Creek runner said something that touched me deeply - about the ones we used to hunt with, learn from, laugh and drink with, that aren’t with us any more. My list is getting long. My Dad, aka Crossbow Joe; his best buddy ‘Big Lee’; a great guy named Earl, are just a few.

You might mention, if you wish, the ones you miss from the campfire or the skinning tree.

Great idea--

My old neighbor Joe Norwillo-- hard old guy from PA, war vet, was like an extra grandfather to me. We would fish together in the lake behind our houses and I'd cut his grass. He was unable to hunt by the time I met him but he had great stories!!

The day he suddenly passed I couldn't handle being around the house so I went to the woods with a buddy just to get away. Ended up killing my first turkey that day and it is still mounted in my house because I know Joe was watching over me!

My dad, always. Junior, God parent and his dad. Fellow hunters that I have met on different leases.

Dad, his brother Johnny, Augustine, Joe, Tommy W., Fred, Ian, my brother Tommy, my brother Gary.

Augustine taught me how to clean deer really fast, 'cause I think he had to when he was younger.
Dad taught me a lot, but Ian taught me the most about hunting.
Fred got me to try Scotch, which may not be all good, but he was a great man of faith and saw the worst of the worst in our "Police Action" in Southeast Asia. Tommy W. could make you laugh so hard you'd blow whatever you were drinking out of your nose. And my brother Tommy was mentally handicapped, but did hunt with me a few times, was the most innocent human God ever put on this earth, and taught me what little patience I have. God's rest to them all and I'll see you all in a bit.

Never got to hunt with the gentleman but my dad and all the neighborhood kids did, Willie Roe, I remember all the stories he would tell growing up. When I started duck hunting I would carry him ducks for him and his family for a Thanksgiving gumbo and just made his day. Crazy ole Coon [censored] but a great man and story teller.

My friend from the old neighborhood growing up in Oak Cliff, Lenny. He died this year and I spread his ashes near my camp at one of the best views of sunsets and sunrises a man could ever see..........

A friend of my parents that I knew from a baby, Robert Treece. He went hunting every year, I only got to go with him twice. He always wanted his own place to hunt that he didn't have to lease, and never got it. I finally have my own place, and every time I go, I think of Robert. He would have loved to have the place I do, and I really wish he were still here to invite. I'm passing it on though....my son in law is hunting this year as will my son. Building new memories.

Lordy, this list is long and distinguished.

Daddy, of course. Not a loving or even a gentle man, but I learned a lot from him. Doc: another one of my "professors" in all things hunting and fishing. Ellis: a true gentle giant of a man. Buck; I didn't understand until I was older what a dry comedian he truly was. Rufus; both a gentleman and a tightwad but a gifted shot. Bill. Clayton. Claude.

I didn't understand when Daddy made the comment (a few years before he passed) that he wouldn't spend any more nights in camp with us. "Too many ghosts" was his reason. Thirty-five years later, I understand entirely.

Thanks guys, for giving me a lifetime of education and entertainment.

Mark

The last hunt I went on with my dad was when I was 8 years old, at a ranch in Charlotte for dove.

Life circumstances didn’t allow for that to happen. He passed on in 2010.

His mind would have been blown to see the places I hunt and the things I’ve killed.

My Dad and all of his old German friends...
They knew how to have a good time, tell good jokes and drink beer and loved to hunt. Dad would take me out of school on Thursdays to go on "day hunts" for the weekend his friends had arranged in West Texas or South Texas. The things a 12 year old boy learned on those hunts and the stories he heard made a lasting impression on a youthful mind. Not always good but memorable to say the least. We did these hunts together until my 20's and I enjoyed everyone. All of these guys are gone now but my memories aren't. In Dad's later years in his 90's, I was able to take him to a cousin's ranch in South Texas and he would get to hunt there for several more years. We enjoyed our time together and I felt like it was my turn to repay the favor. He passed at 99 and was active until about 95. I miss him and all of those old guys. God bless them.

Think of them often. Ain't gonna lie, things have gotten blurry more times than I'd like to admit staring out the window of a deer blind remembering them. I'd give almost anything for one more day spent in the woods with my Dad and my brothers, just one more pot of my Mom's deer chili. Gone way too soon. My kids were never able to meet them, but I tell them plenty of stories about our hunting and fishing trips and some of the good times we shared. I thank God for the gift of life, and grateful that I'm able to make memories with my kids. My youngest Son killed his first deer last year, I couldn't help but think of them and look up and grin.

My Brother. Cancer got him about 7 or 8 years ago.

And, then there are the kids that I got into hunting/fishing/outdoors. They now have their own lives and are busy making those lives.

But; one big thing. A Granddaughter, 18 years old, is home from basic training in the USN for a week before heading to Japan. She wants to go deer hunting which she has never done. We will leave later today.

That’s awesome Dave....