A History Written in Smoke, Tradition, and Ozark Wind
If you follow the drifting lace of black powder smoke in late September around Berryville, Arkansas, you’re likely chasing something older than the calendar, something carried in the rhythm of careful loading and earnest marksmanship. That tradition lives at Luther Owens’ Memorial Range and Park, the home of one of the longest‑running muzzleloader gatherings in the state—the Saunders Memorial Shoot.
In the quaint town of Berryville, nestled in the Ozark Mountains, two figures whose names would become inseparable from black powder heritage: C. Burton “Buck” Saunders and Luther Owens struck up a lasting friendship.
Colonel Charles Burton “Buck” Saunders was more than a local character; he was a world traveler and an avid collector of historical firearms, assembling one of the nation’s most remarkable gun collections, now preserved in the Saunders Museum in downtown Berryville.
Saunders’ generosity extended beyond artifacts. When he died in 1952, he left land and an enduring interest in guns and history to the city. His friend, Luther Owens, took that legacy and shaped it into something that would gather people year after year—a place not just to look at history, but to practice it.
Owens was a man of quiet resolve. He organized a muzzleloader shooting club and worked to develop the land Saunders had willed to the city into a proper outdoor range. By the mid-1970’s, the city of Berryville formally established what is now the Luther Owens Shooting Range and Park, a public facility designed to offer rifle and pistol ranges alongside natural Ozark scenery.
Rather than being a sterile field of targets, the park quickly became a gathering place. The firing line stretched out toward the rolling hills, marked in careful 25‑yard increments—a range where patience, light, wind, and careful aim mattered more than anything modern and fast.
Not long after the range’s founding, shooters from across Arkansas and beyond began to make annual pilgrimages to Berryville in late September. The Saunders Memorial Shoot soon took shape as one of the region’s most enduring muzzleloader competitions.
It had become more than a contest. It was a celebration of tradition: black powder rifles, flintlocks and percussion alike; pistols that thumped with honest recoil; shotguns that sweep wide looking for the shot; and a community of shooters who learned from smoke and from each other. Vendors would set up with powder and tools, neighbors would share meals, and youth and veterans alike would test their skill under the same sky.
Today, the Saunders Memorial Shoot at the Luther Owens Memorial Range and Park is more than a place on a map. It is a chapter of living history. Shooters still step onto the firing line mindful of the discipline that black powder demands. The rhythm of loading and firing, of waiting for the call to start a relay, keeps alive a craft that long predates cartridges and optical sights.
Each year, when the Saunders Memorial Shoot rolls around, the wind off the Ozarks carries more than echoes. It brings the memory of two men who cared for craft and community—one who collected history, and one who built a place for it to be lived. And somewhere in the swirl of autumn smoke, their influence still guides the careful hand, the steady eye, and the respectful nod of shooters gathered in Berryville.
The smoke on the firing line drifts toward tomorrow as surely as it drifts across the Ozarks. The Luther Owens Memorial Range and the Saunders Memorial Shoot are more than relics—they are teachers, whispering the lessons of patience, skill, and integrity to every new shooter who steps forward.
Future generations will inherit more than rifles; they will inherit responsibility. They will learn that a muzzleloader is not just metal and wood, but a bridge to the past, a test of focus, and a celebration of craftsmanship. The park and the match will continue to grow, welcoming young hands, curious minds, and families who discover that tradition is alive when practiced, not just remembered.
In years to come, the echoes of flint striking steel, the smell of black powder, and the soft applause of a well-placed shot will still carry the names of Buck Saunders and Luther Owens, reminding every shooter that legacy is built one careful, deliberate shot at a time.