Well let's see...I've been in something like 25 fights and never lost. I was taught to never start a fight and to never back down either.
When I was 20-21 I caught a 14lb largemouth bass on a large minnow. It was only 14lbs because it was obviously malnourished. I filled a full size ice chest with water and had to set down in there diagonally for it to fit and the tail curled around the side of the nice chest. It measured nearly 36" long and the mouth was large enough that I wa able to fit both of my fists, side by side, in its mouth. A local game warden came around checking licenses and asked what I had on the stringer at which point I pulled it up. His eyes bugged out and he said it was the biggest bass he had seen or heard of that came out of the lake. I released it in a local farm pond.
When I was in my mid-twenties I nearly spent some time in the big house for blackhat activity.
While living in St. Charles, LA, my younger brother and I drove over to Holly Beach and I pulled a live 6ft alligator out its den, head first, while straddling it from behind and my brother couldn't help laughing at my stupidity from 20ft away. I submitted the story (as seen below) for a college writing assignment for which I received an 'A' and that, is my claim to fame.
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It was a hot June afternoon in Lake Charles, Louisiana. My younger brother and I had been unloading the U-Haul after a long ten hour drive from Broken Arrow, Oklahoma on the previous day and we decided it was time to take a break. Neither of us had ever been to Louisiana but the tales of alligators and swamp land made us curious about our surroundings. I looked at the time; it was 2 o’clock in the afternoon. Using my index finger as a squeegee, I wiped the beaded sweat from my brow and said “hey, let’s lock everything up and go for a drive. You know? Just to see what’s south of here”. With a smile, Tate replied “yeah, that’d be cool, let me get my shirt”. With only a cell phone in our possession, we climbed into my Ford Ranger and turned onto the street, beginning our adventure.
I knew we might be heading to an area which might be away from civilization so I drove to the nearest convenient store, 3 short miles up the road. We would need beverages, refreshments, and a full tank of gas because neither of us knew what we might encounter on the road that stretched into the horizon. My mind was flooded with thoughts of what the day might bring and as I exited the store, each step was a little more hurried than the previous. Turning the ignition, the motor roared to life as if it, too, was excited to explore the road ahead.
I had been driving for about twenty miles, across bridges and through marshlands, when we arrived at a small drawbridge. As we waited for the operator to lower the bridge, we rolled down the windows only to feel the hot and humid summer air rush into the cab of the truck. A pelican, perched on what appeared to be an old broken telephone pole, looked in our direction as if to say “what are you guys doin’ way out here” and I’ll have to admit, I was beginning to wonder the same thing myself. The bridge finally lowered and without hesitation, we proceeded on our way. I hadn’t driven more than two or three miles when Tate spotted a sign which read “Holly Beach”. It was quite a surprise to find a beach way out in the middle of nowhere but the thought of the ocean being nearby brought a smile to our faces.
I slowed down and noticed an entrance onto the beach where it appeared that others had driven out onto the sand. Although my Ford Ranger was a light truck, I wanted to be certain to not get stuck so I walked out and inspected the ground on which we would be crossing, it was dry and solid. I stepped back into the truck and slowly began to roll across the sand. Everything seemed to be going alright until I noticed something wrong. My tachometer was still showing my rpm’s at 1000 but the truck wasn’t moving forward. I had only driven fifteen feet onto the sand and when I opened the door, the truck was buried up to the axles. I was ready to freak out because here we were, out in the middle of nowhere and there wasn’t any sign of civilization for as far as the eye could see in any direction. “Oh, wait…I have my cell phone” was my first thought. Reaching for my cell phone, I knew everything would be alright once I contacted a towing service. As I pressed the button, the much dreaded “No Service” was the only words on the screen. Tate looked at me with an “Oh, crap” look on his face and asked “What in hell are we going to do now?” I will spare you the full details of what my reply was. Suffice to say, I was now in panic mode. “I’ll wait out by the road” I replied, “someone is bound to come by sooner or later and maybe they can get a signal or alert someone as to our whereabouts”. Tate nodded his head in agreement “Alright, I’m going to walk down the beach”.
Standing out by the road, the sun beat down upon me mercilessly. It had only been a few short moments ago when I was enjoying the air conditioner while sitting in the cab of my truck. Now, the heat parched my throat and singed my nostrils while the sand glanced off of my face, landing in my hair and eyes. It seemed as though all hope was lost. My hopes for a passerby were dashed when each car I thought I was seeing turned out to be nothing more than a mirage, an illusion created by the sun and heat on the blistering pavement. My thoughts began to torment me. What am I going to do? How long will we be out here before someone comes by? Will we both die and be picked clean by vultures, leaving only our bones to be used as a DNA sample to identify us? No, I didn’t freak out that bad but I knew I was in a bad situation. I turned and was about to walk back to the truck when I heard the sound of a car coming in my direction. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I was able to identify that it was a sheriff! Never in my life was I so glad to see an officer of the law! He stopped and asked if I needed help and what I was doing so far out. I explained that I had just moved from Oklahoma and I just wanted to check the area out. He warned me of the soft sand and radioed for a wrecker service, allowing me to sit in the car until the tow truck arrived. The driver hadn’t been there 5 minutes and my truck back on solid ground. I was happy to pay $125, as it was a small price to pay for my sanity and transportation.
I began walking down the beach in the direction I saw my brother and he was nowhere to be seen. I yelled for him until I thought I’d lose my voice and then he finally appeared on the horizon, running toward me as fast as he could. “There’s an alligator down here” he exclaimed in short breaths. “Is it alive, how big is it?” I asked. “It’s alive and about four feet long”. I followed him back to the location and there it was, but it was closer to six feet in length rather than four as he had told me. As I crept up onto an overhanging ledge, I could hear the deep growl as if to warn me of coming closer. Reaching down and taking hold of a piece of driftwood, I began to gouge the beast. I was determined to prod him out of his comfort zone and for what, I haven’t a clue. Inching closer, I picked up a piece of lumber and as the alligator opened its massive jaws, I thrust the stick in. His jaws clamped down on the piece of lumber and in that moment, I jumped onto his back as he tossed it aside. Using my bare hands, I closed the jaws and began pulling him out of his hole while my brother stood, some ten feet away, laughing at my insanity. Could I blame him? Not in the least bit, for here I was sitting on the back of a six foot alligator with no idea of what I was going to do next. I knew one thing for sure; I wasn’t going to be his next meal. Gripping his jaws tightly, I could feel the beast attempt a death roll. A death roll is what an alligator does when it has helpless prey locked in its jaws and the roll will rip the prey into pieces. I looked at my brother, who was staring wide-eyed in disbelief at what he was witnessing, and I told him to get far out of the way. As I stood up, I released the jaws of the angry reptile and sprang backwards. I was poised for retaliation but in haste, the alligator ran for the incoming tide and swam away. Tate looked at me in awe of what he had just seen his big brother do and said “Man, you’re crazy!” I laughed aloud and replied “That was pretty wild and intense, huh? Now, you’ll certainly have a story to tell everyone back home.”
It was beginning to get late in the afternoon when we finally began to make our way back down the beach where I left the truck. We shared laughs and thoughts about the “what ifs” had things gotten out of control when I was flirting with danger. As we climbed into the cab of the truck, air conditioning had never felt better. Making our way back home, we reminisced about our childhood and about him going back home the following weekend. I wanted to give my younger brother something to remember when he accompanied me to Louisiana. I gave him more than just an adventure or something to remember. I gave him a story that he can tell his children, about the time he watched his big brother flirting with danger.
