Legend of 'Koz,' lion killer extraordinaire

Posted: May 11, 2006

Crocker Stephenson

This is the story of how DuWayne "Koz" Kosakoski killed a man-eating lion that had escaped from a circus or a zoo or something.

Koz, who died in the fall of 2002, founded Koz's Mini Bowl with his wife, Carol, in the 1970s. It was his son, Tyler, who told me the story just after the bar - it's still there, right where it's supposed be, on the corner of S. 7th and W. Becher - opened on a recent afternoon.

"My father, he killed it with his own hands," Tyler said.

Carol walked by and, having overheard these words, shook her head and let out a small laugh that sounded like something between a snort and a huff.

"He was in Montana with some friends," Tyler said.

Snapshots Mind you, hes on a cliff. Hes got like a 15-foot wall of stone above him. And the moment he turns to see whats moving behind him: BAM! - Tyler Kosakoski, spinning a tale of how his dad killed a man-eating lion

"He was on leave from the service in 1968," Carol said. "And they were on donkeys in the wilderness."

Tyler thought about this for a moment, then said, "So. He's heading up the mountain and they stop to make camp. The other guys went out to shoot something for dinner."

"Rabbits," Carol said.

"And so," Tyler said, "he is kneeling down to put more wood on the fire, because he stayed behind to make camp. And then he hears a couple of rocks behind him.

"Mind you, he's on a cliff. He's got like a 15-foot wall of stone above him. And the moment he turns to see what's moving behind him: BAM!

"He is on his back with a lion standing right over him. The lion takes a bite out of his shoulder - his right shoulder - and he passes out.

"The only reason he woke up is because the lion was licking blood from his wound. He could feel the whiskers being torn from his face by the lion's tongue. He realized: It's now or never. He reaches down for his boot knife."

Tyler walked over to lion skin draped over a cooler - did I mention that there's an 11-foot lion skin draped over a cooler at Koz's? - and pulled a large black knife from the lion's chest.

"The lion roared in his face," Tyler said, placing the knife on the bar. "My dad's head slams back into the gravel. Fifteen years later, he was still pulling chunks of gravel from his head.

"So, he reaches down to get a grab on the knife before he passes out again, and with the tips of his fingers he fishes the knife out and thrusts it into the left shoulder of the lion.

"The lion didn't seem to notice. He pulled it out and thrusts it in again, twisting it. The lion roared. He saw a spot where the lion bared his neck and he thrust - what's a better word for thrust? - he drove the blade in and killed him instantly."

Tyler picked up the knife and reinserted it just beneath the lion's chin.

"He figured he was going to bleed to death waiting for his friends, so he skinned the lion and wore it into town, riding on his donkey."

Why, I asked.

"Why what?" asked Tyler.

Why, if your father was bleeding to death, did he go through the trouble of gutting the lion and wearing its skin into town?

Tyler shrugged, and we all wished his dad was still around so we could ask him.