My First Hunt

I mentioned in a previous article that my dad was no avid hunter, but he was a hunter to say the least. So when I became of age my dad enrolled me into the Tennessee Wildlife Hunter's Safety course. This was a pretty exciting time for a kid because the warrior inside was putting down his fake guns with the bright orange tips and picking up a real weapon. It was my first step to manhood. It was also another opportunity to spend quality time with my dad, something in my opinion every kid needs. I remember trying harder to take in as much information as possible, than I would in my typical school setting only because I wanted to make my dad proud that I passed.

Dad joined a group of local firefighters who had a cabin in Henderson TN. This cabin set the backdrop for what was to be the best hunting trip ever. The cabin was a pretty good size, but you could tell it was built for a "mans" environment. It had a foyer with an exploding spring couch, and muddy wet boots lining the wall. There was a grand living room area with an out of tuned piano, four or five lazy boys, and other couches scattered about the room. In the back were two bedrooms each having three sets of bunk beds. And of course there was the kitchen. The weekend of the hunt there were about eight to ten other guys, all firefighters. They were all laughing and telling jokes that were way over my head, but yet I laughed to seem interested in the conversation. The food these guys cooked up was unbelievable. You have to remember these were all firefighters so great cooking came with the territory. I discovered that weekend that Louisiana hot sauce goes with everything.

Early the next morning dad got me up, got dressed, and out the door. It was so dark I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, but still dad seemed to know the layout of the land like he had been there his whole life. We got to our spot and he put me up in a tree. He told me to not make any moves, and listen to the nature around me. There were turkey everywhere and all caused a ruckus. Every sound had my attention, and every move had me squinting in the darkness. My imagination was putting in some serious overtime. I sat in that stand for what felt like days. Later in the morning dad made his way back over to me and asked me to come down. He and I walked back to a brush in a field where he had thought he had seen some activity earlier. Dad whispered "Ok there are three deer in that brush". I couldn't see them but I took his word for it. Dad went on "now take the safety off but do not pull back the hammer". My little heart was pounding like a freight train. Just then the three deer all jumped out at once and starting running off in different directions. Dad hollered "TAKE YOUR SHOT"! I did just that. I pulled my 30/30 up and fired off a beautiful John Wayne hip shot, and of course missed. My dad pulled up his rifle and fired off a shot but the distance had grown between us and the deer and he missed as well. After the deer had cleared dad looked down at me and gave me a grin that could only be understood between a father and son. Something in between a “what were you thinking” and “that’s my boy”.

That was the only game we would see for the rest of the day, but that weekend is branded in my mind of feeling like "one of the guys" with my dad. I was a 10 year old doing "man stuff" and it felt good.

-Steve Childress