At the same time he was building a chicken farm, adding laying hens, chicken houses and production capabilities until we had 11,000 hens by the time I reached high school. We supplied eggs to several of the big grocery stores like the local A&P. As you can imagine, he was busy. Every morning he was up before daylight, feeding chickens and gathering eggs before heading to his day job at school. As soon as he got home in the afternoons there was work until dark. And chickens eat and lay eggs on the weekends. They don't take Saturday and Sunday off.
He didn't have a lot of time for hunting and fishing. It seemed to me back then that I worked all the time too. Now I realize that dad worked extra to allow me to go on all the fishing, hunting and camping trips I could. There were many times he could have used my help on the farm while I was on a local pond trying to catch anything that would bite.
Dad did go to a dove shoot every Saturday during season and I was never left at home. Until I was about 12 I was the retriever. I prided myself on being able to get every dove he hit, no matter how thick the brush and briars where it went down. When I got a .410 and was allowed to shoot at the birds myself, I really felt grown up. And shoot at were the operative words. I seldom hit one.
We joined a boat club at Clark's Hill and bought a ski boat when I was 16 years old. I seldom missed a weekend during the spring staying at the lake, skiing, fishing, swimming and living the good life. I didn't stop to think that someone was working at home while I was having such a good time.
Dad and mom spent some weekends at the lake and those are special memories. I will never forget the time mom and I had been fishing out of the big ski boat for crappie and having fairly good luck. Dad decided to join us and he got in the 12 foot jon boat and paddled back to the cove we were fishing. As some point he moved the wrong way and was dumped overboard. He came up with his cigarette still in his mouth, got back into the boat and was able to laugh at himself along with me and my mom. I will never forget that picture of him with the wet, broken cigarette hanging from his mouth, laughing as we laughed.
Dad also loved quail hunting. We kept a couple of pointers and, once quail season opened, Dad and I were tramping the fields around our farm and all the neighbors' farms for hours, looking for bobwhite. We always found some, and I discovered how nearly impossible a quail was to hit with a .410, especially since the covey rise scared me so much. I didn't have to be a retriever since the dogs did that, so I mostly walked and watched.
I got my love of fishing from my mother. I got my love of hunting from my father. Both of them did extra so I could spend more time in the woods and on the water while I was growing up. No one ever had a better childhood. I realize that more each day.
These memories are especially strong right now since this is the first Father's Day for me since dad died in January, 2000. I hope all fathers will spend time with their children, fishing and hunting if possible but doing other things if that works better. That time spent with the children will make our world a better place today and tomorrow!
