Raccoon hunting's popularity growing, some say

By Ron Jackson

Published: April 26, 2008

TAHLEQUAH — Listen carefully during the night.

On any given evening in rural Oklahoma, where moonlight struggles through the trees, you might hear echoes of the rhythmic bark of coonhounds. There, the anxious race through twigs and branches doesn't end until the hounds halt at the foot of a tree. They might stop running, but the barking and howling becomes fevered. A flashlight beam frantically scans the branches until it shines in the eyes of a raccoon. Mission accomplished: It's been "treed.”

This is raccoon hunting — an Oklahoma passion.

"Once you go on a coon hunt, and hear dogs barking as they run through the woods, you'll be hooked,” said Dan Tedder, 60, of Wagoner. "It gets into your blood.”

Thousands will celebrate this Oklahoma tradition today in Tahlequah at the second annual Red Fern Festival — an event inspired by the 1961 classic American novel "Where The Red Fern Grows” by Wilson Rawls. In the book, Rawls romanticizes the childhood adventures of Billy Coleman, who develops a special love for his two coonhounds, Old Dan and Little Ann.

Two movies were released in 1974 and 2003 — both filmed on location in Tahlequah.

"We have so many people who come to Tahlequah throughout the year to see where Billy picked up his dogs at the old depot, or to see the old store where his grandfather worked,” said Kate Kelly, Tahlequah's Chamber of Commerce tourism director. "Then one day it dawned on me, ‘Why, we ought to have a Red Fern Festival.' So far, it's been a great success.”

Festivities continue at 8 a.m. today with a car show, and stretch into the night with a variety of activities, arts and crafts vendors, and live music. An old-fashioned raccoon hunt field at 11 a.m. in the Sequoyah City Park promises to be one of the day's highlights.

Veteran hunter Jimmy Lee of Muskogee will demonstrate how trained hounds track and tree a raccoon. Raccoon hunters will then compete to see whose dogs can perform these acts the quickest.

Lee grew up around raccoon hunting in Le Flore County where he lived with his grandparents. His fascination didn't begin with Rawls' classic novel, but out of necessity.

"Back then, we used the old carbide lights,” recalled Lee, 58. "We didn't just tree them. We'd eat them, and later grandpa would sell the hides. Grandpa always climbed the tree after the raccoon. I was always afraid the raccoon would run down the tree while I was climbing up.

"We did what we had to. We were poor.”

Hunters like Lee will gather on any given night in Oklahoma, draw for pairings with fellow hunters, then travel to designated locations for separate hunts with a judge. First-, second-, and third-place finishes are based on a point system aimed at determining the speed and accuracy of a coonhound's ability to tree a raccoon.

"We don't kill the raccoons,” emphasized Mike Kirk, 39, Locust Grove and Professional Kennel Club state president. "If we did, we'd kill off all the good raccoons in the country.”

The popular perception of drunken hunters trashing through the woods is one that real raccoon hunters try to destroy.

"If you tell someone you're going coon hunting, a lot of times people will say, ‘Yeah right,'” Lee said. "They think we're just a bunch of drunks out to kill raccoons. We're basically the opposite.”

It mesmerized her at age 4 after she saw the movie, "Where The Red Fern Grows.” Ever since then, she has dreamed of owning her own blue tick hound, just like the fictional Billy Coleman.

Larkin's dream came true last June when she picked up a coonhound pup from Buzz Anderson, a Duncan man whom she affectionately refers to as "a grandfather.” That day, she stared down at a crate filled with puppies, and chose Annabelle.

"Annabelle is always with me,” Larkin said. "She sleeps with me every night. I love her so much. She's my life.”

Later, Larkin stumbled across Jimmy Lee on the Internet. Lee quickly became a coveted mentor, and recently took Larkin on her first raccoon hunt with her father, Jim, in Stillwater.

"I think I've been spoiled,” Haleigh Larkin said. "We treed three coons that night, and it had all the adventure and excitement I had dreamed it would ...

"I even fell into the river!”

The addiction is a common thread among raccoon hunters.

Pete Adams, 73, of Locust Grove is legendary throughout Oklahoma for his love of raccoon hunting. He had triple bypass surgery 24 years ago, and was coon hunting six weeks later. Five years ago, Adams underwent another heart bypass surgery, only to again turn to hunting for his salvation.

"Coon hunting saved his life,” said Wauhillau Adams, Pete's wife of 53 years. "His heart surgeon told him no other man could have survived what he did, but he did because of the exercise he gets when he's out chasing his dogs in the woods.

"He just loves coon hunting.”

No one understands that passion any better than Lee, a bounty hunter who works exclusively for one insurance company. Lee's work often requires him to track down fugitives in Louisiana, Arkansas, Kansas, Missouri, and Texas.

Along the way he mixes in raccoon hunts.

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