| Uncle! | |
|
||
|
||
As many of you know, one of my favorite books of all time is The Old man and The Boy, by Robert Ruark. One of the observations he made therein concerning his raising was that he was surrounded by many rough-and-tumble men, some of them blood kin and others simply honorary uncles. Those men never made him feel like a kid, even though he was many years their junior -- and there's something special about men that treat a boy as their equal. Ruark was dead right on that score. I know this from experience.
I started hunting when I was around nine years of age. Dad took time out from his "serious" hunting to tote me to the woods and teach me what was what. In the woods, I was a hunter and a friend. Of course, I had to carry my weight and then some, especially as a junior member of the hunting party, but I figured that went with the territory. I was a man in a man's world, and that means everything to a young boy, just as it does to this now-grown man who can look back at his youth with a smile.
I hunted some with a couple of my uncles. During those early years, we took a few trips with Uncle Kelly and his son, my cousin David. Those were good times, and all too few. I spent more time with Uncle Dick and Aunt Dee (my deer-hunting aunt) as the years passed, and they too were great times. Talking over the hunts around the table in the old Hog Pen (the house trailer we used as a camp) is a very fond memory of mine. We were allies, equals, friends, and shared hunting as a common denominator that facilitated that kind of easy relationship.
I also have some uncles who haven't hunted in many years, but still they did me good as a growing young 'un. When we visited with each other at family gatherings, our conversations were filled with mutual respect, and often with talk about my favorite subject -- hunting, of course! They gave me their respect and admiration, which I returned in kind.
Over the years, Uncle Jimmy has given me some of his old hunting things, and with Dad's generous help I bought his Model 19 Smith & Wesson 357 Magnum revolver, which I still own and treasure, and once used to dispatch a buck that didn't want to die. He also gave me a Case Mako hunting knife, which I have used on many a buck. I now own Uncle Dick's Ruger Super Blackhawk 44 Magnum revolver, which he was talking about selling to a gun shop at the time.
Uncle Earl gave me a very nice limited-edition Boker knife, which I have used to butcher several deer, as well as his encouragement regarding hunting and life in general. Uncle Walt gave me his attention whenever we talked, his support when I dreamily mentioned as a teen that I wanted to be a writer, and his continued encouragement about the quality of my writing, along with occasional notes and clippings in the mail which always bring a smile to my face.
Then there's my "non-related" uncles, namely Art and Richard, and early on, Don. They were my hunting buddies when I started deer hunting at age thirteen, and they too never treated me as a child, even at times when I'm sure I deserved to be. Art was there a few years later when I got my first buck in an area he'd pointed me toward, and the handshake and simple "Thanks" that passed between us on that day still warm my heart. I shot that deer and several others using a tree stand that Art gave me after my first hunting season. When that stand was stolen, he gave me another!
Richard has become one of my best friends, despite the age difference (he's sixteen years my senior), and like the others, he was helpful and supportive when I was just learning the ropes. Don was the oldest of this group, another voice of support and encouragement, and somehow he managed to talk me into eating my green beans when nobody else in the world could! I still love my green beans.
These are just a few examples of the ties I share with these men, who didn't have to give me their help and encouragement, but did anyway. Aunt Dee is the obvious exception to the term "men" in the preceding statement -- but she's long been a friend and confidant, as well as a fellow hunter (huntress?). I owe them all a great debt of gratitude, and this is one way of honoring them and their contributions to my raising in the woods, which would have been much poorer without them.
We lost Uncle Kelly several years ago, so I'll never again share a joke with him around a campfire or get to tell him thanks, at least not here on Earth. But I did get a chance to thank him before he left us... several years before, in fact. That note was something very special to him, I know. I hope all of those still here in this world realize how special they are, what they contributed, and how much it all still means to this boy.
- Russ Chastain
