His name was Hugh, but everyone knew him as "Buddy". He was Mr. Buddy to me. He was a friend, coworker and mentor to my Uncle, whose father (my grandfather) had been killed early on. He helped steer my Uncle in a path that lead him to great professional and personal success. When they both retired, they went in together and bought an expanse of land in the Upper Cumberland area of Tennessee. I was lucky enough to be invited several times a year for the past 25 years or so to hunt deer and turkey with them.
Mr. Buddy took me from being a green kid, just killing time in the woods, to truly enjoying the whole experience of being in the deer stand or turkey blind. He appreciated Native American beliefs and tried to instill in me the respect for the land and animals that we hunted. If you cut hair or drew blood, he could track the animal with certainty. He taught me that you're never closer with God, than when you see a sun rise in the woods. He taught me that shooting little groups on paper meant nothing, if you couldn't translate that ability into efficiently taking a game animal with one shot.
Nothing was more enjoyable than heading back to his place after the morning hunt to drink a beer and retell your morning hunt. You better have the time, direction of movement and animal size down pat, because he wanted an accurate report. If he missed the afternoon hunt, you'd get a phone call that evening to fill him in on your progress. He could tell a funny Jerry Clower story as well as the original and his story telling of past hunts and even life experiences are the best I'd ever heard.
He began having health issues a couple of years ago, but he continued to hunt. If he couldn't make it up into the tree stand, he'd sit at the base of the tree and still harvest some great deer. He loved having his grandson or my oldest son hunt with us, because passing on the tradition meant the world to him.
He got me into turkey hunting after years of only hunting deer. One day he loaned me a Neil Cost boat paddle box call that is about as rare as they come. I questioned using such a rare and expensive call in the woods. He told me that he didn't own any gear that he was afraid to bring into the woods. I used that call to kill my first turkey, in fact, three seasons in a row I called in and shot a good bird with that call. After the third consecutive season of getting a bird with his call, he asked me if I'd accept the call as a gift from him.... under one condition. That condition being that one day when he dies, I had to think of him when I used the call while hunting. I can tell you that he will be with me everytime I venture into the woods.
Yesterday afternoon, he was having a very rough day. His loving wife of 50+ years helped him outside to sit on their back deck. He took his last breath staring at the lake and mountains that he truly loved.
Gone, but never forgotten.
Mr. Buddy took me from being a green kid, just killing time in the woods, to truly enjoying the whole experience of being in the deer stand or turkey blind. He appreciated Native American beliefs and tried to instill in me the respect for the land and animals that we hunted. If you cut hair or drew blood, he could track the animal with certainty. He taught me that you're never closer with God, than when you see a sun rise in the woods. He taught me that shooting little groups on paper meant nothing, if you couldn't translate that ability into efficiently taking a game animal with one shot.
Nothing was more enjoyable than heading back to his place after the morning hunt to drink a beer and retell your morning hunt. You better have the time, direction of movement and animal size down pat, because he wanted an accurate report. If he missed the afternoon hunt, you'd get a phone call that evening to fill him in on your progress. He could tell a funny Jerry Clower story as well as the original and his story telling of past hunts and even life experiences are the best I'd ever heard.
He began having health issues a couple of years ago, but he continued to hunt. If he couldn't make it up into the tree stand, he'd sit at the base of the tree and still harvest some great deer. He loved having his grandson or my oldest son hunt with us, because passing on the tradition meant the world to him.
He got me into turkey hunting after years of only hunting deer. One day he loaned me a Neil Cost boat paddle box call that is about as rare as they come. I questioned using such a rare and expensive call in the woods. He told me that he didn't own any gear that he was afraid to bring into the woods. I used that call to kill my first turkey, in fact, three seasons in a row I called in and shot a good bird with that call. After the third consecutive season of getting a bird with his call, he asked me if I'd accept the call as a gift from him.... under one condition. That condition being that one day when he dies, I had to think of him when I used the call while hunting. I can tell you that he will be with me everytime I venture into the woods.
Yesterday afternoon, he was having a very rough day. His loving wife of 50+ years helped him outside to sit on their back deck. He took his last breath staring at the lake and mountains that he truly loved.
Gone, but never forgotten.
