Opinion & Comment

Wildlife biologist admired beaver trapper and his unfettered lifestyle

APPALACHIAN NOTEBOOK - Steve Oden

T.C. Dawson was a trapper’s trapper, someone who was a throwback to the long hunters and frontier fur traders of an earlier century.

David Nelson, wild game biologist for the Alabama Department of Conservation and Natural Resources, recalled that T.C. Dawson’s fame as a beaver trapper was wide-spread across the region. His skill and zeal for trapping brought him plenty of work offers.

“He started trapping back in the 1960s along those little creeks in the Tennessee Valley,” said Nelson, who learned much about the fur trade at Dawson’s elbow. “He trapped mink and muskrat.”

Dawson later became fascinated with beaver trapping. “He might have caught the first beavers in that part of the country” after the population started resurging, according to Nelson.

“He started beaver trapping for American Can Corp. around 1969 or 1970. That’s when I met him.”

Nelson had grown up hunting squirrels, rabbits, and trapping in the hills of Marion County. He decided to pursue a career in wildlife biology. For him, a character like T.C. Dawson was a treasure trove of knowledge.

“There weren’t any deer or wild turkeys back then. If you told somebody that you’d seen a deer, they’d call you a liar. You’d have to dig up the deer track and put it in a shoe box to prove it.”

Nelson said people like Dawson were rare, and it was hard for a fellow outdoorsman not to be drawn to him.

“They lived lives that we longed to experience but couldn’t because of those ‘other’ responsibilities. I just wish I’d spent more time with him.”

Stories about Dawson abound.

“An outfit in Corinth, Mississippi, bought his furs. He’d load up the back of his old truck and take off over there when his freezers were full,” Nelson remembered. One trip, the load of 500 beaver pelts and 50 otter skins caused the springs of the truck to sag. “It was an awful big collection of skins, but he was a heck of a trapper.”

When Dawson stopped his truck at a country store, a crowd would always gather.

“There was no telling what he’d have piled in the back: beavers, coyotes, or wild hogs. Often as not, he’d have a hissing and spitting bobcat in a cage. I went out to his house one time. He had stacks of traps… I mean, he had hundreds of them.”

When he started using live traps, Dawson got the idea of catching and breeding bobcats. No one knew what his plans were for the “tame” bobcats, but the wild cats apparently lived a harmonious existence in cages with coyotes, raccoons, and other wild critters that Dawson kept as pets.

“On a freezing night, all those varmints would pile up together in a furry ball in the corner of a cage,” said Nelson.

Once, Dawson was believed to have died. Someone who had borrowed a three-inch magnum shotgun from him kept it because he didn’t know how to contact the trapper’s survivors.

“What really happened was that T.C. got bit by one of the critters he was taking out of the trap. He was laid up with blood poisoning for a while and out of circulation,” laughed Nelson.

The man with the borrowed shotgun received a shock when he crossed paths with an alive-and-kicking Dawson. The gun was immediately returned.

Nelson wishes he had a collection of tales about and told by Dawson.

“He was featured once years ago in ‘Trapper and Predator Caller’ magazine. It was a big spread, with old photographs of T.C. in his overalls and hip boots. I saved a copy but would have to hunt to find it. It was a good write-up.”

Trapping, especially setting traps for beavers, is hard work, but Dawson stayed at it far into his sixth decade.

“One of the best times we had together was when I was assigned to an area where T.C. was supposed to start trapping. He showed up one day in his Cadillac, and we took off to scout the trapping grounds. It was a special trip,” said Nelson.

Dawson succumbed to a heart attack about 10 years ago, according to Nelson. His passing left a void in the world of outdoorsmen.

“He was a character like few I’ve ever met.”