You May Need to Build a Rabbit Box Someday

As a young man in the Appalachian Mountains, breakfast; or, any food for that matter, was a Godsend. I was too young to hunt alone, although I knew how to shoot. My grandfather taught me when I was about six. He had what was then called a "long Tom" shotgun. He loaded it for me one day and sat up a sauerkraut can for a target. He told me to pull the gun against my shoulder tightly and take a bead on the can; take a deep breath and blow out half and gently squeeze the trigger.

I still recall the best piece of advice he gave me. With a stern, serious look...he was about six inches from my face. He almost spoke it in a whisper so "Tom" couldn't hear. He said," Now when you shoot, ole Tom's gonna knock you to the ground. My advice is to lay real still 'cause if he sees you move, he'll jump on you again." I swallowed hard; he spat tobacco and turned away saying, "fire when ready".

I squeezed the trigger and, I swear, I heard a sonic boom. I spun to the ground and heard papaw laughing. I figured it was okay to look, then. That kraut can had gone from an oaken stump three trees down to rattling on the limb of an ash tree. There were so many holes in that can, the wind blowing through it played a pretty tune.

Before I went to school in the morning, momma took us to granny and papaws for breakfast. We always had biscuit and gravy. If we were lucky, we had bacon, ham or sausage. More often than not, we had fried rabbit. I loved it and granny sure knew how to cook it.

Papaw would put on his hunting vest, an old hat and that damned long Tom. He would say," I saw a rabbit in the briar patch yesterday. I'll go shoot him and be back in a minute. Granny, you can go ahead an put some lard in the skillet." She would, too. It wouldn't be 15 minutes 'til papaw would be out in the back yard, skinnin' a rabbit. I was just amazed. Of course sometimes we would have squirrel and gravy and biscuits, but mostly it was rabbit and he would announce it before he killed it where he had seen the varmint.

It was one of the great pleasures of life...going to school with a full belly. There were times I went hungry. Momma tried to fix up powdered eggs and powdered milk, but I just couldn't eat it. That's why we went to Granny and Papaws so often Momma had two younger kids just a year apart and if they didn't get a good breakfast, they would cry all morning.

We lived in Tennessee and daddy got a $40.00 a week job offer in Alabama just an hour away from where we lived. Daddy took the job, but my papaw felt compelled to tell me his rabbit hunting secret. He told me he had four rabbit boxes scattered about the garden and he baited them with apples, turnips, and carrots...whatever he had. He showed me a rabbit box and I was amazed at its simplicity and functionality. Papaw said every once in a while he would find possum in there. He'd just poke him with a stick 'til he sulled up, then put on a glove and get him out of there. Those were some of the times he would kill a squirrel.

Papaw was always worried about us having food, even though $40.00 a week was a lot of money in 1961. He gave me one of the rabbit boxes and showed me how to use it. He sat down with pencil and paper and drew one for me in case mine broke. I looked outside the basement window and we both laughed at the chewing antics of the rabbits starring us down.

Time has taken the original drawing from me, and it has taken my grandparents and parents. They all did their best. I still remember how to build a rabbit box and I have included my memories of one in the graphics section.

If you ever get a chance to shoot an "old Tom or a "long Tom", use ear plugs.