Lib Gower was a rabbit hunting man

By Guest Columnist Billy Johnson

As young boys growing up hunting and roaming the countryside, rabbit hunting was one of the most exciting things in our lives. My friend Mack Gower’s grandfather, Lib Gower, always had a big pack of top-notch beagles. The Gowers lived North of the Bassi family between Elizabeth and Napanee.

The Gowers were baseball playing and rabbit hunting people. Mack’s dad, little Lib, and his friend, Thomas Greenlee, were top notch baseball players when they were young and in their prime.

Mack was a hard nose baseball player who excelled in every level of the game. He played on one of Boo Ferriss’ Delta State winning teams. He also played on D.O. Baker’s Leland semi-pro team, The Leland Bakers. Mack’s grandfather told him he would give him $25 if he hit a home run in an important game. Mack hit two home runs, and, as he rounded third base after the second one, he hollered up to his grandfather in the stands, “Papaw, you better get to the bank before they close.” Everybody fell out laughing.

Rabbit hunting with the Gowers was a family affair. Mack was a crack shot with his 16 gauge and rarely missed a rabbit, duck or a dove with it. Kathy was a good shot with her .410.

Lib Gower thought more like a rabbit than a rabbit itself. He knew where all the holes were on the ditch banks. He believed in hunting slow and thorough and giving the dogs time to work. There were still a few coveys of quail scattered around through that country, and we would usually get a few during a day’s rabbit hunt.

Two things generally happened after a good rabbit hunt – a big meal of fried rabbit, rice and gravy and biscuits to start out with, t hen dreaming about rabbit hunting that night. There is not a better kind of sleep than after a long day of rabbit hunting walking in that buckshot mud and a big meal of rabbits for supper.

One incident that happened when I was a kid always made me scared of the Mississippi River. Lib Gower, Albert Bouler, Gordon Jones and C.K. Fuller were duck hunting on the river in a big wooden houseboat that C.Q. Hollowell of Leland built. It had a big inboard engine and would sleep up to ten people.

The group was coming back across the river after a several day duck and goose hunting trip. It was a foggy morning, and a southbound towboat pushing some barges hit their houseboat. Luckily, they escaped into the wooden skiff they were towing.

A southbound towboat doesn’t use its engines much, except to steer with. The only thing you could hear in the fog is the water lapping against the front barges. Mr. Gower was the last one out of the rolling houseboat. He jumped out, and his companions pulled him up in the skiff. They all survived, but it changed their lives.

Albert Bouler and Lib Gower became born again Christians as soon as they hit the riverbank. Uncle Albert was instrumental in forming the Bogue Baptist Church North of Leland. The towboat company paid for the boat and all the gear they lost in it. My Uncle Albert Bouler got his model 11 Remington shotgun replaced. It was a Browning patent build on a Remington frame. He later gave me the gun. It was heavy as lead, but shot true and hard with the improved cylinder barrel. It would shoot buckshot all the way through a deer.

C.K. Fuller had a place called Coon Rod, which was between two of Mr. C.A. Tate’s farms he called Po Chance and No Chance. No Chance was the North place. It was across from the Woolard’s house. It was one of Mr. Gower’s favorite places to rabbit hunt.

Coon Rod was a wild place. It had some of the worst buckshot mud in that part of the country. I don’t know how he did it, but Mr. Gower could look at a buckshot field and figure out where the easy walking was. It all looked the same to me.

Rabbit hunting is a lot of fun, but you have to be careful. There were three men living in Leland that had an eye put out rabbit hunting. Mr. Gower loved it when us kids would miss a rabbit and then he would kill it. He didn’t miss many rabbits or ducks. He didn’t waste shells. If they were too far, he didn’t shoot at it.

Lib Gower was the patriarch of a large rabbit hunting family. He hunted with his son, grandkids, and the top notch rabbit dogs he raised. Mr. Gower preached safety first when you were hunting. He gave many kids a chance to hunt who would otherwise not have had the opportunity.