I am the youngest of four children, and my dad was not a spring chicken when I was born. As a result, most of our quality time at home didn’t involve a ball and glove, it was more like a rake and a wrench. From mowing the lawn to changing the oil in the car, it was clearly understood at home that he called the shots, and the kids did the chores.
I first ventured into the duck blind at 8 years old, and that first year I was just an observer. Besides the ducks and nutria I discovered that year, I also saw a side of my dad that I had never seen. When my brother knocked down a duck, there were genuine congratulations and a warm feeling of companionship between him and my dad. In the blind, there did not seem to be such a distinct boss and laborer role as there was at home. There was a feeling of pride and accomplishment each time a duck hit the pond, each sharing in the other’s success.
In the next few years, I too would shoulder a shotgun and occasionally put the bead on its mark. Just as had occurred with my older brother, my dad would give me a heartfelt “Congratulations” in a way that had never occurred before. Dad would go on and on about how fast that teal came in, and how he crumpled with the first shot and how he could not have made that shot if he tried. I was never so proud of my accomplishments as I was when I was in a duck blind with my dad.
Back at the camp, this young boy would hear things that the men spoke about and Dad would laugh along with me, then give me a nervous smile. He would ask me to help him cook for the group, and I would eagerly agree to help. During that time at the duck camp, I truly felt like a man. If only for those two days a year, Dad and I cooked as a team, hunted as a team, and felt more like brothers than father and son.
Now I am the dad showering the praise on my son when a duck hits the water. Always giving credit for a downed duck to my son whenever there is a chance he put a pellet in it. I now see how much pride and accomplishment comes from the other side of the blind when the youth puts a duck on the water. It is genuine, it is accomplishment, it is a young boy growing into a man. I hope I can make the hunt as memorable for my son as my dad did for me, and I hope my son enjoys it as much as I did.
I let the storm forecast for this weekend scare me out of the blind, but plan to get out there this week. I hope to have a good report for you guys next week. Here’s to hoping you shoot straight and shoot often.
