildered wife that if his gun was ever taken down from the rack again, it would be done by someone else. He stated that he had been on his last turkey hunt. His wife was so startled that she had to sit down for a spell. She was dumbfounded.

During his last turkey hunt, he sat down beside a large pine tree and began giving the mating calls that were sure to bring a large turkey gobbler high-tailing it that way. As he listened for a sound of the approaching gobbler, he chanced to catch a movement out of the corner of his right eye.

There, crouched and ready to spring and do battle, was the largest bobcat he had ever seen. As the bobcat sprang in his direction, my brother-in-law screamed and tried to jump up. He forgot all about his trusty shotgun in all the commotion. He must have scared the bobcat out of his wits also, because when they got untangled, the cat high-tailed it for taller timbers. It was several days before my brother-in-law regained his normal color.

I won’t call any names, but I know another one of these dyed-in-the-wool turkey hunters, who lives right here in our county. He also hold a very important position in our county government. It seems that after much deliberation, he purchased a turkey caller for $8 from a well-known store in town. I was told that he made two trips into the store before he made the purchase.

The next morning, he ventured into the deep woods to try out his new turkey caller. He sat down and proceeded to give those sexy mating calls designed to lure a very large turkey gobbler within shotgun range.

It seems that he, too, had the daylights scared out of him by one large and mean bobcat. Again, I won’t call any names, but if this fellow quits spring turkey hunting, you will know the reason. Only time will tell.

(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He also helped organize the Monroe County Museum and Historical Society and was also a past president of that organization. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)