Brian, loved the old trapping pics. Those are badass.
JPN, killing a deer with the same gun as your Grandpa is also badass!!
This thread, thinking about fishing and gardening made me remember this classic with my Grandpa, Great-Grandpa, Dad, and Uncle Ray cleaning walleye while I helped Grandma tend to the garden. These are the people who shaped and molded me...
I used to have a path beat down in that field behind the garden which took me to the woods. Lots of time was spent with my grandparents growing up. I can remember waking up early to have breakfast with grandpa before he went to work. While he was gone I'd help grandma with whatever needed done and then I'd just be outside wandering around.
The woods had a creek running through them and that always kept me busy. Building dams, catching crayfish, frogs and snakes. Anything I could do to get muddy and be around critters. I can remember sneaking up on a doe and her fawn accidentally one time as they were getting a drink from the creek. I spotted them from maybe 50 yards away and slowly snuck as close as I could get to them. The hunting gene was active even before I knew it! I feel so fortunate to have been able to grow up in that environment.
My waterfowling interest (or obsession) was undoubtedly my destiny long before I was ever a figment in either of my parents’ minds.
My maternal grandfather (right) and great-grandfather (left), circa 1950’s...
Grandfather (right) and great-grandfather (center) - 1967
Gramps, sometime in the early 60’s maybe?
Cool little fact... my grandfather only had one eye. He took a pellet gun to school as a young kid and accidentally shot his eye out. He then shot right-handed, with only having a left eye, and according to local legend he was one of the best shots in this zip code. He was also asked to play catcher for a Chicago White Sox minor league team, however was dismissed when it was discovered he only had one eye.
Much to his detriment, my grandfather was also an alcoholic and he loved to fight. So he was well-known around all the local watering holes. At one time, one bar held a contest titled “Who can tell the biggest lie?” After a bar room full of drunks told their amusing stories, they all looked to my grandfather and said, “Hey Artie... tell us a story!” His response, “I ain’t never told a fuckin lie a day in my life!”