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Bouzier Creek Whitetail: Stories, Tall Tales, and Memories of a Whitetail Deer Hunter and the People He Met Along the Way

Bouzier Creek Whitetail: Stories, Tall Tales, and Memories of a Whitetail Deer Hunter and the People He Met Along the Way

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Bouzier Creek Whitetail: Stories, Tall Tales, and Memories of a Whitetail Deer Hunter and the People He Met Along the Way

75 pagine
1 ora
Feb 17, 2014


This is the story of a young man as he journeys through life. On his journey, he learns to hunt the elusive whitetail deer as well as wild pigs.

As you read his life story, you will meet the men who mentored him as a hunter and a Christian, teaching him to become a responsible adult and hunter and how to apply lessons learned to his own family, making him a better man for it.

Feb 17, 2014

Informazioni sull'autore

John W. Hamilton is a faithful Christian, husband, father, and grandfather. He is a power line worker in the West Texas oil fields. He has spent a lifetime chasing the elusive whitetail deer, as well as wild boar.

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Bouzier Creek Whitetail - John W. Hamilton



Stories, Tall Tales, and Memories of a Whitetail Deer Hunter and the People He Met along the Way


Copyright © 2014 John W. Hamilton.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Inspiring Voices books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

Inspiring Voices

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

1 (866) 697-5313

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-4624-0907-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4624-0908-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014902447

Inspiring Voices rev. date: 02/14/2014



Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

In memory of my dad, C. W. Hamilton; my son, Christopher William Hamilton and my hunting buddies Weldon Hurley, Bert Helm and Maynard Hatley.

Thanks to all of you who had a part in making my life what it has become. I could not have done it without you.

Special Thanks to my friend Mac Hurley who has kept me grounded through the years and Vince McClure who is a friend’s friend.


Little did I know at the time what a change was in store for me the first time I watched a tan 1957 Chevy truck with a silver camper drive around our circle drive. I had no idea that I would spend the next fifteen years eagerly waiting the next time Weldon Hurley decided to go hunting. On occasion he would bring his hunting bubby Bert and his son Mac was almost always with him. We always had fun and an adventure was guaranteed.

My dad C. W. Bill Hamilton, owned the seventeen-hundred acres, located in Coke County Texas, that we hunted on and we had the run of the place. Not an inch went unexplored or a day went by that I didn’t think of how I was going to bag my next whitetail.

Looking back, I realized what a blessing the ranch and the people I grew up around were and still continue to be through all I learned from them. A day hardly goes by that I don’t think of them in one way or the other. I am a blessed man.


In the fall of 1969, my dad and I are standing in the drive working on our 62’ Chevy truck, when we heard someone driving up to the house. Now people didn’t just drive up to the house, you had to be coming to our house to get there. You see, we lived on a ranch. The closest paved road was three miles, and town with 338 residents, was two more after that. Our closest neighbor was a mile away across the pasture and four miles by road. To say I was curious about who was coming to our house was an understatement. When I saw the truck and did not recognize it, I asked dad, Who’s that? He just said, Your mother’s uncle.

My mother’s uncle? I thought. At eleven years of age I didn’t even know she had an uncle. Now my curiosity was at an all time high and a ton of questions were going through my mind.

The man that got out of the truck could only be described as having a contagious smile, and I was soon to learn that if you we not having fun around Weldon, you were either asleep or dead. He and Dad shook hands, and it was very evident that the two were good friends. I would later learn that Weldon was dad’s best man when he married my mother.

He shook my hand and said that I had grown since he had last seen me, which was when I was born in 1958, I soon learned. As he and dad talked and caught up on the family news, the conversation turned to hunting, but not just hunting, deer hunting. I didn’t know any one hunted deer, but I was all ears and anxious to hear more.

Weldon was asking questions like the best place to see deer and how many dad thought we had and when he had last seen one. All these questions led me to believe he didn’t think we had many, but dad and I saw deer all the time, like every day if we were out driving around feeding the cattle. In fact our wheat fields looked like we ran sheep, the tracks were so thick. Weldon even asked, Do ya’ll have sheep in these fields? He couldn’t believe all the tracks were deer. Well, we drove around looking at several places. He and dad finally decided on a wheat field to hunt. I had no idea what Weldon had in mind, but I would later learn that he would

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