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!
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!!
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?”
