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Reminds me of a favorite quote: "The past is never dead. It's not even past." William Faulkner. Of all the various elements encompassed by hunting in its fullest context, it's the connection of hunters to past times and people that I've come most to appreciate. Thanks, Randy, for sharing that story.

Man thats a heck of a story and a great memory for you to hang on to.

Well, the story just keeps unfolding.......in response to your nice replys and as a tribute to all the great hunts each of us hold special.................here's a reply to Wingman's post Feb 05, 2010 on this site about "Who took you.....on your first hunt?"

Anatidae wrote:My oldest brother.............



..........took me on my first duck hunt. I had a new BB gun I'd just gotten for Christmas and we were in a 2-man pit in Cameron Parish, LA right across the North line of Lacassine Refuge......the 'coastal' lease. It was real foggy that morning.......and I remember hearing the thumping of big guns down in the marsh. We had geese all around us but couldn't ever see them. We sat there a long time but there was never a time I wasn't in anticipation of laying my eyes on what was making all the racket above us - my eyes strained to see 'anything' through the fog. I had to stand-up in the pit just to see the decoys over the edge.

We decided to pick-up and try it another day. I was out in the decoys fixin' to pull one of the 12 G&H standard specklebelly shells up when I heard a couple of 'specks' (as I learned the difference in the various calls that morning) that sounded really close. I kept watching and spotted a pair coming through the fog about 20yds off the deck. I got Perry's attention and pointed towards the birds coming straight for us. He told me not to move. I can remember it like it was this morning......I was bent over with my hand around a decoy's neck......but I didn't even wink. He told me to look straight down (to hide my face). He'd been telling me all morning about looking right at the birds but none ever broke through the fog for them to see any bare 'skin'. I cut my eyes up toward the birds under the bill of my hat and heard the safety go-off. The 870 spoke twice and the pair fell. One of'em was flopping a little, so Perry told me to take my BB gun and finish him off. I also vividly remember shooting the goose in the butt (shows you what I knew about vital organs at that time). It was a great day - I was hunting with my big brother and he let me participate in the hunt. I would have to check his hunting journal........but I think it was around 1961-62......I would've been 7-8 years old.

Dig the penny loafers and the whitewalls on that '57 Chevy......photo was taken May 14, 1963.

As it turns-out, there is a log entry for December 27, 1964. It reads......

Perry's Log wrote:Randy and I went down to Jimmy's place with Mr. B (Beresford) and Gordon (his son). Two specklebellies came in but flared pretty good way out. My slide was back and I couldn't fire; I pumped one shell out into the mud, killed one and missed the other. When we were leaving a snow goose flew over and I plastered him. The speck was big, old, and in good shape, so I mounted him.

Well, so much for my 'accurate' recollection of a hunt when I was 10 years old. But he knew I was itching to use my new BB gun and took me with him that day. What I thought was his safety going off was him shucking a shell into the mud. I was right about 2 geese killed that day - I guess I embelished when I said he killed both specs. That's probably how I 'wanted' to remember it. Funny, I don't recall the snow at all.

But here's the amazing twist to this part of this story........according to his taxidermy log, that specklebelly was the last thing he mounted. It hung over my Dad's (formerly my Grand Dad's) roll-top desk until Mom suggested we hang my Great-Grandfather's portrait in its place. The goose was moved to another wall in the den.

As we were going through the last remnants of a lifestyle and family home changed by Katrina, I knew I couldn't keep everything - I didn't have room for it. There was another speck mounted in a standing pose and a greenhead taking flight of a stationary wood base. The cat took a notion to swat the spec in the back of the head one day for no reason - and ripped a plug off the head. Good thing I was off at college - that cat woulda been stinkin-up somebody's garbage can. So, I let those two go on the table of discarded items. Anne asked me about the flying speck......I hesitated for some reason (not associating that it was the one he killed that day when I was with him).......and for some reason I said......"I don't know yet.....let me think about it."

After 3 days of going through stuff, trying to make responsible decisions, you just get worn-down. The truck was getting full -- I knew I was going to have to make at least one more trip down there oneday.......so, I left it hanging on the wall for the time, being.

I remember when we moved from Lake Charles to Hattiesburg in '69.....Dad made a special box for that goose.....for the way it was mounted (and probably because of its significance in His life and attempts to cope with the loss of his namesake). The hanger wire comes-out of the tip of one wing that is straight up the wall (when hung).....the other wing is just curled in suspension out in the room. I remember he secured a plywood base in the bottom of the cardboard box and had another upright wood piece to hang the goose on....just like it was on the wall inside the box.

Long stroy, short.........I've got the roll-top desk now. I've got Great Grandpa Rush's portrait. I've got 'Killer' (the canoe in the photo that has seen every square mile of marsh and bayou in Calcasieu/Cameron Parish). I've got Perry's 870, a few calls, his log, his scrapbook of hunting photos to go along with the log, and 'the band'...........and before I go back to Hattiesburg for the final trip......I'll have a custom-made box for transporting 'that speck'. It's still in perfect shape - every meticulously-combed feather (done with a straight pin) is in place but it could use some fresh paint on the feet and bill. It's going back over the desk.

Again, Thanks for your thoughtful comments.

Make some memories, this season. Life is short - smell the 'muck'.

Awesome!

Wow Randy, thats pretty darn deep! Its hard to imagine that my lil ole hunting journal would mean so much to someone else one day, but I sure as hell hope they appreciate it just half as much as you do your brothers! I make usre the take pictures with the folks and never just the birds to add to the memory for me for now. I have ole gator making me a decoy that will start making all my hunting treks with me for years to come that I hope to be able to pass down to a son-in-law or better yet a grandson one day no matter how rough it may look at that point.

There are some folks that should share an experience together in a duck blind some day and you should know that you are on my list of foks to do some sharing with one day! We'll have to make that happen here in the states, then maybe up North at some point too! Thanks for sharing all this, it has been an awesome read!

Thanks, Kelly - I'm sure we'll hunt together, soon and we'll look forward to it.

That's amazing!!

Randy did yall ever hunt with the Scott's from Orange. My best friends family hunted that area of the marsh at the same time as this.

Scott doesn't ring a bell, Pat.

I DID finally figure-out that Martone must have been the farmer's name. I believe it was over close to Chaulkey. I thought about calling one of his former hunting partners (Hunter Perrin) and ask him. I'm sure he knows more about the banded bird than I do, too - as he spent a lot more time in the field with my brother than I did. I've even thought of getting his old buddies together for a hunt in SK, but they are all 68-70, now. I know 2 of them are still alive (Hunter and Berdon Lawrence- 'don't know about Jimmy Beresford, though - have not kept in contact with any but Hunter.

Anatidae wrote:Scott doesn't ring a bell, Pat.

I DID finally figure-out that Martone must have been the farmer's name. I believe it was over close to Chaulkey. I thought about calling one of his former hunting partners (Hunter Perrin) and ask him. I'm sure he knows more about the banded bird than I do, too - as he spent a lot more time in the field with my brother than I did. I've even thought of getting his old buddies together for a hunt in SK, but they are all 68-70, now. I know 2 of them are still alive (Hunter and Berdon Lawrence- 'don't know about Jimmy Beresford, though - have not kept in contact with any but Hunter.

Berdon Lawrence? i used to hunt with him.. or let me say i hunted with a Berdon Lawrence.. sent you a PM

It has to be the same person - not a very common name. I've only got 2 photos of Berdon in the scrap book and one that I clipped out of Orvis News hunting with Frederick Knight about 15 years ago. There are some photos of the cabin down at the Gum Cove marsh as they use to hang the ducks on the side of the cabin for photos.

His name frequents the hunting log. I'm sure he would get a kick out of some of the entries.

I googled him as I was writing this thread about the band - came-up with Consultant of Kirby and CEO Emeritus of Kinder Morgan Corporations in Houston, TX. I was not able to establish any contact info, so I don't know if that's him or not. But it wouldn't surprise me.

If you have any contact info for Berdon - I'd appreciate it. PM, please.

that's him. small world ain't it. i cut teeth hunting several pieces of land he owns. hunted with him several times over the years but it has been years ago. super good man.. i personally do not have his number but i do know who does. it might take me a day or two but i will pm you with it.

Small World, indeed!

Thanks - I appreciate your interest and your trouble.

Happy Hunting!

Wow, this is getting a lil more awesome by the minute. Keep us posted.

Mr. Randy,

As w/ everyone else, awesome story! Heck, for that matter, this whole post is jam up great stuff! I'm glad you took the time to share it.