Deer Hunting and Missing my Dad

[Slappy]

When I was 8 years old, my dad took me on my first hunt.  The excitement was killing me.  I put on 3 or 4 pairs of pajamas and then my Camo over them.  Dad told me deer are alerted to the color white, so I made sure not to even put on white underwear.  He thought that was pretty great.   He put his Amacker climbing stand on his back and grabbed his Sporterized Springfield 30-06.  I grabbed my Daisy BB gun and off we went into the woods of Mississippi.  I didn't know that Dad didn't know what he was doing.  His previous deer hunting experiences were in Texas as a kid, which was a long time before and pretty different than the style of hunting in Mississippi.  To me, he was the best deer hunter in the world and I was just elated to be with him.  He was a tall man at 6' 5", attached his climbing stand to a tree and helped me climb into it.  Below me at the base of the same tree, he sat down in the leaves and thats where we were for the next 2 or 3 hours. I was as high on life as an 8 year old kid could be.  I remember being so quiet, so focused and praying so hard to see a deer.  We both got skunked that day having not seen any deer but I was so hooked and couldn't wait to tell mom how our hunt went. 

 

I didn't hunt again until the next deer season when I was 9 years old.  Same routine, 3-4 pairs of pajamas, no white underwear, then Camo but this time instead of my Daisy I had a a Remington 722 in .222 Remington.  This gun was a gun my grand dad bought in Texas to use at his ranch.  My grand dad took countless deer and coyotes with this gun but what meant more to me than that was this gun was the gun my dad used to kill his first deer with when he was a kid.  All my dad's 3 siblings also used this to kill their first deer. This gun had a long legacy of being a whitetail hammer.  This time, we were setup in the woods on an old logging road in a box blind on one of his friends properties.  It was a small blind and I was sitting in his lap the whole time.  This time, concentrating on being quit, focused and again praying non stop to see a deer sapped all my energy.  Having given up hope, I rested the gun barrel and the buttstock on 2 window seals and rested my head on the underside of the gun and went to sleep.  

 

The next thing I know, dad is shaking me saying "wake up! theres a deer! wake up!"  I open my eyes and see 2 big doe about 50 yards out.  I grab my gun, and in the process we got busted.  Those deer blew at us and stomped at us, then took off.  Oh man I was so disappointed but my dad said, keep watching son, deer will to circle back around. Sure enough they circled back around and were crossing the logging road about 120 yards away at this point. I got behind the gun and was looking so hard to find them through the scope, scanning with the gun all over but only seeing trees.  Dad said, look up with your eyes and dont try to find them with the scope!  So I look up, see them, now I'm on them.  I clearly remember seeing my crosshairs bounce from the bottom of the kill zone to the top of her spine, up and down, up and down trying to keep it steady.  I squeezed the trigger and she dropped in her tracks.  Man, I started screaming with excitement, dad was celebrating with me and I took off down that ladder so fast with dad yelling at me to slow down and to not fall.   We ran up to her and she was still alive but not able to move much.  I had hit her in the spine.  So dad took out his Dan Wesson .357 Magnum revolver with an 8" barrel and finished her off.  He dipped his fingers into her blood and wiped it on my face.  

 

This started my love for all things outdoors with my dad.  I started tagging  out nearly every year on doe but eventually, I wanted a buck. Dad said the first buck I shoot, we will get mounted.  As a kid I passed on a few smaller 4pt bucks because I wanted something BIG.  It was hard being 11 and 12 years old and passing on these 4 points but I knew what I wanted and knew it would eventually happen.   I spent a few seasons hunting separately from my dad.  I was a very responsible kid with guns and using tree stands.  Dad taught me to be safe and I never broke the rules.  Eventually that buck would happen. And just like my first deer, dad and I happened to be hunting in another box blind together when I tagged my 8 point.  He was so proud.

 

Dad always told me that he wanted me to take him hunting when he got old and I was looking forward to the opportunity to return the favor.  On my birthday in 2019, dad went to the hospital with what they thought were stroke symptoms.  He was an exceedingly healthy man so it seemed unusual but for the previous few months we also noticed my dad's personality and his way with words were changing.  We thought it was just work stress and didn't think for a second it was because he'd be diagnosed with a brain tumor.  He had surgery and was given 6 months to live.  He appealed to his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for additional time and thankfully lived another 4 and a half years.  As promised, I took dad hunting. It wasn't as much as we would have wanted because I was busy with raising my family but those hunts and fishing trips we did together were very special.  

 

Last fall my dad was told his cancer had come back and was inoperable.  I never got another opportunity to take him hunting again because his health had declined so rapidly and he went to be with Jesus December 27th.  What a crushing blow.  Eternally thankful for the extra time but you can never be fully prepared to lose your best friend. Some of his last words to me was that he was proud of me.  Words that I have heard him say many times before in my life.  I told him there wasn't a day that I didn't already know that. 

 

So this deer season hits different.  And it sucks, so bad. I almost didn't go last weekend because the grief was just hitting so hard. Growing up, I always wanted those heirloom 30-06 and .222 rifles in my safe and now seeing them in there, I hate I cant give them back.  Now I have my own kids and my middle son (6) has just started begging me to take him hunting just as I did my dad.  When he is ready, or any of my other kids are, they will have that .222 in their hands and continue on the legacy of really great man.  

 

 

[Nikiski Dave]

I feel for you. Lost my brother/best friend and hunting buddy on Thanksgiving 4 years ago.

[pop pop]

I too have many fond memories of hunting and fishing with my dad and his friends. Sorry for your loss Slappy and Dave. Lost my dad in 1991. The pain of loss gets better with time, if that is of any comfort.