Thanksgiving Past

Seth.....

As I hunted today, the day before Thanksgiving.....with you in Afghanistan.....I couldn't help but reflect on "Thanksgiving Past."

I remembered.....

It was your first deer season.....2003.  We went out the day after Thanksgiving.  If you remember....it was cold and blizzard like.  Snow and sleet were coming down.  I wondered what in the heck we were doing out there.  Then....the deer started showing up.  You remember what a show??  Big bucks running does all over the field.  Twice you had an opportunity to shoot a doe (your first deer) but you said...."No....I am going to wait for one of those bucks."  You not only sucked it up in the cold.....you were willing to do what you had to in order to get one of those bucks.  We didn't get one that day.....but it is ingrained in my memory forever.

The following year....2004......after Thanksgiving Dinner at Ruth Hassfurder's.....we went out hunting that night.  You shot a doe with a .20 gauge.....that we never could find.  Never could figure that one out.  Next day....I decided to introduce you to the muzzle loader.  We hunted the same blind and it was raining so hard we couldn't hear each other talk.  You asked me if we were wasting our time....and I pointed out to you the squirrels that were feeding in the field.  You remember what I said?  I said...."If they are out....so will the deer."  Sure enough...about 20 minutes later....two does came out.  You picked one out and shot it in a pouring down rain.  When the smoke cleared....the deer was laying down on the ground.  I'll never forget your first words after that.  You said..."This is my new favorite gun!!"  And it sure was.  You never used another one.  It will always be your gun.  It sits in the gun cabinet waiting for you.

The pic above was from 2007.  After Thanksgiving Dinner at Clifty Inn.....I took you to a spot I "had a feeling" about.  I let you hunt by yourself.  I set you up against a tree overlooking a creek bottom.  You had your cell phone.....and I went rabbit hunting with Mr. Blane.  We had not been hunting 10 minutes when I got your call...."Dad....I got him!!"  I'll never forget how cool it looked seeing your buck laying up on that hillside.

Yep....the spirit of Thanksgiving Past whispered loudly to me today.

I miss you so much and wish you were home to share a hunt.

Not a moment goes by each day you are not on my mind....and in my prayers.

As Mom said earlier today.....Happy Thanksgiving son to you and your fellow Rakkasans.

All of you....be safe...and come home soon!!

Love,
Dad

We Give You Our Son

 

 

We hugged him as a boy.

And through the years he has become

our greatest pride and joy.  We love him more than we can say,

his life more precious than our own.  But gone are the

whims and notions of the little boy that we have known.

For the years have passed so quickly

since the time it all began, and now he stands before us

with the convictions of a man.  He wants to serve his country

he states aloud with pride, and we try to sort out the emotions

that we are feeling deep inside.  A union of the uncertain fear,

which we cannot control, and the allegiance that lies deep within our patriotic souls.  We trust that our years of guidance

will serve as a strong foundation as he performs the

duties requested from his beloved nation.

God, please guide him as he travels

to the places our Soldiers have bled,

and walk with him through pathways where those

heroes' feet have tread.  Oh, Sweet Land of Liberty,

humbly we give you our son, praying you'll return him

safely home when his work for you is done.

 

(Adapted from an unknown author on the day Seth left for Afghanistan for a 9 month deployment.)

Tribute to "The King!"

Going turkey hunting on Mother’s Day usually does not score you a lot of “brownie” points with the wife. However, this time, I had her full blessing.

It was the last day of the 2011 turkey season in Indiana and I had put my personal ambitions aside to help both my wife and one of the girls from our archery team collect their first turkeys. I believe my personal hunting time, before that Mother’s Day morning, could be counted in hours….not days.

Under normal circumstances, I may not have had much motivation to drag myself out of bed that morning. It was a church morning. However, on this particular morning we did not have an early service so I decided I would try until 8 AM giving me plenty of time to get home and get ready.

However, this was not a normal circumstance. I was hunting one particular bird. I do not think in my twenty years of turkey hunting that I had ever hunted one particular bird. Usually, it is “set up…call…and see what comes in.”

This bird we had nicknamed “The King” simply because he was THE king of this particular field. One day while hunting with the girl from our archery team I watched a healthy two year old (that my wife shot the next day) run all the way across the field in retreat from the “king.” When the “king” was in the field there was never any other tom within 150 yards of him!!!!

About a week before that incident, the young lady almost got the king. He walked and strutted with his hens towards our blind from well over 200 yards away. He actually came close enough to turn the safety off on the gun. Every time I would send out the softest of calls he would double gobble and strut. He clearly saw our decoy. However, he was too proud to lower himself to walk to the decoy. She was going to have to do the proper thing and come to him. At the last minute, he made a course change and pulled his hens with him out of shotgun range.

One of the afternoons I got to hunt I took my bow and set up in the same place my wife had recently shot her turkey. Sure enough, he showed up with his harem. Like all the other times he stayed far away from the blind putting on a show for me the whole time. (see picture above)

On that Mother’s Day morning, I decided to do things “the old fashioned way.” I was going to “run and gun.” I had not hunted like that in years, especially in the pursuit of my turkey bow slam. That required a lot of hours sitting in blinds. This morning, however, I was going to locate a bird, set up on him, and see what happens. It was obvious the “king” was blind shy.

I arrived at my son in law’s farm well before daylight. It was a perfect morning….clear skies and no wind…comfortable temperature.

I didn’t have to wait too long to hear him sound off from the roost. As soon as he gobbled I began my move. I went half way across the field and set up in the tree line about 150 yards from him.

He was now gobbling from the roost at a pretty fevered rate. I gave a soft tree yelp with my mouth call and he immediately responded. One more time and then I shut up. My silence was irritating him because he constantly gobbled trying to get me to respond. I decided to play hard to get.

Commotion behind me startled me. There were hens roosted that flew into the field. Darn!!! That’s not good.

About 15-20 minutes later he finally made his way into the field about 150 yards away. He spotted the hens out in the middle of the field and went right to them. I called to him trying to deter him but to no avail. He acknowledged my presence, but as usual, he had no intention of coming.

All I could do was sit and watch him as he strutted and gobbled the hens. A fog set in at one point and I lost sight of him although I could hear him drumming. I actually entertained the thought of crawling on my belly, in the fog, and trying to close the distance for a shot. With my luck, however, I figured the fog would lift at a bad time leaving me quite exposed. I decided to stick it out.

I had a lot of time to think as I waited for something to happen. I took in the sights and the sounds around me. I could smell spring. I could hear all the other birds in song as the day continued to awake. It was as if time had stopped for me.

I reflected on previous hunts through the years. In my younger days I would have really gotten impatient and mad by now that this turkey wasn’t coming my way and I wasn’t going to get a shot. It seemed like it was all about “the kill.” The experts on hunting psychology say that is normal when you first start out hunting. I guess I’ve grown up. I actually thought this wasn’t going to happen and I really didn’t care. I was just thankful to be there.

I was brought back from my daydreaming by a gobble that sounded a bit closer. Sure enough, when I looked up, I noticed the hens were moving from my right to left. They were heading for the corner to my left that they frequently entered the woods (except when I had the blind there). The hens were well ahead of the king. As the hens passed, within what I thought was shotgun range, I held up my rangefinder to check the distance. That is when I found out that rangefinders do not work in fog!

I held my shotgun up and held the red dot on one of the hen’s necks just to see how it felt. It felt good. If the king would take the same steps they did, I might get this done.

Finally, he let down from strut and started to follow them. I guess he finally figured out they were serious about leaving the field. He moved to the spot I had put the gun on the hen. I knew this was going to be a long shot. I turned on the red dot and put it on his neck. It felt good. I slipped of the safety. I aimed like a rifle knowing that it was going to be a tough shot. I squeezed the trigger and down he went. I got up, walked a few steps towards him, and put a “backup” shot into him just for good measure. I paced off the distance and it was 50 yards. I had never shot a turkey that far.

I knew when I walked up on him that I had just killed the biggest turkey of my life. The beard was full, thick, and long. When I turned him over and saw the spurs I was awestruck. They were hooks. Later when I took him for check in he weighed in at 25 pounds, had 11.5 inch beard, and 1.5 inch spurs.

It was a perfect end to what turned out to be a perfect season. I helped two ladies, including my wife, get their first turkeys and now this. I really could have walked away that morning with nothing and been happy with life. However, to end like this was almost story book like.

There is no doubt about it. Whenever I hunt that field now, I will always remember that hunt. I will recall the thunderous gobble of the “king” and the way he majestically strutted and ruled that area.

More than that, I will remember that morning as the day that my perspectives about a lot of things matured.

My New Hunting Partner

When my youngest son Seth left for the Army last October, one of the reasons it was so hard on me was that I had lost the last of my family hunting partners. I enjoyed my times afield with Seth immensely because he is as zealous about the outdoors as I am.

Those first few times afield without him were rough! I had pretty much resigned myself to spending most of my days alone. Trying to find someone as zealous as I am is pretty difficult these days.

Last spring break, as we were on a little get-away, my wife and I started talking about hunting. She has always been very supportive of my outdoor adventures but never really showed any inclination. Her most oft used words were….”Don’t expect me to clean it!”So imagine my surprise when she said, “I wouldn’t mind killing a hog….maybe a turkey, but not a deer. They are too cute.”
So, my wheels started turning on how to get her ready for turkey season. First, a gun. I knew I did not want her shooting a 12 ga. I also knew that a gun with a red dot scope on it would be the best. I took my son’s 20 ga. and equipped it with a B-Square cantilever mount and an NcStar holographic scope.

The next step was target practice. The long story/short of this is that she is a natural. At target practice, she never missed. I felt confident that out to 40 yards she would get the job done.

We anxiously awaited the start of turkey season. It came and the weather could not have been worse. It constantly rained for the first two days of the season.

On the Wednesday that the season opened we headed out to the woods. We were hunting from a blind so once we got into the blind we would be protected from the elements. We got settled in for what turned out to be an afternoon of off and on downpours. We did see some action and in fact came close to scoring her first turkey. About an hour before dark a tom showed up and fed to the right of us about 100 yards away. I was hoping he would move our way on his way to roost. However, he instead kept directly behind us and never offered a shot. My wife was a real trooper. She sat there for 4 hours in a cold, damp downpour in less than ideal turkey hunting conditions and said she enjoyed it.

The next day we went out to my son in law’s place. The conditions were the same. We saw turkeys but none had any interests in our calls or setups.

On Friday, I took one of the girls from our Academy back out to my son in law’s. The weather had improved and so did the hunting. For the first time I laid eyes on a turkey we called “The king” (discussed later in a different blog). Taylor almost got her turkey that night. The “king”……came our way but passed by with his harem of hens just out of shotgun range.

I decided at that point to move our blind to a corner where we had seen a lot of action that evening. It turned out to be a good move.

The next day I had some obligations in the morning, so we opted for an afternoon and evening hunt. I had my eyes set on the “the king” so I knew we needed to get to the field early. My plan was to drive to the blind. I have found through the years that if there are turkeys in the field or just inside the woods, the best thing to do is drive the field……and then move into your blind. The turkeys will come back. However, if you just walk out in the field, it is likely to keep them from coming back that day.

I drove to the blind and dropped her and the equipment off. As I drove back to the area I park in I noticed a tom in the field next to us. It was not “the king” but it was nice one. Upon seeing the car he ran into the woods behind the blind. “Perfect” I thought.

I made it back to the blind. I put out a single hen decoy. After we got settled, I pulled out my I-Phone and began to look over my sermon for the next morning.

I had barely gotten into it when my wife reached around, grabbed the calf of my leg and dug her claws into it!!!!!!!! I had instructed her that if she saw something not in my field of view to just tap me on the leg. Well, by the intensity of her digging I could tell she saw more than just “something.”

I looked up and she pointed to my left. When I snuck a peak around the corner of the blind I was surprised to see standing there about 50 yards away a tom in full strut on the edge of the woods. It was probably the one I had spooked out of the other field.

I asked her if there was a hen with him and she said no. That was good. I knew he was strutting our decoy. I gave a very low, seductive series of yelps and that was it. Here he came!!

He strutted the whole way in. I told my wife she was going to have to forget about the shooting sticks and shoot the gun off-hand. Fortunately we had practiced this contingency.

Even though at one point I knew he was in range I told her to let him keep coming. He made it all the way to the decoy at about 15 yards. I had also taught her not to shoot when the turkey was looking straight at you in strut so as not to ruin the fan. We waited for him to turn. When he did I said, “Shoot him.” Boom!!! Dead!! No flop…flutter or anything. It was a perfect shot.

I knew I was going to be excited but I was thrilled to see how excited she was too. She is now officially struck with “the fever.”

It was a great turkey….a nice two year old with 10.25 inch beard and 19 lbs.

The next day she said, “When WE go deer hunting this year….” WE???????

It would appear that a bit of a void in my life that developed when Seth left has been filled. I’m looking forward to sharing more time afield with my new hunting partner!

Father's Day Reflection: The Man Nobody Knows

Today (Father’s Day) brings many mixed emotions. My middle son “Deuce” came over with his wife and fixed me one of my favorite dishes. It’s a shrimp and crab pasta. Lee/Renee and the grandkids were here. I really miss Seth…a lot. There was a definite “bare spot” with him gone. We laughed and ate and watched a movie. Then grandpa baked cookies with the grandkids. Seth called and we got to hear about his “firefighting exploits.”

During the course of the day, for some reason, “Deuce” wanted to go up in the attic and get down the memory boxes. So up he and Carrie went and down they came. There were pictures and poetry written by the kids when we homeschooled. “Deuce” got particular joy out of reading one of Seth’s old poems to him when he called.

Carrie pulled out a picture and started laughing. It was a picture of me in my full high school football uniform with my dad on Parent’s Night. I had not thought about that picture in years.

Renee started rummaging through the album the picture was in. It contained all the clippings from my high school football and baseball days. We had the short cut off jerseys that showed your mid-riff and Renee commented…”Oh to show my midriff again.” Amen sister!!!

I kept being drawn to the picture of me and my dad. No doubt about it, age does things to perspective. The way I looked at that picture and the things I saw were not what I saw 20 or 30 years ago.

Not many people know much about my dad. I have talked about my mother much more than I ever did my dad. I am sure people must wonder.

My dad died by himself on the streets of Tampa, Florida from alcoholism. When I received that phone call on a Saturday morning in October of 1992, it had been probably four years since I had seen him. They asked me if I wanted to come and claim the body and I said no. I did not want to assume the bills that would go with that. The state said they would bury him.

Harsh? Maybe. However, the man I knew as my father had actually died years before that day. Alcohol took him from me bit by bit.

I’m not going to bring up all the hurt I suffered as a child from his abuse of alcohol and all that accompanied that kind of lifestyle. I let that go a long time ago. I don’t hold it against him.

Father’s Day always brings up mixed emotions for me…..and the timing of the picture showing up today of all days cannot be ignored.

On the one hand, I am so thankful for my wonderful family and all the joy they have brought and are bringing to my life. On the other hand I see that picture and I feel robbed. I think of all that could have been.

Sometimes I think people do not understand my “passion” for hunting. I will admit it is not a “pastime.” It is a passion. I want to do it as much and as often as I can. If I’m not in the woods….I’m thinking about being in the woods.

I owe that passion to my father. The happiest days of my childhood were the days we spent in the woods. All we did was squirrel hunt but we did a lot of it. Probably 25% of my meals growing up involved squirrel. I’ll never forget my first shotgun and then my first rifle. I could take you to the very spot in Florida I shot my first squirrel. I could take you the very spot I shot my first squirrel with a rifle. I could take you to the very place my dad shot a rattlesnake I was about to step on one day. It is amazing the things I can recall. I can recall the sounds of squirrels hitting the palm trees as they moved through the swamps. I can remember sitting on logs and talking to my dad about a number of things.

I’m convinced, my love for hunting and the reason I am out there as often as I can is that it is the only link I have back to my father. As the evening sun sets in October and the coolness takes over and the sky turns red it seems like I can smell the same smells and my senses sense the same things I did so many years ago.

I wish I knew for sure I would see my dad again. I simply believe, as Abraham, that the Judge of all the earth will do what is right. Who knows but that possibly my dad in his dying cried out to the Lord for mercy. I just don’t know.

However, on this day I thank him for introducing me to the outdoors. I have tried to pass that legacy on to my children. Some are obviously more enthusiastic than the others. I do hope, that maybe after I am gone, and they decide to go afield….as the sun sets in October….the evening cool takes over….and red fills the sky….they will smell something or sense something that brings them back to fond memories of time spent in the field with their dad. The only difference being, they know we will walk together again.

I share these little insights into my life….so that people who want to….might come to know me a little more intimately than just the shell they see on the outside.

Happy Father’s Day everyone!!

"Tale of Two Goslings"

I’m not a mystic. I do not believe in mysticism nor the practice of mysticism. I wrote a paper on mysticism in graduate school and while I appreciate their goal, i.e., practicing the presence of God, I do not agree with their techniques nor the starting point of their theology.

That being said, I do believe in mystical experiences. I guess I better give my definition of such. To me, a mystical experience is the point in time where something happens that God allows you to sense His presence in your life in ways not before experienced. Usually the result of such experiences is a feeling of fear followed by peacefulness. This, by the way, was the reaction of those in the Bible who realized that they had been in the presence of God in a way they had not experienced before.

Before the time I am going to tell you about, another instance I vividly remember having one of these experiences was in December of 2009. I was deer hunting in Kansas. That morning as I walked to my blind it was very cold…..single digits with a hard, hard frost. Every step sounded like walking on rice crispies. I did not need a flashlight in the pre-dawn darkness because it was a full moon. When I arrived at my blind, I hesitated momentarily before stepping in and that is when I noticed it. All around me, everywhere I could see, things were glittering. The trees, the bushes, the ground were sparkling with a thousand lights. There is not a Mainstreet in America that could have produced that kind of Christmas light show. It was by far, one of the most dazzling, beautiful things I had ever seen. I felt like time had stopped. The silence together with the cold air sent a chill down my spine. I knew….God was there. My chill turned to a calmness and peace of spirit that is impossible for us to experience in our busy, running here and there lives. The words from Scripture, “Be still and know that I am God” came to mind. I’ll never forget it.

Now, on to my recent experience. Last Saturday my wife and I were on the way to Greenwood, Indiana. The normal way there is to take 256 into Austin…..31 to 65…and 65 North toward Indy. Done it a million times. However, when I came to the corner of 256 and 3…..I decided (with the Lord’s prompting…explained later) to take SR 3…into Seymour. I never go that way. But on this day, the Lord had something to teach me. He wanted me to walk with Him in a new way.

We had just entered into the Crosley Management area. On the left was a small pond and in the culvert on the right my wife and I saw some small birds. At first, I thought they were turkey poults. It is not uncommon to see the turkeys come to the edge of the road to grab some gravel. It helps them digest their food. Upon a closer look we saw that they were baby geese…aka….goslings. I only saw the one that appeared to be crippled, but my wife said there was another one lying down.

I paid no mind and drove on by. About a quarter mile down the road, my soft side got the best of me and I whipped the car around. We came to the spot and pulled the car over and turned on the hazard lights.

Upon further inspection we saw that it was two Canadian goslings and they were tangled together in a bird’s nest of fishing line. (Take your trash fishing line home please.) They had obviously gotten into it while swimming in the pond across the road. In returning to their nesting area…they were unable to climb the culvert embankment.

It was pathetic. They were both pulling against each other and getting nowhere. I did not have a knife so I was getting ready to use my teeth to break the line free when my wife said she had fingernail clippers in her purse. Perfect.

The first one was less tangled. Just his foot was caught. After I loosed him I asked my wife to hold onto him. I fully intended to put them back in the pond. The next one was really entangled. The line had started to cut into his leg thus causing bleeding. However, the leg was undamaged. I finally got that leg free. The line was also wrapped around his wing. While I was trying to get the wing loose, my wife lost control of the other one, and off he went. At first, I was irritated that she didn’t hold onto it…but….then we both realized he was really moving indicating he was in good shape. I finally got the other one loose….and off he took….to join his sibling. I would have liked to got them to the lake….but at least they had a chance now and they seemed to know where they going.

As we were working, two full blown Indiana red-necks pulled up beside us and asked if we were alright. I can imagine now how it must have looked. My wife standing there and me bent over in the grass. The one man said he thought I was sick so he stopped by to see what he could do. When I told him what happened, he exclaimed…”Praise the Lord!” Wow!! That hit me.

As we left, I felt really good and my time of reflection began. Three things hit me about the event.

First, notice it was the blood-thirsty hunter that stopped to help the animals. It wasn’t P.E.T.A. or some other animal rights whacko!! It was a hunter. We hunters are the true conservationist. We have a deep respect and honor for the game we pursue and do not desire unnecessary suffering for any of them.

Second, those guys stopping struck me. The Bible says in Hebrews that people have “entertained angels unaware.” Could those two guys have been some of my guardian angels? Only God knows. I just found it striking that the guy said, “Praise the Lord.” I don’t have religious symbols on my car and don’t wear them. He saw nothing to give a hint that it would impress me. It was genuine…and so out of place….in that place. That is…unless God is present.

Lastly, the Scripture in Matthew where Jesus said that God sees a sparrow when it falls came to my mind. God knew those goslings were there. And God knew I needed to learn a lesson. I don’t believe in coincidences and the longer I walk the faith….the more I know there are no such things. I was God’s man for this task.

Then, in my mind, God pushed me to remember the rest of that passage. After saying that God sees the sparrow fall, Jesus goes on to ask the rhetorical question, “Are you not more important than that sparrow?”

In these difficult financial times, it is easy to become frightened. It becomes easy to hoard and be less giving….more concerned about self survival rather than the community of faith and our financial obligations to God.

I would suggest, the next time we become a little tight fisted with God’s money, that we remember the story of two little goslings that God cared enough about one day to send a preacher, his wife, and two Indiana red-necks to meet up in the same place.

Then ask the question, “Am I not more important than these?”

Seth's Army Basic Graduation Day

Today is the day Seth graduates from Army Basic Combat Training. I’m currently sitting in a motel room just outside of Fort Jackson, South Carolina. My tremendous wife of 34 years and our daughter Renee are here with me. I know the rest of my great family is with us in thoughts and prayers. I feel the prayers of my church family surrounding me.

It is hard to believe that just eight short months ago, Seth was walking a different aisle. It was his high school graduation. It is true. Time does go faster as you get older.

I will be proud to be in attendance today. Seth has done well, including, being the top shooter in his platoon of 200. We got to see him yesterday at “Family Day” and he looks great. Like I’ve said before, he was already a good man, but the Army has made him stand taller. When he wears that uniform he is a different person. His jaw locks….his shoulders are upright…..and he walks with confidence.

Now, as proud as I will be today, I must admit, I would rather be somewhere else. What? Allow me to explain.

I really wish Seth had chosen to do something else. I wanted him to go to college. I really wanted him to be a lawyer. Those of you who never saw him in a debate really missed it. He was good!! He was quick thinking, articulate, and convincing. He was passionate.

His mom, however, told me later on, after he left for basic, that she knew I was fighting a losing battle. She knew from the time he was age nine that he would go into the Army; he as much as told her. Whenever Seth’s friends came over to play, it was required that they come in camo. He had an armory full of play guns for dispensing and there was always a “fort” built close by to prepare for battle. Jenny said she just figured she had plenty of time to talk him out of it. It didn’t happen.

What drives Seth? “Why did he go into the military” people often ask me. Well, I have a little insight into that. We have a pretty strong military tradition in our family. I had an uncle who was killed at Pearl Harbor. My father in law landed in Normandy on D-Day. I was in the Air Force.

However, that is only part of it. I asked Seth one time why he felt so passionate about this. His response is nothing short of noble. “Dad….I owe it to this country for providing me the opportunities that I have.”

That played out the day he left for Basic on Sunday, October 17th at 3:30 PM (I remember it that well). I will admit….I lost it. I hugged him and held him as tight as I had ever held him before and told him I loved him. After a minute he pulled away and said, “I gotta go Dad.” It wasn’t a “I’m late and gotta run” statement. It was a statement of moral imperative. This was something he felt he had to do.

So, who am I to stand in his way?

Another reason my wife and I don’t want to be here today, is we know where this is going. We know that eventually we will be saying goodbye for an extended period of time as he serves an overseas deployment. As one military mother told me that is when the real ache in your heart will occur.

However, who am I to expect other parents to do this and feel that mine are exempted?

So here we are today. Very proud! The ache in our hearts will be pushed down deeper. We will smile and hug and cheer.

We will let him know that as long as he chooses this course of action that his family will be his biggest fans!!

Hooah Private Gabbard!