Lonnie Uchtman and his legendary Blueticks hold international records

If you know anything about Bluetick hounds or the sport of coon hunting, you’ve probably heard of Lonnie Uchtman. The Tecumseh resident has made quite a name for himself in the coon hunting community, building a legacy that reaches far beyond this place he calls home. 

In his many decades participating in the sport, Lonnie has earned a distinction no other breeder in history has achieved - being the only man to have four generations of top 10 stud dogs of any breed in the United Kennel Club’s 125-year history. That distinction includes not only Blueticks, but also Black and Tan, English, Plott, Treeing Walker, Leopard Curr and Red Bone Coonhound breeds. He also has owned the #1, #4 and #5 top male reproducers and #7 female reproducer in the Bluetick breed. It’s an accolade that Lonnie is proud of and confident in. “Ain’t nobody going to break this record. I can promise you that - at least not in our lifetime.” 

Lonnie and his wife Bev were recently honored with two plaques in honor of their achievements. One plaque, featuring photos of Lonnie’s top five champion-producing dogs, sums up his accomplishments nicely:

“A legacy etched in Bluetick bloodlines: In honor of Lonnie Uchtman, a man whose passion, vision and tireless dedication set a standard no one else has reached. The only man to ever own four of the top-reproducing Bluetick stud dogs and one extraordinary female whose lineage continues to shape the future of the breed. More than dogs, you raised legends. More than an achievement, you built a legacy. This tribute stands in gratitude for a lifetime devoted to excellence, integrity and the heart of the hound.”

Although he’s racked up more trophies than he can fit in his house, barn, dog kennel or any other usable building on the property, Lonnie says the awards, the accolades and the world records, they all just fell into place while he was doing what he loves. 

“I was just coon hunting,” he told the Times. “I wasn’t trying to break no records, but as it turned out, I broke every record in the book.”

The Uchtman family legacy

You could say that Lonnie came into this world ready to turn a dog loose after a raccoon. He was one of nine boys born to William “Bill” Uchtman, of Clarkridge, Arkansas, a man who found his own love for the sport more than 70 years ago in the 1950s. 

It was early on when Bill decided to begin breeding coon dogs, starting the Uchtman Bluetick lineage that is now known across the world. 

“My dad, he hunted with people like R.E. Duggins and Jake Miller. Those were the first people I ever knew from Missouri because they’d come over hunting with Dad,” Lonnie said. 

Over the years, more than half of Bill’s sons picked up the sport, including Lonnie, who quickly fell in love with it.

“Dad would let us kids go hunt. We’d get up at like 4 o’clock in the morning, and we’d hunt down around the lake, that way we wouldn’t get lost,” Lonnie said. “We’d hunt plumb to noon and catch raccoons.”

For those unfamiliar with the sport, coon hunting is the practice of hunting raccoons, usually at night, using trained dogs who use their keen sense of smell to track the nocturnal animals. After locating a raccoon, the dog chases the animal until it seeks refuge in a tree. The coon dog then stays at the base of the tree, howling in signal to the hunter, who then follows the sound to the treed animal. Traditionally, hunters then shot and harvested the raccoon for meat and fur, but with no real market for either nowadays, many hunters practice a catch-and-release sport to ensure there are plenty of raccoons for future hunts.

Competition coon hunting involves “casts,” or groups of four hunters, letting their dogs loose at the same time to race against each other to tree raccoons. Each hound is awarded points based on how quickly it can find and tree a coon, while keeping the animal alive. The hunter whose dog accumulates the most points wins the cast or round. After winning a certain number of casts, a dog and hunter can achieve the coveted “Nite Champion” status or the highest title in the sport, “Grand Nite Champion.”

Laying brick by day, hunting coons by night

When Lonnie graduated from high school in 1972, his principal, Marvin Newton, said he knew Lonnie would have a bright future. Quick to explain that he wasn’t the most studious pupil in class, Lonnie said his principal’s words hit him kind of funny at the time. 

“I didn’t win no awards or nothing like that in school. I was just glad to get out. I was wanting to go work and go hunt,” he said. “But my principal, he told me that I would be successful in coon hunting someday. Turns out, he was right. But heck, back then, I didn’t have a clue what he meant. I just wanted to hunt - and I did. I just hunted. Everything else just kind of happened.”

Like his dad and several of his brothers, Lonnie raised his own dogs. He decided early on that he wanted to stick with the lineage his father had begun. “I just stayed with the same line of dogs all these years,” he said. It turned out that choice was a good one, and he holds the records to prove it. 

He said that while other breeders were selling dogs to make a living, his breeding was not financially focused. Instead, it paid off in more important ways, with his stud dogs throwing extremely high numbers of pups that earned championship titles at competitions.

“It was never about the money for me. It’s always just been about the dogs. We’ve turned away a lot of money over the years,” he said. “The dogs I had back then, in today’s money, they would probably bring $40,000 or $50,000 a piece. I had one man tell me he’d mortgage his house if I’d sell him Hornet, but I didn’t,” he said. 

“Those other guys were running pup factories. I was making a living laying rock,” Lonnie said, referencing the masonry business he and brother Wilbern operated for more than 40 years.

Laying rock was a tough business, and he and Wilbern worked hard at it. Lonnie retired after 47 years.

“They didn’t make them any tougher than Wilbern and me back in the day. We never knew what time we’d get home of an evening. If we had something to get done, we’d work to almost dark. There were days that Wilbern and I would lay 1,300 blocks - then come home and hunt,” Lonnie said. No matter how long the day, Lonnie said he always found the energy to coon hunt once night fell.

“We didn’t even have trailers back then. I’d come home from work and unload all the scaffolding out of the back of my truck, put my dog box in and go coon hunting. Then I’d get up early the next morning and load all the scaffolding back in. Somebody said, ‘Boy, you must really want to go hunting bad to do all that,” Lonnie said. “And, well, I did.”

Lonnie said he and his coon hunting brothers were drawn to Missouri, right over the state line from their home in Clarkridge, Arkansas, because the ample farming in those days attracted lots of raccoons. 

“In Arkansas, we didn’t have no coons. I mean, if you went out and hunted all night and treed two, you was lucky. That’s the reason why all of us end up in Missouri. You’ns always had a lot more coons then we did,” he said. “More feed, dairy farms, hogs... just like going to Iowa.”

He said in his younger years, he hunted hard, often six nights a week. Many times with Ronnie “Skid” Evans and Robert Merriman alongside him. 

Back in those days, they hunted a lot of ground, and Lonnie says he’s always been thankful for all the landowners who have granted him and his hunting buddies permission to hunt on their properties.

“I couldn’t have done any of this if it wasn’t for them,” he said. “Dave Morrison’s hog farm helped me as much as anything. Me and Skid hunted up there a lot back in the day, back when I was hunting ol’ Hawk. We used to go to Rex Robert’s old dairy farm up in Thornfield and we also hunted a lot at Bob Walker’s dairy farm at Gainesville. There were just so many places, and I appreciate every single one of the landowners.”

Meanwhile, while Lonnie was growing up coon hunting, Bev was raised just down the road within a family who also loved the sport. 

“Her grandpa had dogs. Her brother had dogs. I hunted with her brother, and then her sister Edna married Wilbern. So, we was all connected,” Lonnie said. 

Lonnie and Bev fell in love and were married. And Bev’s been by Lonnie’s side ever since. 

“She’s been a big supporter, real big,” Lonnie said. 

A long list of great dogs

The shining jewel in Lonnie’s legacy was his dog Hawk, a Bluetick hound born in 1981, who still retains the title of the number one champion reproducing Bluetick in UKC registry history, across the world. 

Hawk has held the record for over 40 years now, earning the title by having an extremely high percentage of pups who grew to be competition champion coon dogs. Of the 914 pups born to Hawk, 97 were champions.

While Lonnie says a stud dog is usually bred for 10 years, Hawk’s life was cut short at age 8 when he contracted an autoimmune disease that led to his demise. “Just think of what those numbers would have been if he had lived,” Lonnie said. “He probably would’ve had two more strong years if we’d have been able to keep him healthy.”

Scout, Lonnie’s second most successful champion reproducing dog, who still retains the #4 spot historically in UKC’s history, was a male hound who had 657 pups, with 71 being named champion. 

Hornet, Lonnie’s third most successful champion reproducing dog, holds the #5 spot. He had 678 pups with 65 champions born. 

Although sitting outside the top five, another dog, Clyde, historically ranks in the top 10. He had 197 pups with 34 champions. In addition to showing his dogs on the bench, Lonnie also competition hunted them. He earned another world title distinction that way with Clyde being named the only dual Grand Nite Champion at a world hunt. His dog Fly was also named the high-scoring Bluetick female at that competition.

Although Lonnie said he didn’t keep a lot of females, he did have one record-setting gal. Cheater, was the #7 record-setting champion producing Bluetick female, who had 15 champions within her 50 pups born. 

“So, I’ve owned one-fifth of the champion reproducing hounds in the world. All of these dogs are gone now. This has been over 40 years,” he said. “This is history.”

Those who travel down Highway 160 in Tecumseh might notice the large Uchtman Bluetick sign that sits in a field just off the highway, commemorating that history. “That’s what that sign is all about,” Lonnie said. “All of this history.”

‘It’s all different’

Now 71, Lonnie says his coon hunting nights are different than when he was a younger man - and the sport itself has changed too. 

There are both fewer hunters these days and fewer raccoons to hunt. The hunts are shorter and are also far more plentiful than they were back in Lonnie’s golden days. 

“It’s like anything. It changes. It’s all different than it used to be,” he said.

Lonnie no longer seeks competition accolades. “That’s a young man’s sport, and at my age, I don’t need to competition hunting anymore,” he said, recalling all the long nights he had after working all day on far too little sleep - and all the travel involved with chasing titles.

He also took a long break from breeding, although he says he’s recently decided to get back into it to help future bloodlines in the sport. “Clyde was my last one. I got a grandpup out of him now,” he said. “I quit studding dogs about 15 years ago, but they need some help now. So I thought I might ought to help them out.”

Despite slowing down, Lonnie says he still coon hunts and always will. But Lonnie and Bev have lots more to keep them busy too - they own a big farm, managing 300 acres of their own and another 200 acres of leased ground, along with cattle, horses, grandkids and more. They also run a local mail route in Gainesville. 

But their farm is still lively with the sound of Blueticks, including two of the cutest little 9-month-old hounds you’ve ever seen. Bev says she’s enjoyed having the pups around to love on. “We’re not out of it yet. We’re far from out of it,” Bev said.

Lonnie agreed, listing off the dogs they currently have. “We’ve got Snap, the dog I’m hunting now, who I like real well... Platinum and Chrome, Ranger, Rising Star and Benni Doll... We keep around 10 [dogs] anymore,” Lonnie said. 

Honored by those who matter most

Each June for the last 27 years, Lonnie and several others have gathered in Ava for the Annual Southern Classic and William Uchtman Memorial Hunt, organized in honor of Lonnie’s dad. This year, he and Bev were recognized and awarded two plaques by fellow hunters who have grown to be some of their best friends. 

As hunting buddy Shane Wheeler presented one plaque, he told the story of how he came to know Bev and Lonnie. 

“I first met Lonnie in the 1980s in Clinton, Alabama, at Bluetick Days. I made my first trip to his house in 1991 and bought one of the last pups that ever lived out of ol’ Hawk,” he said. “That day, me and dad pulled up, and Bev was walking Scout down the driveway. We rolled down the window, and she said, “You’ns have a good trip?” I fell in love with her right then, and I’ve liked Lonnie ever since. 

“Lonnie has done what no man in any breed has done. In UKC’s records, there are 20 historical reproducers listed, both male and female, and Lonnie Uchtman owned one fifth of them. No breeder can say that.

“I don’t think Lonnie meant for this to happen. Sometimes in life, we’re just at the right place at the right time. But I know there’s also nobody more deserving to be recognized than these two. Not just in the Bluetick breed, but if you look in all the breeds UKC recognizes, there’s no individual who holds as many records in historical reproducing as this man right here, and it’s well deserved.”

Shane and the others also praised Bev for her tireless work - raising pups, making countless trips to the airport to send dogs across the country and keeping things running smoothly at home. “‘Cause we all know where Lonnie was,” Shane said with a laugh. “He was in the woods.”

Lonnie smiled and nodded in quiet agreement, grateful for the woman who’s stood beside him through it all, a partner who’s come to love the sport just as deeply as the man who’s lived it. It’s a part of life for the Uchtmans - and always will be. 

Though he’s stepped back from competitions and breeding, Lonnie’s coon hunting days are far from over. These days, he’s focused on what truly matters: the hunt itself. 

If you find yourself passing through the Tecumseh hills after dark, listen closely. You might just hear the soft thump of paws on the ground, the rustle of a coon taking to a tree and the rising, unmistakable cry of a Bluetick on the trail. In that sound lives the heartbeat of Lonnie Uchtman’s legacy, a story still unfolding: one bark, one hunt, one honest dog at a time.