MY Father-in-Law, Dick spent his career as a deer biologist for the USFWS. During his employment he served at the Crab Orchard National Wildlife Refuge in Southern Illinois. At one point during the late 1960’s or early 1970’s a group dedicated to re-enacting the Louis and Clark Expedition was traveling through the refuge. He was assigned the task of monitoring gate access to the refuge specifically for the expedition. One of the fellows adorned in period dress stopped for a brief time to exchange small talk and thank him for his service to the brigade. As a small token of thanks the fellow pulled a flash hole pick out of the leather strap on his possibles bag and handed it to Dick. He said it was from the time of the revolution. Not being a muzzleloader guy, Dick stuck that pick into his “boonie hat” for the purpose of holding one side of the brim against the crest in a style so commonly seen on that style of hat. Now I can’t say for sure whether that pick is authentic to the time period stated in the story or not, but I can say that I choose to believe it is and I really don’t care who else does or not.
So what’s the big deal? Well, back in the mid 1980’s I had been chasing and catching his daughter (or was she doing the chasing?) all over central Minnesota for a good long while. Being “invited” to the parents for dinner was a something I had not considered since I was not serious about much of anything at that point. I showed up with hair past my shoulders and full beard wearing my US ARMY issued OD green field jacket, torn blue jeans and steel toed redwing boots. On top of that I was riding a Harley Davidson motorcycle!! The look I got could have raised the dead. From that day on for the next several years I got the distinct impression that neither Dick or his wife cared for me at all. Hell, her mother actively worked to chase me off. And frankly I can understand why. You see I was doing my best to be the biggest dirt-bag loser on this side of the mighty miss. Anyways, after a couple of lost years earning the kind of education that can only be achieved through encounters with alcohol, motor vehicles and law enforcement I finally “got it”. I landed a good job at the local airline, got married, bought a house and started to procreate little Archies and Archettes.
All this time, unbeknownst to me, Dick had been living a high standard of ethical behavior. In those early days I viewed this behavior as being stuck up and I resented it. However,like many families we would gather Sunday afternoons for dinner and family time. Dick and I would sit and talk about our separate adventures in deer hunting, guns, how much the Vikings always suck and politics over countless games of cribbage.
Back then I was hunting deer on public land or with who ever had land and an open stand. Dick was hunting with his old USFWS pal on a small 20 acre back yard. Those two guys were managing the herd in that area and took some of the finest racks I have ever seen from Minnesota. All this time my wife Judy had wanted to hunt deer but the extra build-up of testosterone in the camps I hunted in would not allow women in camp under any circumstances. Add to that my displeasure in the massive amount of alcohol being consumed made for an unpleasant and dangerous (IMO) situation. It just happened that about that time the company I worked for plopped a large back-pay check in my lap so the wife and I decided it was time to stop begging for deer hunting spots. We bought 60 acres of thick pine forest land on the iron range in North Central MN. A few years of building stands, cutting brush for shooting lanes and developing a livable camp and we were filling tags pretty well. That’s when I approached Dick, with “hat in hands” asking him for help us in deer and land management. He graciously accepted and for the last 12 years has been the anchor and patriarch of our deer camp and wealth of knowledge to his deer hunting grandchildren, daughter and dirt-bag-loser son-in-law.
Well Dick’s stuck up behavior has slowly disappeared and we have both been rewarded with a mature relationship that has benefited everyone around us through family stability and uncounted pounds of venison. Dick is now 81 and working on his second heart valve which is going to be his demise hopefully later than sooner. I have come to realize something that I never suspected would happen. That sneaky jerk has been mentoring me all along. He has set a standard that I unknowingly have been trying to reach and as far as I can tell have yet come even close to. You see it wasn’t his behavior that has changed, no it was my crappy attitude that has changed and I can blame it all on him.
Like many Sundays the family had gotten together today for dinner. We spent some time playing cribbage and discussing my 21 year old son’s crappy attitude. Then he said; “ You have turned out to be a pretty good son-in-law”. and then handed me that old boony hat with the flash hole pick stuck in the side. “When you build that flinter this might come in handy”.
I was given something today that I consider an honor to have received. An honor that I have not yet earned and I think will be very difficult to live up to.
So what’s the big deal? Well, back in the mid 1980’s I had been chasing and catching his daughter (or was she doing the chasing?) all over central Minnesota for a good long while. Being “invited” to the parents for dinner was a something I had not considered since I was not serious about much of anything at that point. I showed up with hair past my shoulders and full beard wearing my US ARMY issued OD green field jacket, torn blue jeans and steel toed redwing boots. On top of that I was riding a Harley Davidson motorcycle!! The look I got could have raised the dead. From that day on for the next several years I got the distinct impression that neither Dick or his wife cared for me at all. Hell, her mother actively worked to chase me off. And frankly I can understand why. You see I was doing my best to be the biggest dirt-bag loser on this side of the mighty miss. Anyways, after a couple of lost years earning the kind of education that can only be achieved through encounters with alcohol, motor vehicles and law enforcement I finally “got it”. I landed a good job at the local airline, got married, bought a house and started to procreate little Archies and Archettes.
All this time, unbeknownst to me, Dick had been living a high standard of ethical behavior. In those early days I viewed this behavior as being stuck up and I resented it. However,like many families we would gather Sunday afternoons for dinner and family time. Dick and I would sit and talk about our separate adventures in deer hunting, guns, how much the Vikings always suck and politics over countless games of cribbage.
Back then I was hunting deer on public land or with who ever had land and an open stand. Dick was hunting with his old USFWS pal on a small 20 acre back yard. Those two guys were managing the herd in that area and took some of the finest racks I have ever seen from Minnesota. All this time my wife Judy had wanted to hunt deer but the extra build-up of testosterone in the camps I hunted in would not allow women in camp under any circumstances. Add to that my displeasure in the massive amount of alcohol being consumed made for an unpleasant and dangerous (IMO) situation. It just happened that about that time the company I worked for plopped a large back-pay check in my lap so the wife and I decided it was time to stop begging for deer hunting spots. We bought 60 acres of thick pine forest land on the iron range in North Central MN. A few years of building stands, cutting brush for shooting lanes and developing a livable camp and we were filling tags pretty well. That’s when I approached Dick, with “hat in hands” asking him for help us in deer and land management. He graciously accepted and for the last 12 years has been the anchor and patriarch of our deer camp and wealth of knowledge to his deer hunting grandchildren, daughter and dirt-bag-loser son-in-law.
Well Dick’s stuck up behavior has slowly disappeared and we have both been rewarded with a mature relationship that has benefited everyone around us through family stability and uncounted pounds of venison. Dick is now 81 and working on his second heart valve which is going to be his demise hopefully later than sooner. I have come to realize something that I never suspected would happen. That sneaky jerk has been mentoring me all along. He has set a standard that I unknowingly have been trying to reach and as far as I can tell have yet come even close to. You see it wasn’t his behavior that has changed, no it was my crappy attitude that has changed and I can blame it all on him.
Like many Sundays the family had gotten together today for dinner. We spent some time playing cribbage and discussing my 21 year old son’s crappy attitude. Then he said; “ You have turned out to be a pretty good son-in-law”. and then handed me that old boony hat with the flash hole pick stuck in the side. “When you build that flinter this might come in handy”.
I was given something today that I consider an honor to have received. An honor that I have not yet earned and I think will be very difficult to live up to.
