Making Papaw Proud

I started my career with the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency managing a hunter education and range facility. I already knew I loved engaging the public about wildlife but it was here where my passion for mentoring kids grew. Considering the shooting range I managed only drew in a handful of customers per week, I dove in headfirst and focused my efforts on teaching hunter education. Love and respect of the outdoors is near and dear to me and if I had any influence in a child's life to develop that similar respect, that was what I was going to do.

Teaching hunter education to a few thousand kids per year one would think all the kids blend together. One is wrong. So many individuals stand out, it makes me smile thinking I may have had a positive influence in their lives. But here's the thing, I have no doubt that in some instances those experiences touched my life more so than I touched theirs. Some of their stories have become etched into the framework of who I have become today and for that, I am grateful. One such experience involved a boy named "Ronnie". Here is Ronnie's story…

**************

Hunter education classes max out each year in late summer and early fall in preparation for the upcoming hunting seasons. Classes tend to get quite large, often in excess of fifty students, which is far more than I like but demand for these classes often outweighs situations I consider ideal. In classes so large I like to give the kids incentives to stay focused since one-on-one instruction is often not possible. One such incentive was to offer the kids a potential once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and that was to go hunting with ME.

Before anyone begins to think my head has grown beyond the capacity for my neck to support it, it hasn't. What I quickly learned living and teaching in the outskirts of Memphis was that folks come from all walks of life, from insanely well-off to the other end of the spectrum. The ones we often turn a blind eye to. The kids who don't get the chances we often take for granted. The chance to get outside and realize the world is yours for the taking. These were the kids I tried to focus on.

The plan was to teach the kids about, not just gun safety, but about living a life that respected nature as much as anything else they held dear. In doing so, they would be gifted something that would always be there for them and could never be taken away...the love of the outdoors. Simply put, by loving nature and the outdoors, they were given a chance to get away and forget any trouble that may fester in their lives.

So...I tried my best to offer them that chance.

The challenge was simple. Sit through my class, pay attention, participate, and when all was said and done, tell me what drives you to go hunting. Yes it was a dreaded essay.

Fear not though. This essay was not graded on grammar or spelling or clearness of thought. Rather, it was graded on need. It was quite evident reading the responses given which kids in my class were going to enjoy a life in the outdoors and which kids were not going to have much of an opportunity to do so. I read many essays that began, "One time while hunting with my Dad..." Though I enjoyed reading about those adventures, they were neatly placed in an ever-growing pile.

The other pile, was reserved for the essays that began on a much more solemn note. They often began with the likes of "I don't have a Dad but my papaw likes to hunt." Fortunately this pool was quite small so it made the selection of the "winning" essays much easier.

So in essence I should rephrase the grand prize for the essay contest...it was an opportunity TO GO HUNTING with me.

And truth be told we had about 4-5 other "guides", all employees of the TN Wildlife Resources Agency, so we were able to offer that opportunity to multiple kids each year.

************

Ronnie's Story

I had gotten to know a boy named Ronnie who lived in a humble home not far from where I resided in rural West TN...smack dab in the land of cotton. He was fourteen at the time, a bit older than most kids who took my class, but still a child in the eyes of many. From his writing I could see his future was already laid out, and it was one that was pre-determined rather than one that was chosen. Within a few years, if he was lucky, he would be able to graduate from high school but more than likely he would end up working on a farm trying to make ends meet. This wasn't going to be a family-owned farm either. For according to the essay, his dad worked two jobs and "...didn't really have much time to take him hunting, but it's something his Dad and Papaw loved to do when they were young. So that is why I want to go hunting."

Let me clarify by saying, I was blessed to know his dad and this story, by no means, is this a knock against him. He was one of the hardest working guys I ever knew and he did whatever he could to support his family. Unfortunately this often meant working while the sun was still shining, leaving little, if any, time for outdoor activities.

Needless to say...the deal was sealed. I was going to take Ronnie on his first-ever deer hunt.

************

I arrived at Ronnies house shortly before 3:30 am. This would give us enough time to drive out to the farm where we would be hunting and rendezvous with the three other hunters and their guides. It would also give us time to go over the ground rules with the landowner.

The light on Ronnies front porch flicked on as I pulled into the driveway. I shutoff the engine on the F-150 pick-up truck and walked up the worn-out steps to the front door. His dad greeted me in an instant, his top half silhouetted in the dented and scratched metal screen door.

"Hey I really appreciate you doing this for Ronnie. You have no idea how much this means to him and me."

The door creaked open on its hinges as he gestured me to come inside.

Though most of the house was still engulfed in darkness, the tiny light above the kitchen sink cast enough rays on Ronnie's dad to tell me something was deeply amiss. His eyes were heavily bloodshot and his nose glowed a warm shade of red. It looked as if he never went to bed and truth be told...he looked a mess.

I feared the worse.

"Ronnies getting his stuff out of the garage. He's been looking forward to this for three weeks now."

I looked at him, not knowing how to react. Needless to say, never knowing him to drink, I was extremely disappointed.

Before I could question him or even smell what I suspected...he motioned me to the living room in case Ronnie entered the kitchen unexpectedly.

He put his arm around me.

His eyes began to tear up.

"Listen," he said. "I got a phone call a few hours ago and found out that Ronnie's Papaw had passed away late last night. I don't want to tell him just yet because he is so very close to his Papaw and he's been looking forward to this hunt more than anything. Can you do me a favor and not tell him just yet? I want him so badly to have a good day today."

I was floored.

A lump immediately formed in my throat and I instinctively hated myself more than ever, for here I was, quick to judge a man for his selfish actions and instead he tells me his father had just died and he wants me to make sure his son has a good day.

I felt like a fool.

I gave him one of those awkward man hugs and assured him I would 'try my best'.

I can't say for certain but if I were to guess, I believe my eyes and nose were probably looking similar to his at that point.

At that moment Ronnie burst forth from the garage...gun, gear, and huge smile in hand.

I collected myself as quickly as I could.

"You ready to go?" I said calmly.

"Yes sir! Couldn't hardly sleep last night I'm so excited!" was Ronnie's eager reply.

He gave his dad a big hug and said, "Wish me luck dad!"

I had to walk out and act busy. As I loaded his ramshackle gear into the back of my truck all that was going through my mind was, "God, please...please make this a good day."

************

We arrived at the farm about an hour before first light.

The landowner, who graciously donated his property for this special hunt, wanted to meet each and every child and to go over some of the "farm rules" he would like for each of the kids to follow. Obviously myself and the other guides were going to try to teach the kids respect for the land but it is always an added bonus when you can put a face to who they may be hurting should they every act in a disrespectful way. As you could imagine the kids didn't disappoint and were acting on their best behavior. "Yes sir and no sir," followed each and every question and Ronnie, being the oldest, was of course leading the way.

Just before we were ready to strike out, the landowner gave one last request. "Try not to shoot any really young deer. I want to give them a chance to grow up."

"Yes sir," said Ronnie. "No young ones."

************

As we sat in the tree stand that morning, Mother Nature did not disappoint. She put on her usual glorious display of sights and sounds that always freshens the weary soul. Though the sunrise is usually enough to erase all worries, all I could think about that morning was what lay in store for Ronnie at the conclusion of our hunt. So much for today being a 'good day' for him.

Hours passed and nothing showed.

My heart sank, especially for Ronnie.

He tried to stay positive but as most hunters know, the higher the sun gets in the morning the less likely deer are to be moving.

It was now almost 10:00 am and I could see the excitement of today's hunt waning in his face.

Suddenly he perked.

A deer had quietly stepped out into the clearing about a hundred yards out.

Now my heart began to race.

It looked to be a small doe. Probably one or two years old but definitely not mature.

I instructed him to raise his gun and find the deer in his scope.

He did exactly as I instructed.

I could hear his breathing quicken and could see a slight tremble in the barrel of his gun. I told him to relax, take the safety off, and slowly pull the trigger whenever he was ready.

He exhaled unsteadily and slid the safety off.

He took a deep breath and I instinctively covered my ears anticipating the report.

A few seconds passed...then a few more.

Then without even looking to me for advice he slid the safety back on.

"That deer is too young. I better not shoot."

Once again I was floored. Here he was, a young boy on his first ever deer hunt, given the green light to kill his first deer, but passing up that opportunity because of a shadow of a doubt that wasn't the "right thing to do".

And in the blink of an eye, the deer disappeared.

I was so darn proud of him.

Though the deer would have been plenty big enough, he put someone else's desires in front of his own. His dad too would have been proud.

Within about an hour it would be lunch time and the morning hunt would soon conclude. Though the morning didn't pan out as I had hoped, at least Ronnie would have a good story to share with his dad on this day.

Just as the morning sun was about to declare high noon Ronnie once again perked up, his eyes widening. Three large does made an unexpected appearance on the far end of the field. They began an immediate trot heading in our general direction.

I immediately gave the order to Ronnie to get the gun up and put the crosshairs on the lead doe. There was no time to get nervous. I told him as soon as I whistled and the deer stopped..."you pull the trigger."

It was as if it was a well rehearsed moment.

I whistled.

Deer stopped.

Loud report erupted from the end of the rifle.

The lead doe dropped in her tracks.

There was a moment of silence then a loud "Yesssssss!!!!"

"OMGosh...I did it sir!"

Yes… He was still calling me sir!

If you could have seen the excitement in his eyes after realizing he had just taken his first deer...it truly was priceless and I moment I will never forget.

************

I instructed Ronnie to begin gathering his things. As he did so, I called his dad to tell him the good news. Hoping to provide a little joy in an otherwise hellish day for his dad I asked if he would like to meet us at the farmhouse to help with his son's deer. Surprisingly enough he agreed to do so. He probably wanted and needed the respite as much as anyone.

By the time we got the deer loaded onto the ATV and hauled it back to the farmhouse Ronnie's father was just pulling into the drive. His dad barely got out of the truck when his son jumped into his arms and gave him a great big hug. He was so proud of what he had done and he could not wait to share the story with his dad.

As happy as the event could have been I could see that his dad was still struggling with the passing of his father, and most importantly, his son's papaw earlier that morning.

As his son and a few others worked on hoisting the deer so they could begin the process of field dressing it, his father walked over to me and shook my hand. I cut him off before he could even begin to thank me. I needed no thanks. It was my honor and my pleasure.

He smiled and gave me an unspoken thank you.

I told him to go help his son.

He walked over to his son and again gave him a great big hug. As soon as they separated Ronnie's dad began pulling out his pocket knife to begin the process of skinning the deer.

With the joyous pitch of a proud and excited child Ronnie yelled, "Put that knife away Dad! Let's use Papaw's knife! He's going to be so proud of this when he sees it!"

At that moment Ronnie's dad's knees buckled and with that, so did mine and the tears began to flow.

************

A few days later I attended the funeral for Ronnie's Papaw. Although it was a sad day Ronnie and his dad continued to thank me. I insisted there was nothing special in what we did. That was when Ronnie's father told me, "You gotta understand...you gave me one of the greatest gifts I ever could have asked for. You gave me the perfect way to break the news to Ronnie of his Papaw's passing." he said. "That night after the hunt, we sat down at the dinner table and I told him, Papaw was up in the stand with you today Ronnie."

I guarantee Ronnie made Papaw proud.