Sunday, January 23, 2011

Hunting License

Over the years, I've written quite a lot of stories about the kids, about my childhood, about my side of the family... but not so much about Charlie's family.

There's a reason for this... most of the stories are of the variety that would make many people find them difficult, if not impossible to believe...

Like the time Daddy (Charlie Sr.) and his brother Jerry (One of the dozen or so Jerry Feathers in the family) went hunting.

Unlike most hunters I know, they didn't go to a hunt club or stake out a spot, put up a deer stand and make a big deal out of it. No... they simply drove to a liquor store, then a convenience store then into the Francis Marion National Forest, parked their car on the side of the road and waited for a deer to cross.

They were dragging their doe (a traditional no-no unless a specified "doe day") to the car when the Game Warden pulled up and got out of his truck to talk to them.
"What are y'all doin'?"
Daddy spoke without slowing his and Jerry's movement toward their car. "Trying to get this deer to the car."
"Y'all know you're supposed to have a hunting license dontcha?"
"Yessir."
"I don't suppose you guys have a hunting license?"
Still without breaking stride, Daddy said, "Yessir. Sure do."
"Would you mind if I see it?"
At this point they stopped dragging the deer, stood up and looked each other in the eye. Then Daddy turned, lifted his gun, pointed it at the Game Warden and said "It's right there in the end of this barrel. Can you see it?"
"Yeah, I see it just fine."
The Game Warden then turned, got back into his truck and left. Daddy and Jerry got the deer to the car and loaded her up.

That week, Charlie had venison jerky.

True Story.