George Buster Singleton |
The cool nights that accompany the lazy days of Indian Summer brings back many memories.
This time of the year was always full of good times and adventurous living where I grew up.
This was the time when thoughts of wearing shoes again confronted me and my friend who lived across the ridge. This was also the time when most of the crops had been gathered and thoughts of hunting began to gain momentum among older men.
Favorite pastime
Raccoon hunting was a favorite pastime in that area, and during the cool nights the hunter’s horn could be heard on the chilly winds almost anytime from sundown to sunrise.
Competition was ever present among the hunters and their coon dogs. Some of the tales overheard by a small, wide-eyed boy were something to behold.
One man in the vicinity did everything possible to own the No. 1 coon dog in the area. This included ordering a full-fledged hound from a mail-order house in Tennessee.
This dog, which was supposed to be the best ever, was due to arrive by train on a certain day. Only the older coon hunters were allowed to meet the train, as though some V.I.P. was arriving.
Two days of rest
The day arrived and the chosen few met the train to pick up this greatest of coon dogs.
The owner decided it was best to let the dog rest and recover from the trip from Tennessee for two days.
Finally, the appointed night came for the coon dog to perform for the local folks. The woods were filled with lanterns as everyone wanted to see this dog of dogs show up the local stock.
Within minutes, the Tennessee hound had struck a trail. And as the barking grew louder, everyone was sure that the coon would be treed almost in the middle of the crowd of hunters.
A large rabbit!
At the peak of the excitement, out of the brush came a large swamp rabbit with the Tennessee hound hot on its trail. For a dyed-in-the-wool coon hunter, this is about the worst thing that can happen to his dog.
After much profanity and a mad chase by the owner through the tall grass with a long club, the coon hunt came to an unhappy end.
The following morning, the train heading toward Tennessee had a passenger: one not-so-good coon dog with a one-way ticket. The number in the party to see him off were considerably fewer than had greeted him, they numbered fewer than two.
(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, was bitten at least twice by venomous snakes, 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.)
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