Prairie Chicken Season and Ernie Eaton

Growing up in Grainola you have to remember Prairie Chickens and the legacy of Ernie Eaton.  Now I know Ernie and Lois would think that Connie, Nelda and Allen and all the grand and great grand kids are their legacy but for me it was those cool to cold fall days in October when Prairie Chicken season was open.

Dale's wheat storage facility which is south of the old store on highway 18

Jim and Maggie Olsen's house and before them Joe Ferguson

Two days before the season opened Grainola had 36 people who lived in the town plus any farmers and ranchers visiting Ruby's or Dale's stores.  But on the day before the season things began to change.  Cars and trucks would drive in from all over the United States and in particular they would camp around Ernie's maize fields.  Literally there would be somewhere in the neighborhood of 4,000 people move into Grainola.  Robert Kelly had a dairy on the south side of Grainola where hundreds of hunters would surround his grain fields.  Jim Olsen had hundreds more surround his maize fields.

Jim Olsen's hay barn next to the maize field where hundreds of hunters gathered

The Grainola School house where there would be Chili and Coffee

 

As daylight broke the prairie chickens would come flying in from roosting in the tall bluestem prairie grass.  They would fly in literally 6 to 15 feet off the ground and you could not see them until they were right on top of you.  Very few hunters were lucky enough to get one.  

Jim Olsen's field where there was maize.  Here are ducks and geese today.

If you were not already awake you would be shortly as you could here the guns three miles away at our house.  It went on for hours.  As I grew older I joined in the festivities.

People would be arriving all night and then parking as close they could to their favorite hunting spot.  They would shut off their head lights and try to get a little sleep before moving into the fields before sun up.  Even before that it was fun to see folks getting to know the folks in the cars and trucks next to them and sip on some coffee which was cooled down some by that time and they would snack on whatever they brought which was generally sandwiches (Bologna and cheese with mayonnaise was my favorite).  Then you would dress up as warm as you could and last thing is put on your hunting vest full of shotgun shells and grab your gun.  Then the long walk to your hunting positions.

The most magnificent site was the sun ups as you were sitting in the fields trying to stay warm.  The bright colors would begin to develop just before a hint of the sun.  You would start to hear the faint noise of the first birds to awaken, one by one the different varieties would awaken.  Meadowlarks were plentiful and generally started moving before most of the others.  This brings me to a question that always has amazed me.  Why would anyone think living in the trees is more beautiful than the sun up or the sun down?  And why would anyone think that living in the city is better than the country?  Actually I have learned to love both but the outdoors and the tall grass prairie are my favorite.

It was amazing as the birds flew in, literally hundreds of shells were shot and you could hear the BB's falling down around you.  I never knew of anyone ever getting hurt so don't worry.  The amazing thing was that hundreds of shots and hardly any birds would get hit.  The birds kept flying into the fields in waves to feed on the maize.  And of course the hunters later in the morning would start walking out into the fields to get the birds to moving out of the fields and back to the prairies.  The shooting would start all over again.

As the morning disappeared the hunters would start heading back to the cars and to town for food and rest.  They would gather at the local churches and schools or at Ruby's or Dale's to sit around the big pot bellied stoves to drink coffee and eat chili and to tell a few or listen to a few stories.

I know I did not say much about Ernie but everyone that ever hunted in Grainola knew that Ernie's place was king and he had the most hunters.  I promise to tell more stories on Ernie because he was special and a big piece of the fabric that made up the Osage.

Thanks for your time,
Gary@thepioneerman.com