Roger on the other hand wanted to make the trip.  Roger had spent a lot of time with his father-in-law and the dogs.
      The night Roger had waited for had finally arrived.  Roger was excited and he didn't know who was more excited him or the dogs.  He help load the dogs on the trucks.  The dogs braked repeatedly and releasing an explosive cry.  Everyone loaded up in the cabs of the trucks and traveled to the woods.  As the trucks came to a quick stop the dogs began to release loud short barks.  The older men assisted the younger men with adjustment of their guns.  They positioned them on their shoulders and backs. 
      The younger men held the dogs as they pulled them far in to the woods.  Once the dogs picked up the trail of the coon the men released the dogs and they took off like stallions in a quarter race.  The men followed in a slow trot and Roger stayed close to his father-in-law.  They could hear the dogs hollering and they continued to follow the hollering until they reached the dogs.  They had treed a coon.  Sam said, "O Yea they treed 'em one."
      Roger asked in excitement, "Where." His father-in-law instructed him to look at the fourth branch.  As he shined the light on the raccoon.  As Roger tried to get a view the dogs moving kept distracting him.  He looked up at the dogs. The raccoon hid from the light.  The dogs moved so rapidly as if dancing to their disco sound.  They barked, twisted, leaped, and wagged their tails to their own rhythm Cousin Sam asked, "Wilbert are you going to take the fist shot."  "No" he replied "I'm gonna let Roger take it."   
      George and Charles moved the dogs over away from the tree.  While Wilbert and Cousin Sam shined the flashlight up the fourth branch.  Roger took a deep breath and held it.  And with one shot the coon fell to the ground. Roger was very excited over the shot, he gave a loud cry.
      The dogs were released to pick up another trail.  Roger was beginning to slow down on the hunt.  He didn't complain but he felt ill as the hunt continued.  Wilbert was beginning to worry about Roger. "Son are you alright," he asked.  Roger replied, "I'm okay. What's that sound, it sounds like running water."
      Wilbert took time to lead the hunting group through a pathway to the river.  As the men reached the bank of the river, Roger took a deep breath.  His eyes were captivated.  By the beauty of the moonlight reflecting on the river. The sound of the dogs hollering brought the men's attention back to the hunt.
      Roger had done well on the hunt. He was honored with shot and it was a successful one.  The men had brought home four coons, which was considered a good Coon Hunt Event.
      The family coon hunt has lost many of the men who shared this tradition.  Mr. Mobley a good friend. Cousin Sam a loving and faithful friend, and Wilbert.  Wilbert hunted his last coon hunt with his son Charles and their friend Donny.  Wilbert was 81 years old at that time. 
      They are no longer with the family to participate in the Annual Coon Hunt in the physical. But their spirits living with the family daily especially around the Coon Hunt.