Oh, the tales I could tell about coon hunting. One story I'll never forget.
Along about 1958 I was living in Shreveoport, La. A friend invited me to join him and a group of friends on a coon hunt. We were to meet a property owner, and hound man near Natchez, Ms. for the hunt. We drove over and went to the crossroads where we were to meet the man, he wasn't there. We decided we would have a little snort of redeye and wait, so we bailed out of the trucks, build a fire and stoot there along the road waiting. A while later the man arrived. He was decked out in his hunting clothes, his wife was along side him decked out in, likely, her best dress, he was driving a brand new Lincoln, and in the back seat were four coon hounds, the car had mud all over the back seats as well as the back of the lady's fancy dress. The man got out of the car, let the dogs out and said lets go. We let our dog loose and followed the pack as ther set out across the swamp. Someone asked about leaving the wife in the car, his remark was something like this. "I told her two weeks ago that y'all were comming over to go hunting, but she thought she would change my mind by accepting an invitation to a party, that is why she is drees like she is. When I told her I was going hunting she hid the keys to my truck and said I wasn't going anywhere unless I went with her. Well, the only way I could get here was to drive her car, so I loaded the dogs in and here I am." Someone said, oh, we will give you a ride home in the morning, he said "No problem, the first thing I did when I stopped the car was remove the keys and put them in my pocket."
His wife set there all night, it wasn't cold, but was a fairly chilly night. I tried to avoid the area until they left the next morning, but I could still hear her shouts and threats a half mile away. I later learned that she traded for a new car the next day. He didn't say much about it since it was less expensive than a divorce.
