Russell Whiles shares with us the following story:
Gary, I was reading back through some of your older stories, and came across the one where you told of accidentally shooting the beautiful cardinal. I can relate to that kind of circumstance precisely! So, if I tell my story, it will be sort of like Misery Loves Company...maybe just confessing makes the heart a bit lighter.
One of the cool guns my dad let me use was an old .22 Remington Model 12 pump action, with an octagon barrel. I still have it, and use it regularly. It has a tiny little scope, and is sighted in the same as it always has been. As a kid, I was busting black walnuts out of the tree at the far north end of camp 32.
Most of us grew up knowing that it was not cool to shoot the big raptors...hawks, eagles, and the like. However, one of those "impossible" shots presented itself to me, and I was confident enough that the shot couldn't be done, could not possibly connect, and I fired! The hawk was perched on a utility pole FAR out in the pasture, northwest of our house, probably 300 yards (just guessing). My cross-hairs centered way high, above the hawk, and the rifle cracked as I squeezed the trigger. There was a moment of pause, and relief, as the hawk left it's perch, soared kind of in a spiral way high up in the sky, and then it dropped like a rock!
My stomach turned, panic set in, and I think it was a youthful cardiac event! Somehow, I survived it. Boy, you talk about remorse and feeling bad! Well, I learned a little more about what guns are capable of. As kids, we enjoyed a LOT of exhilarating shooting events, mostly with our dads, but a few on our own. One of my good memories was trap-shooting with the adults...at about twelve years old. Throwing singles, I broke ten clay pigeons in a row, and was on Cloud Nine, there among the big guys!
I mentioned black walnuts earlier. Mostly, harvesting black walnuts and getting to the "meats" inside is quite a tedious and messy thing. Folks have tried many approaches. I can recall picking up the walnuts after they drop and bringing home brown paper bags full, then spreading them on the gravel drive way. Driving over them for several days loosens and crushes the soft hulls, which will stain the skin if one should handle them without gloves. Cracking the HARD shells...we did it by hitting the walnut with a hammer on a brick down inside a paper bag, to contain the shrapnel! And then the FUN begins. Picking out the meats from the nooks and crannies...remember the sharp little Picks with the crooked end? That's the tedious part, but OH, the rewards! Walnuts in homemade ice cream, fresh warm banana bread...that's what it's all about!
Now what do you learn in the Osage?
Gary, I was reading back through some of your older stories, and came across the one where you told of accidentally shooting the beautiful cardinal. I can relate to that kind of circumstance precisely! So, if I tell my story, it will be sort of like Misery Loves Company...maybe just confessing makes the heart a bit lighter.
One of the cool guns my dad let me use was an old .22 Remington Model 12 pump action, with an octagon barrel. I still have it, and use it regularly. It has a tiny little scope, and is sighted in the same as it always has been. As a kid, I was busting black walnuts out of the tree at the far north end of camp 32.
Most of us grew up knowing that it was not cool to shoot the big raptors...hawks, eagles, and the like. However, one of those "impossible" shots presented itself to me, and I was confident enough that the shot couldn't be done, could not possibly connect, and I fired! The hawk was perched on a utility pole FAR out in the pasture, northwest of our house, probably 300 yards (just guessing). My cross-hairs centered way high, above the hawk, and the rifle cracked as I squeezed the trigger. There was a moment of pause, and relief, as the hawk left it's perch, soared kind of in a spiral way high up in the sky, and then it dropped like a rock!
My stomach turned, panic set in, and I think it was a youthful cardiac event! Somehow, I survived it. Boy, you talk about remorse and feeling bad! Well, I learned a little more about what guns are capable of. As kids, we enjoyed a LOT of exhilarating shooting events, mostly with our dads, but a few on our own. One of my good memories was trap-shooting with the adults...at about twelve years old. Throwing singles, I broke ten clay pigeons in a row, and was on Cloud Nine, there among the big guys!
I mentioned black walnuts earlier. Mostly, harvesting black walnuts and getting to the "meats" inside is quite a tedious and messy thing. Folks have tried many approaches. I can recall picking up the walnuts after they drop and bringing home brown paper bags full, then spreading them on the gravel drive way. Driving over them for several days loosens and crushes the soft hulls, which will stain the skin if one should handle them without gloves. Cracking the HARD shells...we did it by hitting the walnut with a hammer on a brick down inside a paper bag, to contain the shrapnel! And then the FUN begins. Picking out the meats from the nooks and crannies...remember the sharp little Picks with the crooked end? That's the tedious part, but OH, the rewards! Walnuts in homemade ice cream, fresh warm banana bread...that's what it's all about!
Now what do you learn in the Osage?
- Walnuts are like life - it takes a lot of work but that is what makes it so rewarding and you may get stained a little or a lot on the journey
- Boys are different than girls - have you ever heard of a girl doing something stupid like shooting at a hawk or red bird?
- Life lessons can be tragic (like the hawk) but if you never have an opportunity to learn by experience you are like a congressman who never ran a business trying to pass laws WITHOUT HURTING FREE ENTERPRISE - and yes this is a political opinion
- If you have an opinion about politics and what is going on do something, write, call, email your representative else the only people they hear from are the extremes and those who have lobbyist.
This is what is GREAT about America and folks from the Osage are several notches above the best. And yes we are a proud bunch.
Thanks for your time,
1 comment:
I love the way this story brought out the "Hawk" in you, Sir!..or, maybe it was more the American Bald Eagle making its appearance! Good and significant commentary, Gary!
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