It All Began There

I remember the longing like it was yesterday. As a young child, I desired to go to the woods and learn the ways of the hunter. It was deep inside me busting to come out.  I thought in my own mind that I had to learn to clean a rabbit in order to be a man.

I sought out people who had some resemblance of hunting in their life.  There were many, but one that continually sticks out in my mind was a neighbor two houses down from where I lived.  His name was Mr. Sheeps.  He had retired to Florida from up north and had been in Florida longer than I was old.  He was a man that stayed to himself much of the time working in his yard and a few times grouching at us kids. He had two beagles next to his house in a well made kennel. His dogs were graying older dogs that barely barked when I would approach.

One day, as he was working in his yard, I got the courage to approach him alone and ask him if he hunted.  His reply was slow as he raised his head to look me in the eye.  His reply was, “Why do you want to know about that?” So I told him I was interested and wanted someday to do it.  He told me to come back around 3:00pm and he would talk to me about it.  That was the longest 4 hours of my summer vacation.

At 3:00pm on the dot, I was on his door step waiting. He came out of the house and we sat on the carport ledge.  In his hand was a stack of pictures. Over his arm was a tanned deer hide with a bullet hole in it.  Many of the pictures were old black and whites and a few faded color ones mixed in.  I absorbed every picture.  Deer across the car hood, deer in the back of a truck, many deer hanging from a tree, rabbits lined side by side with hunters behind them and so much more.  I felt the hid as I listen to every story, every word as if I lived the adventure myself.  Time had past that afternoon – way to fast.  Mr. Sheeps said he had to go, but before we said good by he turned to me and told me to stop by behind his house tomorrow and look on top of his trash cans.  There would be some magazines tied together and they would be for me. 

"goin fishin after school"

I got the news today that Jacob had died. 17 year-old reflexes, a 4800 pound SUV, and a split-second decision intersected resulting in irreversible consequences and grieving families. My first reaction was, “Oh man, not again.” It seems too common for the young to leave us - unrealized potential, unfulfilled dreams. With tears I struggled through questions and immediately a memory surfaced, crystal clear, of my first “real” encounter with Jacob.

It was November 2002 and we were at the Sportsmen for Christ Thanksgiving Turkey Shoot. I noticed him as soon as he got out of his dad’s car. Nine, maybe ten years old, he was about to bust with excitement. Excited to be there with his Daddy, excited to be “one of the guys,” excited about the gun case containing HIS .410, excited to win the big prize. I liked him already!

He sort of reminded me of a banty rooster. I’m not sure if Jacob had fired a gun before but he knew, knew, KNEW that he was going to win. He walked up to the line, took careful aim, breathed a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. The barrel of his little .410 barked and a load of #7’s pelted the target. He turned around with a smug, no, it was more dopey than smug, grin on his face and strutted, yes “strutted,” back over to his daddy. I really like that kid!

Several other people shot and I walked down to view the results. Sure enough, the target in lane 1, Jacob’s target, had the best score and he won round one.

We proceeded through three rounds. Jacob would walk up to the line, shoulder his shotgun, peer down the barrel at the site and shoot. Each time he finished at or near the top of the heap. At the end of the day Jacob claimed 1st place. The memory of him, smile larger than life, hefting that turkey, nearly as big as him will forever be burned in my mind. I loved that kid!

After I heard the news I logged onto Facebook and checked out Jacob’s page. His last entry said, “…goin fishing after school.” He never made it to the lake on Friday….

RIP JFN!