Hog killing day

When I was about 10 years old my grandfather took me and my dad to buy 2 piglets. He always raised at least 1 hog for himself but this year he was going to raise for my mom and also . I still remember carry those piglets back to his house in a burlap bag. We lived in Dayton then but we went back to Kentucky just about every weekend. I always loved getting back to the farm it was great when all the family was together. I always got to help with chickens and slop the hogs .I can hear grandpa tell me how much corn to give them as well as what was in the slop bucket.
In the fall late November it was time to have the hogs killed. Grandpa Dad and me went up to the hog pen to wait on the men who were hired to come and kill and dress them. We were going to cut them up and make the sausage ourselves. Well when they got there they spoke to my grandpa and then he went back to the house. then the men spoke to dad and started to go to work. I asked dad why grandpa went to the house, he told me that he did not like to see them killed that he got attached to them. I was shocked as grandpa had farmed all his life and was a hunter to I then thought i will be a big man if I stay and watch and help. The men grabbed a 22
rifle out of their truck and walked back to the hog pen. I heard a shot and then a squeal and then my dad yelling at those men for not killing the hog , another shot and more squealing as my dad took the gun from the man and said he would do it I was making tracks to the house to be with grandpa.
Later that afternoon we loaded up our hog and went back to Dayton. The next day mom dad , me started cutting up the hog I got to crank the sausage grinder. Mom would take some of it and mix in salt and pepper and sage fry to taste and then decide how much more seasoning it needed. we worked all day mom rendering the lard on the stove, making cracklins cutting and freezing chops, roast, and canning sausage. The funny thing was after working all day in it they could hardly eat any of it. And they were raised on what we call today a self sustaining farm they raised and preserved everything that ate .

Kenny Ray and a trophy bass

The search continues

Went to South Vienna this past Saturday to look at a pair of beagle hounds. Older dogs as I am looking for help for Ole Jack, Kenny Ray went with me. I did not buy the dogs as they had trouble running in the deep snow at one point Kenny Ray stepped into a drift that had covered a ditch
and went waist deep in the snow. The dogs did manage to tree a raccoon in a hollow spot in a tree and managed to get themselves chewed up a bit . I am going to try and look at them again
as soon as the snow melts some, although that might be June as of last night we have 20" of the white stuff. And possibly more on the way this weekend. I did find some more hunting pics though and have posted a few

Rabbit hunting with God

Was out running ole Jack last night,Kenny Ray's beagle hound in about 10 inches of snow that fell here Friday and Saturday, It was beautiful evening. Jack got up 3 rabbits and we had a couple of good race's. while i was waiting on Jack after he had lost the scent it happened for the second time this season. Complete silence so deafening it made my ears hurt. I mean no sound at all no birds no wind complete stillness. the first time was during deer season it came a big snow down at the farm Kenny ray and I were in the tree house and complete silence again. even Kenny Ray
was quiet . and after a few minutes he looked at me and said " my ears are hurting dad it's so quiet". I told him mine were too . This time I was by myself and I started to pray and thank God, for all of my blessings. When I am in the woods and hunting by myself I feel like I am one on one with God. The silence,the sunset . the snow covered trees , all of Gods beautiful world,and I am just a small part of it.

Jerry Clower coon hunting story

Coon hunting memories

Coon hunting was a big thing with my dad and Uncle Grover Hatton. They kept several dogs and hunted almost every evening as they worked 2nd shift they would leave right after work, hunt all night sleep go again the next night.The one thing that was good for a boy was they would breed the females and have pups this is heaven for a little boy. My dad was a very good houndsman all thru his life. one thing that I remember was going hunting one night and I seen something that still sticks in my mind. There was a line of tree's about 5 of them and the lightening bugs had filled them it looked like Christmas tree's with all the twinkle lights.And then there is the night I watched my dog tree his first coon Smokey Joe it look like he was going to climb the tree and he was barking every breath. I remember helping skin the coons and stretch them on the boards to be sold.But one coon hunting memory I have took place on a rainy night in a 73 Pontiac Catalina my dads. Uncle Ken , Uncle Grover, dad and a coon hunting friend of my dad Virgil and me.sitting in the car and listening to an 8 track tape of Jerry Clower telling the coon hunt story. Even though I was a boy I was treated like a man that night, I think of it often still today. I would like to go one more time and remember.

The boogie man coon hunts

When I was about 11 years old my dad love to coon hunt . he would take me along sometimes.

On this particular night he took me and my cousin Steve Hatton hunting with him. Steve was just a couple of year's younger than me but he like to go to , as his dad like to coon hunt as well. It was early in the season and it had not got cold yet. we had been out about 4 or five hours before the dogs hit a track and started to run and Steve had begun to get tired and wanted to go home .

Well my dad was not going to call the dogs back until they had treed the coon. Steve started to ask to go back to the truck. Dad kept telling we would leave as soon as the dogs would come back.Steve asked him several times to go , dad finally told him he could go back anytime that he knowed where the car was. Now the car was about a mile from where we were at., but he did know where it was as we had been there several times. So Steve finally got mad and started out for the car. He got about 50 or 60 yards from us and then dad spoke to him he said " Steve you had better watch out for the boggie man" and this stopped Steve in his tracks. He turned walked back and sat down next to dad and never said another word until dad had caught the dogs about an hour later. I still joke with Steve, today about it and its been 30 years since it happened.

America a melting pot of cultures

I have been asked why I call myself an Appalachian American . Well the reason why is I am not a political correct person. When this country was started by many different nationalities and christian beliefs, German, French, Italian , Swedish, etc. And the country became a melting pot of these different cultures and we all became Americans. Today politicians are trying to separate and divide this country not only in class warfare but a cultural warfare also , not for the good of the people but what will keep them in power by causing conflict among us and away from the true problem. As any war they want to divide and conquer. So this has become my way of protesting , anytime I fill out a form I write in Appalachian American.

3 generations of hunters