A Very Close Thanksgiving

Paul and Michael eating first of course

Dad with my daughters, Erin and Sarah

Wanda and Denise getting the desserts ready

Erin with your friendly neighborhood blogger

the girls, Michael and Trent almost ready for some pecan pie!

How Was It You Ask? Don't

How was it? Not so good. There were some bright spots of course but overall not our best hunt even though the Thanksgiving meal and fellowship was good right up 'till it started raining. It started well as Austin got a doe and Paul got a hog! Then Spencer got a big doe for his first deer of the season.

Then things started to unravel.
Paul shot at a giant buck at 50 yards and MISSED. Yes, I know he sold his soul to the devil for antlers, so this was the most unusual thing I have ever witnessed. We are going to mount the tree limb he shot so all is not lost. I shot a hog, it got away. Michael shot a hog, it got away. Spencer shot a hog, it got away. Where the hell is Phillip?
The Thanksgiving meal was great and I will post pics tomorrow.
Then it started to rain and we were cooped up in the camphouse listening to it pour. The septic tank backed up. You don't want to know. It kept raining and raining. Trent managed a hog in the drizzle on Sunday morning.

Too bad about Paul, you know how humble he is about his shooting ability.

Thanksgiving At Deer Camp

Each year we celebrate Thanksgiving at camp. It is crowded and there is little privacy but we get 4 days of hunting in and get to be with our family. I am leaving this afternoon (probably too late to hunt) and will be there through the weekend. I think there is a big buck down there with my name on it. Hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Another Geat Hunt

While Trent was shooting the little deer in the post below, my friend Jeffrey Hollis was doing something important. He managed to blast this big hog over on the River while hunting on the opening weekend. This 200 pounder would make the Mailrider jealous.

One Really Fine Deer

This was the first weekend of gun season and Trent started the year off right when he took this really fine 13 point buck. The big deer weighed in at 210 pounds with an 18 inch spread. Looks like the bar is going to be at an all time high. Congratulations!!!!

Hell Hath Froze Over

For the first time in recorded history, the Bloody Baron (aka Paul Howell), yes that minion of evil, is not expected at camp for opening day. Why? Hell if I know. The excuse he gave was something about going to the ballgame. This is the same guy that moves to the camp in November and stays 'till March. He has never missed a day of deer season, much less opening day. When there is killin' to be done, he's your man. I sent him an email asking him what was up with that and he sent me this picture.

*WHEN YOU ARE IN DEEP SHIT, LOOK STRAIGHT AHEAD,
KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT & SAY NOTHING !!!!
(methinks he is in deep do-do)
HEY! That means his stand is open!!!!!!!!!!!!

Where to Hunt???????

I swear I have no idea. Should I go up the lake or just go to one of the fields? Paul and Trent have been scouting and looking for months but some people have to work. I have three days to figure it out. Maybe I will do something totally unexpected. Either way DEER SEASON STARTS SATURDAY!

The 600 Pound Doe

I was hunting the Arrowhead field this past weekend during our muzzle-load doe season. At 7:00 AM three does came out in front of me easing across the field and heading for the edge of the hollow below me. I shot and the doe reared, turned, took two leaps and was gone. I could not believe that it did not fall in its tracks. Then I prayed that it did not make the edge of the hill. I got down and eased over to the edge of the field and followed the blood trail. Twenty feet into the woods I saw where the deer had made the edge of the deep ravine in front of me and I could see the deer at the very bottom. OMG! It was straight down 200 feet. It was in the deepest, steepest canyon on the whole property! I worked my way down and checked the deer. It weighed about 100 lbs. I started taking off gear, grabbed the deer and started pulling. Almost an hour later I got to the top of the hill with the 600 pound monster doe just before I had a heart attack.
Trust me that if you shoot a deer here, the last thing you want is for it to fall into one of our deep canyons.

Early Doe Season Results

Our early muzzle-loader opener went very well this past weekend. Your friendly neighborhood blogger (moi') took one doe an a gray-back hog. My little cousin Katie was with me and we had an exciting hunt. Austin got a deer! (miracle) and a young man named Justin Rose got his first deer. Dean Lammey had his usual results (0) and Oh yeah, Old Blind Jones managed to miss another deer.

Saturday night after a successful hunt

Me and Jonesy with my Porkulus Phillipius

Justin bloodied for his first deer

Old Blind Jones

Mr. Jones is going to deer camp with me today. It has been awhile since he has killed a deer but he has high hopes. I am worried since he is blind as a bat. He says his glasses are broken (he won't get them fixed), says he can see through his scope (???), and says he is a great shot (haha) If I can get a deer within 10 feet of him he might have a chance. PS hope a hog doesn't get him when he is blindly traipsing through the woods and thinks it's a really big squirrel coming toward him.

Someone Knows What to Do

Burney got this nice doe last weekend, it's his 2nd deer already.

A Trap For The Masked Armadillo

Usually at the time of year a mysterious hunter appears while we are working and traips through the middle of us and goes hunting. Not this year.
A clever trap laid by Dad finally caught the Masked Armadillo before he could get to the woods on his 4-wheeler. Minutes later he was shoveling with the rest of us in a project of busy work that dad had decided on. When we finished he tried to get away again but hauling brush was the next priority and Dad threw him right in the middle of it. I guess justice does exist, even with the Masked Armadillo.

The Last Youth Hunt

I hope that it is not the last youth hunt but all my children are past the age of 15 except for Erin. This will be her last youth hunt. She is just about grown now. Here is a pic from her recent prom. Erin is on the left.

On the bright side, we are about to blast the hell out of some deer and hogs!

Off To The Range

This morning Greg, Mark and I are heading out to Greg's property to shoot our rifles. I need to get the dirt dobbers out of my barrel and see if I can hit the side of a barn before deer season starts, and those two guys need all the practice they can get. Will let you know the results later.

Ghost At Work

I don't even know why I go to work on Halloween. Every year those damn ghost get to swooping around my office until I can't get any work done. They hide my pens, disrupt the internet and my computer, phones won't work, and they try to scare the hell out of anyone that comes in my office.
I'll try to stay in this creepy old office as long as I can, but I assure you that I will be gone from here way before dark. It really gets scary then.

The Bell Of The Tchula Lady

It was the hottest part of August when the weird idea to go frog gigging over on the River struck us. I asked Paul Jones what he knew about the frogging over in that area and he told me that it should be good. He had not seen any vehicles with boats over at the landing at night in almost a month. He figured we could catch about as many as we wanted. Paul, Burney and I started planning right then but Paul Jones interrupted us with one of his cryptic final statements. “The River has been channeled but down about two miles there is a double bow where you follow the old River for about half a mile. When you get to it, you can see it is marked on the side by a mile marker, #27. If I was you, I would get in the middle and drift down past the last bow and don’t try to catch any frogs ‘till then.” We stared at him. He didn’t say anything else. Paul Jones has a habit of knowing way to much about the history of this place but when pressed he said “maybe nothing, but do what I say and there won’t be no trouble” That’s all we could get out of him.
A week later we were ready. We had boats, we had coolers, we had lights, we had beer, we had everything we needed. We even picked up a couple of stragglers in Mark Stewart, Mark Rose, Stewart Allen and Terry Cutrere. Two boats to cover the River with me driving one and Burney the other. We planned about a 10 mile drift and then to come back up to catch what we missed on the way down.
Catching frogs is not done with a gig. One man sits in the front usually wearing heavy gloves, 2nd man in the middle holds the light, and the 3rd man drives the boat. You shine their eyes and blind them, pull the boat in tight and grab them. Simple as pie.
The night was black as pitch as we headed downriver floating and talking until we started seeing a few frogs and then split up to cover each side of the river. We caught some, put ‘em in the cooler, missed a few but everyone had a shot at it and we drank beer and enjoyed the night. Before we had gone 1/2 mile the fog rolled in on us and it started getting quiet. Mark Rose in the other boat shined his light high on the bank and we could just make out marker #27 and we floated into the first bend.
You could tell it was the old river as tall timber overhang this part and we let the current pull us forward. The water was low but the river narrowed here. It was spooky but it seemed like frogs were everywhere. We split up and started getting them. We had caught 10 before a frantic bobbing of the lights caught our attention and we eased the motor until we crossed over and found Burney holding a snag waiting for us in his boat.
Both boats shined their light at a mass of old timbers jutting from the bank. The huge timbers were covered by big frogs and I started to tell Burney they could get in to them but he said “Listen” and we all quieted down. It was still in the swirling fog with just the slapping of the water on the boats but You could hear it low and slow, the chiming of a bell coming from the old wreck in front of us. As we listened it quickly got louder. The frogs in front of us escaped into the water as we realized that the sound was coming from the old pile-up. Shining the light we spotted an old marker at the top of the bank. It read The Tchula Lady.
As the noise grew louder a shrill shriek seemed to echo in it that hurt our ears, the blood curdling sound seemed to reach into your soul and it seemed like the fog seemed to swirl in amongst the timbers until it looked like people were moving there. We quickly backed into the middle of the River. I almost had to fight Cutrere to get control of the motor after Paul grabbed his leg to tell him to turn the light downstream and almost caused the whole group to panic and sink the boat. We all took off downriver until the noise faded behind us. Not much frogging was done after that and later when we came back up the river it was done at full throttle hugging the opposite side of the River.
Paul Jones had built a fire on the bank and was waiting for us when we got back to the landing. We tried to tell him about what happened but he already knew. He told us the tale then. “The Tchula Lady was a paddle-wheeler that ran mostly from The Misissippi, up to Yazoo City and then to Tchula carrying supplies and people. During the Civil war it carried soldiers and was ambushed in that bow below Parkers Landing by Union cavalry with cannons and sank with all hands. It caught in a snag at the bend of the River and everyone that made a swim to the bank was shot. No one survived. The ship burned right there and the old timbers in the bank are all that’s left of it. The story is that it is still trying to make the run up river and the ghost don't want to be disturbed. I have heard that the sound of the bell will burst your eardrums or make you lose your mind if you stay and listen too long.” That was the end of our frog hunting expeditions on that River.

Katies' Big Day

My cousin, Katie, is getting married this weekend. Yes, I know that no one in their right mind gets married during the fall or winter, but love can make you blind and I don't think her new husband is a hunter.
Katie is the daughter of my cousin, Kent (a reformed duck hunter) and he and his wife Marijean are planning on a hoedown that Oxford has never seen before. I have been warned that no one will be allowed to wear camo, hip boots, waders, or any hunting gear at all.
The women are all up in the air about this so I guess the deer will have to wait another week.
(and yes, any wedding at Halloween is scary.)

The Secret Spot

Why are all the members at the famous Christmas Place creeping around scouting for big deer sign? The reason is that they are all looking for the Secret Spot. This is a secret place nestled in an obscure place that no one knows about except them. This place is where the very biggest bucks make their home and where a huge trophy can be taken if they can just find it. Just hunting there is where all the action is as a parade of bucks wander by as you wait for that giant (Thunderhoof?) to make his appearance.
Don't worry, I'm looking too.

Laid By

All of our fields are officially laid by for the winter. (thank god)They are all planted and taken care of and those damn deer better appreciate them. Bucks are starting to move and are leaving their sign in the woods for us to get excited about. Lots of hooks were seen as we went over the property this weekend. The peanuts are gone but there are plenty left on the ground that should attract deer and hogs as it gets colder. Looks like a great year is just about to begin.

#OccupyFCH

It is time for the 99% of members to occupy the famous Christmas Place! We are tired of the rich members shooting all the big deer, getting the best stands, and drinking the best whiskey. It is time to unite against this sacrilege and take over the Christmas Place until we kill a giant deer too!
Bring your long johns, a sleeping bag, your hippie beads and bongs and head down to the Delta to make these evil plantation owners do the right thing and give us all their stuff. (I could use Paul's new truck and his gold credit card) Unite! Women show your breast! Free Booze! We will make hunting great again after we get rid of those selfish, uncaring, criminal rich hunters! Hang them All! Give peace a chance!

The Sneekin' Peekin' Weekend

This is it. This is the weekend when almost everything is done and it is time to find out where that big old buck is hiding. Everyone will be scouting for that rascal this weekend and of course not telling the others what they saw or found. Gun season will be here before you know it and you have to make sure you are in a really good spot to get your big buck.
cool weather moved i this weekend which should make those bad old deers think about scraping and rubbing their antlers, so sign should be plentiful.
Will see you around the hanging pole!
PS- will have an article up soon about disfunctional hunting camps :)

Tree Rat City

The 2011 Squirrel camp was a success. At least 100 squirrels were taken this weekend by our hunters and everyone had a great time.

The weather was perfect and a lot of time was spent by everyone around the campfire. Lots of stories were told and lots of drinking was done as we shared some old fashioned camaraderie of the hunting camp.

A whole box of squirrels! We had the best squirrel and dumplings ever thanks to Roy Stevens.

Android Deer

.

I am finally moving into the year 2000 with technology. I just got a new Android phone from CSpire. This thing is amazing. You can take pictures, text, send email, surf the net, and you can even talk on it. Amazing!
The best thing is now I can do Apps. This damn thing has apps out the kazoo. Hating on Paul- got an app, puting up with Dad and the rest of those deaf idiots- got an app, putting Scrooge in his place- got an app. GPS maps, hunting tips, wind direction, where to go hunt- got an app. It has lots and lots of deer hunting apps which should insure that I will kill a big old buck every year! The very best thing is that now there is no excuse for me not getting a picture of that damn Thunderhoof. I think they even have an app for that

Pauls Free Lessons in Futility

This past weekend we had several guest at camp. They were pleasant, fun to be around and greatly enjoyed the property. Paul brought them up to hog hunt and shoot does with their bows. (HA-HA) They did not understand Pauls' strategies for making sure a guest doesn't kill a deer.
Phillip Anderson was sent to hunt the Sneaky Stand. He made himself a little blind at the base and got ready to pop a deer. It didn't take long before he heard one walking toward the open field. He saw her head and slowly raised his bow. She stepped to the edge and he drew his bow back. Now according to Phillip, at that exact time, a mosquito as large as a humming bird landed right on top of his nose and decided to drill for oil.
The pain was tremendous, the doe stepped into the wide open, the giant mosquito found a deep vein and hit a gusher, Phillip screamed from pain and the arrow shot from his bow doing no damage to anything except making the deer walk off shaking its head at the fool hunter. The mosquito escaped, Phillip held his throbbing probiscus and the hunt was over.
I don't know how Paul manages to arrange something like this everytime but trust me, your chance of getting a deer here are between slim and none.

Paul, Phillip, Trey, Joey

Hog Time Begins

Trent started the weekend out right by blasting this nice size porker up on the North end of the property.

This was followed up in the afternoon with a wild west shootout by Mark Stewart and Paul Jones that put three more hogs on the table.

(Phillip and Anders would be so proud)

Free Range Pork

In an effort to help the environment and stay healthy at the same time, I am taking the Mailrider with me down to the famous Christmas Place this weekend. We are going after some of those free ranging wild hogs that seem to be taking over the place. Hmmm.... wild hog with peanut oil. Yum, Yum!
See I can be as green minded as anyone.

Indian Artifacts

Every now and then we find Indian artifacts that remind us of the history of the area and that the Indians were here way before the white man.
Paul found this perfectly formed bird point while they were disking the Arrowhead Field.

Getting Ready

We cut and split enough wood for the winter last weekend. Almost all the fields are planted and we cut all the grass around the camp. time should speed up as we head into hunting season.

"Catfish" Is 85 Today

UNBELIEVABLE!

I could tell you about all the great buck sign we found this weekend, or how the deer are already coming in droves to our freshly planted food plots, or even how the acres and acres of turned up peanuts are attracting deer and hogs from all over the county, but the most unbelievable thing we witnessed at the famous Christmas Place this weekend was my evil brother (no the one from the coast) actually washing dishes.

I didn't know Satan even knew how to wash dishes

Calling All Banditos!

Dad walked in the office this morning. He was wearing his hunting clothes and jacket. All of his pockets were bulging with bullets and shells. He had two bandoleros of bullets across his chest, two rifles on his back and was carrying his trusty 12 gauge. He said " I think I will go down to the camp today and see what's going on." I didn't say anything. He stared at me. I stared at him. Finally I said "I guess they are harvesting the peanuts?"

How To Drive a Rich Lawyer Crazy

When dealing with my evil brothers, I am usually at the bottom of the totem pole. I bide my time, because what comes around, goes around. I finally had my chance the other day when I casually mentioned to Paul (Beezlebub) that my buddy Mark (Mailrider) and I were trying to swap our hill land in Yalobusha county for a big piece of bottom land along the river. This got his attention and the trap was set.
One thing you need to know about rich lawyers is their weak spot. Their weak spot is DUCKS. There is something about duck hunting that gets under their skin and they will do anything for a great duck hunt.
His eyes lit up. "Are there any ducks on the property?" Satan asked.
I replied "Hell yeah, the damn things are all over it. It's filled with big sloughs and water holes right there on the main flyway to the lake." He almost had a coronary.
Of course, I have no idea if there is a duck within a hundred miles of there. I haven't even seen it.
"You know I might be interested in leasing the duck hunting on that land."
We haggled back and forth until we got a good number for the lease and then he started talking about duck hunting and shooting big deer.
I reminded him at the end that the lease was for ducks only. A new price would be needed if he wanted to shoot deer and of course I told him about all the giant rubs I had seen.
Wait 'till I go look at it and start feeding him bull about the 40 gazillion ducks I see.

Grown Girls

My little girls are all grown up, now they are big, expensive pains in the patootie, but I sure love them.

Scary Stories Soon

It is almost October and I am working on a few scary stories for Halloween.This year I have been swamped and it is hard to gather the information that I need for most of the stories. Most of the people involved are dead or to scared to talk.
I have a few ideas though.
The Bell of the Tchula Racer.
A Wild Hog Eats A Lawyer (sorry, you wanted scary, not funny)
The Cold Spot
The Indian Burial Ground
I'm working but will try to get something together soon.
PS time to start getting Xmas photos in if you want me to do another Xmas Card.

Beware The 4th Of October

Dad will be 85 on October 4th.
Still driving a tractor, still tough as a pine knot, still mean as a snake.

The Call Of The Peanut

I don't understand much about pea-pickin or peanut gathering but I understand deer and hogs. The time that these two things meet is fast approaching as the 500 acres of peanuts at the famous Christmas Place are almost ready to harvest. What makes this special is that when the peanuts are picked; the first thing they do is turn them up out of the ground and let them lay about a week to dry. This should attract every varmint within 200 miles to come for a snack on our property. There ought to be a hog killin of monumental proportions then. If the farmer waits much later this could also intersect with the archery season opener and squirrel camp. Bring about 50 extra tons of ammo!
Yes, it is about to get very interesting.

Sucessful Work Camp

Lazarus-back from the dead (and now an artist)
Rex- your friendly neighborhood blogger
Paul Howell- Supervisor in absentia
Terry Cutrair- financial bookie
Hershel- the slave driving old coot
Tommy Ladner- Engineer (tractor driver in Mississippi)
Camo- Deer Hating Hell Hound
It could be worse

Off To Camp

My truck is loaded to the gunwales with wheat. Those damn deer better appreciate it. Had to load it by myself, of course. No self-respecting Evil Lawyer would dare stoop to the low of having to do physical labor.
Now all I have to do is get my things, grab Camo and off we go.
I am sure someone at camp will be glad to help me unload it. Ha-Ha, yeah, right.

Dog Words

If you own a dog, or a dog owns you, there are a few things you need to know to survive. The first one is DO NOT TEACH YOUR DOG TO TALK. Worst mistake I ever made. The second is not for your dog to figure out the meaning of diferent words. In my house you can not say the words GO, TRUCK, RIDE, CAMP or PIZZA. Last night I had to hide in the kitchen to call and order a pizza and that stupid dog figured it out and went crazy. Howling and barking at me to take her with me to get it. Whispering your order to the pizza guy is rather creepy.
If you call I will let you talk to her.

Big Work Weekend Scheduled

How come I feel like the Maytag repairman?
This coming weekend is the big camp planting weekend and as usual half the people aren't coming. Mailrider is at Vanderbilt. His son is sitting by the pool "studying". Trent will not be there as he is "politicking". Burney will be coming in late Saturday. (that's a lot of help) Haven't heard from Michael or Spencer. (girls), but Paul is coming! Of course when Paul comes to camp to work, it's like two people leaving. Camo will have to drive the tractor. Will let you know if I survive the weekend.

Squirrel Camp Letters Are Out

Spencer just loves this.

Outside Coffeeville,MS

Quiet Friday

Dad has left for camp to get things going and the office is quiet. When the appraiser is having an extremely slow week; you can bet the economy is taking another hit. I am forcing myself to go to the ballgame this weekend. They better shape up fast.
Good news on the deer front! Several large bucks have been seen grazing (like cows) on our peanuts. Damn varmints!
I have started a new story about a golf playing vampire. I know, but work with me.
Next weekend is the big work camp and possibly Rules Committe meeting.
PS no new rules.

Deer Season Looms

Now that football season is over.....
we can start concentrating on what is important. Deer Season!
This coming weekend is the time to start breaking fields and getting ready to plant. The ground should be soft after all the rain we have had and it should go quickly. If you have any special blend food plot mixtures you want me to test, please send them now. No, marijuana is not a winter grass.
Peanuts are coming along and should be ready for harvesting in a few weeks. First they turn them up and let them sit and dry for a week. There should be a hog killing of epic proportions when that happens. Will let you know what's shaking at the famous Christmas Place.

Disappointment

The Daily Mississippian has refused to run my story of the True Origin of our Famous Mascot.
If you know of another local paper that might run it, please forward it to them.

Bad Week Blues

It has been a really bad week here at Howell Realty and Appraisal. I can't tell you all of it but if I worked for the government, I would climb a water tower with my Uzi. To top it off, my brother Satan is coming to town. (No, the other one from the coast) Things should be getting better though. College football actually starts tonight when the Bulldogs just beat the hell out of Memphis. Friday night is the big Water Valley -vs- Calhoun City bloodletting and Saturday we get to enjoy the fun of the Grove with Mailrider and send those stupid BYU kitty cats back home sulking.

Mad Tuesday

Football starts Saturday with Ole Miss having a home game that afternoon and I am already mad at those damn Mormons at BYU. They are talking that talk and riding those bicycles and think they are going to waltz in here and beat us. I have news for them. We are going to let them all in, lock the damn doors and proceed to give them a butt-whipping the likes they have never seen and send their sorry butts back to soak in the Great Salt Lake. Boy, they are pissing me off.

Monday Morning Coming Down

My old friend at Charming, Just Charming uses that phrase and I understand it's implications. Here is the weekend roundup for Water Valley and the famous Christmas Place.
Water Valley won the ballgame 63-0 and I really felt bad for Coffeeville who had one of those nights where nothing went right. Our boys looked sharp and dominated the game. Should be a barnburner when Calhoun City rolls into town, PS. You would have thought we were playing those chumps at Germantown.
Dad got all the bulldozing done without loss of life. Trent got everything bushhogged. Three weeks 'till we plant and have our super WORK weekend.
Everyone is gearing up for college football this coming weekend when we will tailgate in the Grove and beat the crap out of those Mormons from BYU.
Hotty-Toddy! See you there!

Blue Devils and Pirates Friday Night

The Water Valley Blue Devils will take the field at home tonight to face their cross-county rivals, the Coffeeville Pirates, in an early game for bragging rights. Come early as a big crowd should be on hand to see us hopefully send them back to Coffeeville severely disappointed.
You can read all about it at the North Mississippi Herald and browse the rest of the paper too. Water Valley -vs- Coffeeville

A Tree Worth Knowing

On Dad's recent bulldozing extravaganza, he cut a new road along the edge of the bluff so that he and Guy Dale could hunt squirrels without having to strain themselves. He came upon this magnificent white oak tree that has survived here for a couple hundred years. He cleared out around it and hopes to plant a food plot there so he can deer hunt and suirrel hunt here too. Paul and I managed to get our picture taken in front of the giant while checking out the road. I think a big buck may be lurking near here so I better be ready to get a stand situated nearby.

Once Is Not Enough

The dust at the famous Christmas Place has hardly settled and Dad has already set up for the bulldozer to be there again this Thursday. The road leading to the GraveYard is impassable, the Creek Road is washed out and we can't get across the Beaver Dam. Dad says don't worry, he will take care of it. For all of you worried that Paul will not be able to get to his favorite hunting spots; I can assure you that Dad and the bulldozer are going to take care of that too. Paul really is the Devil!

The Origin Of Our Mascot

Early on the morning of August 22, 1864 Union General Andrew Jackson Smith, also known as “Whiskey Smith” rode his army into the little town of Oxford, MS.
His anger at the southern people was boiling over and Oxford is where he was going to make them pay for their insolence. His troops started out the day by tearing up the rails and burning the railroad depot before they systematically started looting the whole town. Stores and homes were ransacked and any resistance was met with a bullet or fire and it wasn’t long until the General ordered the burning of the stately courthouse, and then the burning of every building on the town square.
Flames and fire lit the sky as the townspeople sadly gathered to watch the destruction from a safe distance a few blocks south of the inferno as the Yankees hauled everything of value away. Late in the day, the army prepared to leave and the soldiers turned their overloaded wagons down what is now University Avenue in the general direction of Pontotoc.
A crowd of older men stood on the porch of a small house on South Lamar and watched in silence until they heard running steps racing toward them and a young boy shouted up to them that the soldiers were going to burn the University before they left. The men spoke quietly to each in their pain. There was nothing they could do.
One of the older men listened for a minute and with grim determination in his eyes, turned and hurried the few blocks to his home, called for his horse to be saddled, changed clothes and briskly rode toward the University that was now serving as a hospital.
He had changed into his blue officer pants from his time in the United States Army and put on his prized red British officers coat that he had captured in the War of 1812 and soon was riding toward the University.
Colonel Jackson Augustus Steele was a dashing figure in his fine attire, string tie, and gray cavalry hat as he rode toward the bridge above Hilgard Cut at the entrance to the University. He was an imposing figure too as observers noted the many pistols draped around him and the long rifle he carried. The Colonel was retired and too old at the time to serve in the Army but was a renowned war hero that had served and fought with General Jackson in the Battle of New Orleans in 1815, had served his country as an Indian fighter in the West, had stood with the Rebels in Texas against Santa Anna until he was wounded and missed the Battle of the Alamo in 1836 and had served as a Colonel in the War With Mexico in 1846. Now at the age of 65 he was still known as a dangerous man to be reckoned with.
A detachment of horse soldiers carrying torches soon appeared trotting their horses down the street toward the Lyceum and were surprised to see a lone horseman sitting tall and waiting quietly in the middle of the wooden bridge above the railroad cut.
The soldiers approaching took in his flinty blue eyes and relaxed commanding air as he calmly waited barring the bridge and they could also see the swelling mass of people starting to gather behind him. The townspeople of all ages had started to appear in the street leading to the Lyceum. Old, Young, Black, White, Women and Men quietly gathered carrying pitchforks, wooden staves, and bare fists in a last effort to defend the beloved buildings from being burned. The soldiers pulled up as the Lieutenant in charge rode up through the ranks of men to confront the old warrior.
No one knows exactly what was said as the two men quietly talked. Most people believe that he reminded the Lieutenant that the war was all but over and to burn a great University and hospital would be something that would haunt him the rest of his life, that he had led men in battle and sometimes to do the right thing you could not blindly follow orders and he most assuredly told the Lieutenant that he or his men would never cross the bridge alive if they continued with the insanity that they were contemplating.
Darkness was falling as the Lieutenant retired to talk with his men, but more and more of the Oxford people were moving into the street as word spread to hurry there to save the University. After a few minutes, the Lieutenant returned to face the Colonel, saluted, turned his men and they rode back the way they had come.
Years later, a drawing was made of him and attached to a football program to show the valor of the team. The tradition became part of our football history but the name of this hero was lost. He was simply known in Oxford as Colonel Jack.

08-22-1864

for all of you that keep writing and wanting to know what this is all about, I will at least give some clarification.
1.) no, it is not the date my dad got shot off his horse at Shiloh.
2.) It is not Bobby's Birthday.
3.) It has nothing to do with the age of Burney's latest girlfriend.
4.) It is not code for "PAUL IS THE DEVIL"
Keep researching, the answer is coming up in the next few days.

It's Dozing Time!

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Once again the time of the year has come when my dad gets that glazed look in his eye you need to look out for. His hands itch for action, he can smell diesel fuel in the air and he longs for mass destruction. Yes, it is time for bulldozing at the famous Christmas Place.
It does not matter how much money we have, it does not matter what any of the members think, it does not make a hoot in hell about any argument you make, he gets the bulldozer going the way he wants it done.
This past weekend he cleared a new road out along the base of the bluffs for him to hunt squirrels or maybe pop a deer if he feels like it. Then he went and increased the size of Burney's field and made a loop up to T- Field and made it bigger. In between he pretended to smooth the roads going back and forth to these areas. Stay out of his way at this time of year or you may look like a flattened tin can. Will let you know when it is safe to come visit

A Date In Infamy

Do you know what happened AUGUST 22, 1864?
stay tuned.