(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 “Foxhunting – southern style” was
originally published in the Nov. 23, 1972 edition of The Monroe Journal in
Monroeville, Ala.)
The quiet, peaceful community of Burnt Corn came alive Wednesday,
Nov. 1st, when the Dixie Burnt Corn Fox Hunters Association gathered
for their 26th annual meeting and hunt. The three-day event consisted
of the opening show held on the main street of Burnt Corn, right in front of
the post office and general store. Three days of hunting followed the show
where the best fox hounds from six states competed.
The main street was blocked off and the through traffic
routed behind the vacant store across from the post office. The supper that
marked the beginning of the event was over and as darkness settled over the
rolling hills all eyes began to focus on the hounds and their owners as they
milled around under the lights that hung over main street.
Hounds of all sizes and shapes were being groomed and readied
for the event that was about to start. Folding chairs were brought in by a few
of the spectators, while others stood or sat on the ground, forming a rough
watermelon-shaped circle around the hounds and their owners. The bench show was
underway.
The judges were announced and a few short remarks were made
by the association president. A hound puppy was presented to the youngest
member of the fox hunters association – the two-and-a-half-month-old daughter
of the association’s secretary, Mrs. Gail Stewart.
Strange language began to fall upon the ear of this writer
as the night wore on. Words like top standing dog, top Saturday night dog, top
field dog and top bench dog. The names derby dog and top runner were also
heard. Some of the hound’s names that floated on the night wind were Georgia
Bell, Texas Red, Old Blue, Tennessee Nell, Florida Queenie, the great grandson
of Old Bottom and many others.
The inner area of the huge circle was a beehive of activity
as hounds were carried, dragged and led by their owners to the center of the
circle to be entered in their respective classes. “Bring out the six-month-old
males,” the judges would shout. The winner might have come from Florida,
Georgia, Tennessee or Texas. He might have traveled from Mississippi or Louisiana
to the small community in north Monroe County to enter his or her prize fox
hound in this year’s competition.
Here and there along the outer edges of the circle hounds
and puppies were being swapped and traded. “He ain’t got a collar on, but you
will know him anywhere. Kinda got a funny color. He’ll answer to the name of
Blue. That’s his name. He knows his name.” These shouts were overheard. And
across the way Baby Stewart lay asleep nestled in her soft warm blanket and
held by one of her many admirers – as the judging of hounds continued.
Thursday morning at daybreak was the first fox race of the
three-day event. Most of the 275 hounds present participated. Many were scratched
by the judges for one reason or another before the day was over. The remaining
hounds were released again at sunrise on Friday morning to chase the sly old
fox across the country side and many more became the victims of the sharp eyes
of the judges.
As the gray light of dawn slowly crept across the open field
three miles east of Burnt Corn, the remaining hounds were released for the last
time to take part in the chase that would decide, one and for all, the winners
of the 1972 field trials.
The prizes and awards were to be given out at the campsite
three miles north on the Pine Orchard road. With the awarding of the trophies,
another foxhunt and get-together became history. Goodbyes were said and old
friends of many years began to look toward next year and the gathering at Burnt
Corn.
Down the road campers were slowly pulling out at the camping
area – headed home. All looked back and perhaps remembered the good times –
their world of the foxhunters.
And Baby Stewart, nestled now in her mother’s arms, had
slept through most of it all without knowing that she had been one of the main
attractions.
[This column, which was called a “Photostory” in this
edition of The Journal, included seven photos from the foxhunting event taken
by Singleton.]
(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 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 aand as part of an effort to keep his
work and memory alive.)
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