MY FIRST "SPRING" TURKEY

[catdaddy]

I can remember my first spring gobbler very well. I had killed several turkeys as a boy while I was squirrel hunting or deer hunting. Back in those days, killing a turkey in this manner was totally acceptable, well, at least to my small world of acquaintances. Sometime in the early 80's I made a decision to be a bona fide turkey hunter. I was already a skilled hunter, so the progressive step on to turkey hunting was not that high for me. I bought a Preston Pittman single reed mouth call and after a couple of days of effort filled squeaks and squawks, I gradually begin to sound like a hen turkey. I then bought Primos True Double and liked it a lot better. At the time, the only shotgun I owned a Smith & Wesson 12 gauge shotgun with a 28 inch modified barrel. I was so broke when I bought this gun that I had to take out a small loan from the bank to buy it and had to get my uncle to co-sign on the note. I carefully applied a roll of vinyl camo tape to the S&W to make it a sho-nuf turkey gun--I thought it looked cool! My brother gave me a box of 3 inch #4 lead Winchester shells that he used to duck hunt with when lead was still legal. This set up sounds ineffective compared to what most avid turkey hunters use now days--but I'll tell you this---for the next 5 years, the S&W with #4 3 inch duck shells was responsible for the demise of many a gobbler. I took to turkey hunting almost immediately—almost like I was born to do it----maybe I was.

When I was younger, I sowed some wild oats for sure. I am not necessarily proud of it; I simply consider it to be part of my life experience. So, it should not be to much a surprise to learn that the night before I killed my first gobbler, I had been up basically all night. I drove down from Memphis TN to Jackson MS on Friday afternoon to meet up with my best friend George. George was a wild oat farmer too by the way--we were a "happening" waiting to occur. George was a first time turkey hunter as well. His primary sport was duck hunting. To this day, he is the best wing shot I have ever seen. George's turkey gun of choice was a H&R single shot with a 30 inch full choke barrel. While he was in the shower getting ready to go for our weekend adventure, I took the liberty of putting camo tape on his shotgun as well. Even though I had to use two different kinds of camo tape to finish the job--he beamed when he saw it and exclaimed "Good job Moe!!" (His nickname for me was and still is Moe--I am glad it didn't stick with anybody else).

We gathered up our gear and drove south to Hazlehurst MS to George's girlfriend's house. We didn't arrive until 10:00 PM and a party was in full swing. Well, without going into too much detail, lets just say one thing led to another and I was surprised to see my watch telling me it was 2:30 AM. The party was down to just a few hard core revelers. I had to creep around some of the dark areas of the house straining my eyes to find George so we could go. I found what I thought to be him in a back bedroom--- "PSST PSST George? Is that you??” I got the reply I was looking for " Moe--is that you??" Yeah man, we need to go, we still have a two hour drive" I whispered. "Give me 10 more minutes Moe” George whispered back. I knew it was fruitless to argue--LOVE IS A POWERFULL THING. Feel free to quote me on that.

We made it to the turkey woods in Franklin County MS, just outside Meadville 20 minutes before day light. I wasn't the best day to turkey hunt. It was overcast, cool and windy. No gobbles met the dawn as the turkey hunting books I had been reading assured me would happen. We hiked to the edge of a little green field in the pines and more to show George my newly acquired calling skills than anything else, I put in the Primos True Double and cranked off a series of yelps. George liked it so much I cranked off another series for good measure. Then, without warning, two gobblers left their roost and sailed into the little field we were standing in. We were "naked" as they say and the gobblers immediately busted us and took off. It all happened in a few seconds, leaving us with mouths agape and eyebrows raised in unison.

The rest of the morning was uneventful, so to change our luck, we got back in my truck and drove to some private ground on the Bayou Pierre River just outside of Port Gibson MS. It was now 2:00 PM and the afternoon had turned off sunny and warm. I decided that we should split up and hunt separately. George is a about 6'2 and way over 200 lbs--there is just nothing dainty about him. That morning I felt like I had a Herford bull with me with all the sticks breaking, plodding footsteps and big gusts of alcohol tinted breaths during each rest stop. As we split to go our separate ways, George wished me "Good luck". I confidently responded " I ain't coming back without a turkey". That statement turned out to be a self fulfilling prophesy.

I left George sitting under a big oak tree beside a big hay field. He refused to wear a mask and had a very light complexion. I remember as I looked back at him one last time that his face was shining like a new pair of shoes on Easter morning. I had to smile a bit but then tried to "get my mind right"---I had a turkey to kill.

I eased up a little hardwood draw. I was always a good squirrel hunter so I used those skills to creep along quietly with my eyes and ears at full combat alert. I heard what I now know to be a gobbler yelp--at the time--I simply recognized it as a turkey. I immediately sat down by a big pine with an old hog wire fence not 5 yards in front to me. I got my gun up on one knee and made some yelps that I had spent the past month so dutifully practicing. The gobbler continued to yelp, but never gobbled. I didn't have the opportunity to get 'Gobbler Fever". He came in quickly with nary a gobble. I shot him through the fence at 20 yards. WAHOOO!!! I cut a short piece of sampling, tied his feet to it and carried him out. I had only been gone a little over an hour. I could see that big white face of Georges shining long before I reached the oak tree he was sitting under. "I told you I wasn't coming back without a turkey" I boasted. George put me in a big bear hug and said " Moe--you are something else!"

George is an interesting character. Unless you were close to him, you would not know that he is a very spiritual person. In fact, he is so spiritual we joke that he practices all the religions so as not to leave anything out. He is the only baptistcatholicjewishlutheran person I have ever met. I suppose with me knowing this about him, I wasn't too surprised that he announced that we were going to build a little fire and offer up a sacrifice of turkey entrails to the gods---so that is what we did. The self righteous among us might consider what we did to be a pagonistic act--but to me--it was a special moment with my best friend and my first gobbler.

[vaturkey]

Catdaddy

I love your storytelling !! Great Job !!

[Hognutz]

Your stories never cease to amaze me, Tom. You could re-write the Memphis phone book, and I'd read it cover to cover..Well done..Mike

[guesswho]

[GobbleNut]

You can always tell a great story by the fact that when you first look at it, it seems really long. Then you read it, you are so caught up in it that you don't even realize that you have been reading. That's what happens when I read Tom's stories. Great work, Mr. CatDaddy!

[Turkey Talker]

[Jaybird]

As usual an outstanding story buddy.

[Gobbler]

That was excellent!! Thanks for sharing.

[redarrow]

Great read Tom. God bless and thank you.

[ncturkey]

Great story.

[drenalinld]

That made my morning, thanks for sharing!