Sometimes you get what you need…

By Bob Zettler

March 24, 2014

Pay it forward - Woody Hayes (February 14, 1913 – March 12, 1987) was a college football coach who is best remembered for winning five national titles and 13 Big Ten championships in 28 years at The Ohio State University. He misquoted Emerson as having said "You can pay back only seldom. You can always pay forward, and you must pay line for line, deed for deed, and cent for cent." He also shortened the (mis)quotation into "You can never pay back; but you can always pay forward"

There is a Rolling Stones song that starts out, “You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes well you might find. You get what you need.” Now for this past week I have wanted to get out and hunt Snow geese as I had scrimped and saved (and spent) like never before to really get after them this 2014 Conservation Order Season. Usually by now it was pretty much over here in central Illinois but due to the winter weather we have been experiencing, the migration northward had been considerably prolonged and I just knew we could shoot geese through this weekend and maybe even next. However, my crew had given up and I was left with few options.

Sure, I owned a lot of gear but for health reasons there was no way I could do it by myself. And I just knew the Juvies would come. Maybe not as many as we are use to due to the weather but enough to make it worth one’s while to get out and enjoy the hunt and capitalize on all that you had worked and spent towards. However, it has been quite possibly the worst waterfowl season for me personally since I started chasing them back in 1978 and here I was stuck at home…

Earlier, On Wednesday I had heard that we had new birds show up the day after our spread was picked up. In fact, it was a pretty good influx of maybe 20-30,000 birds. No, not the 50,000+ we are use to but a respectable number to be worth being out there; at least to me. Alas, my season was ending on a sour note that dated all the way back to Christmas Eve when I came down with pneumonia followed by two bouts of bronchitis. Now, I was so desperate that I was even considering paying the $300 and hunting Havana for a day...

Just to confirm what I had been told, I had gone to check out the fields we hunt after work last Friday and saw a number of birds. No, not the 20,000 or more that I expected but enough I knew that could make my day. Alas, since I couldn’t do it on my own and the other three groups that chase them in our area were full up, all I could do was sulk. Then fate intervened and a person I only knew from our meeting on FaceBook and chatting over the past six months took pity on my plight and extended an invitation to hunt with him and his son in his pit on Sunday! While he could only hunt till 1:30 PM, it was the fix I so desperately wanted.

I don’t know about you all but it seems this year more than ever I simply have a hard time getting to sleep the night before a hunt. Maybe it’s old age or maybe, just maybe, it’s that inside I am still like that kid trying to get to sleep the night before heading back to school. I might be 60 now but I sure act and feel (inside at least) like that young kid, all excited the night before a hunt. I mean I simply hate going to sleep as if I will miss something or the morning can’t come quick enough. In any case, I got out of bed around 4:30 AM and was on the road by 5 AM so I could meet my hosts by 7 AM. That time seemed late to me, and when Jon said to me that they simply seldom fly before 8 AM, it reminded me of so many times in the past when those same words were spoken only to discover birds in the decoys as we arrived. Famous last words I thought…

Anyway, for a change I was there 10 minutes early and took the opportunity to get the rest of my hunting clothes on and eat my breakfast – they had already eaten on the way so my offer of biscuits and gravy wasn’t necessary. Jon and his son Easton arrived in a muddy truck that was obviously remodeled to handle dirt roads and instead of following him, I was asked to throw my gear in with his as the roads were, shall we say, a tad rough!

Now one of my monikers is the “Old Waterfowler Whore” as I will travel most anywhere to hunt with people I have never even met in person just for the opportunity to hunt waterfowl with new people and in new places. Several times I have driven to North Dakota and hunted with other waterfowlers I had never met before then and always had a great time whether or not we “racked and stacked” them. There are a lot of good people in this world and I have always believed in sharing with others the pleasure of the outdoors and the possibility of harvesting waterfowl and upland game. I use to take upwards of 7 people a season back many years ago and in all these years I had only been burned a couple of times afterwards. So even though I might not be able to take as many nowadays, I still appreciate those who practice the same philosophy I have maintained for nearly 40 years and this day would turn out no different…

It was already breaking daylight as we drove to the pit, and as the ground was frozen (in late March no less), we drove right up to the pit to drop off our gear. And what a spread! Maybe a thousand decoys with most being full-bodies complemented by Slammer Socks and SilloSocks just to add to the movement. It was a fair wind out of the northwest and the pit was substantial enough to probably handle six shooters. Much to my delight I was given an end on the west facing south towards a pond while the Pit Boss, Easton, and his Father put out the Fox Pro sound system and placed a couple of flyers behind the pit.

Up until this morning, I had never met either of my hosts in person but I had learned about them from their FaceBook posts and in talking with Jon several times over the past several months. And when you meet people for the first time in person, you don’t know what to expect, but I try to be myself and not project a false image - with only modification I make is in the case of kids – I try and limit my swearing or ribald stories I am prone to fall into. So no “Rooster-Vacuum Pump” or “Maternal-Intercourse” or the like for which I seem to yell out whether I am mad or happy – you’ll understand if you listen to my hunting videos. Sure we both let slip a couple of words during the day but for the most part it was a PG or PG-13 experience.

What was unexpected was we had two nice groups of Snow geese come into our spread in the first hour or so! Here we are chatting away and relating stories about our experiences, families and hunting in general and the Pit Boss spotted birds coming. Now this is a long pit and we were at least 15’ apart, and what with the sound system reaching out to our prey, I was having a difficult time clearly hearing them as Easton was soft-spoken and all the way at the far end. So as the shot was called on the first group I was a little late getting up and on the birds. Now it was a nice group of maybe a dozen and we all had extension tubes on our respective shotguns but the Dark Cloud curse seemed to rear its ugly head as we only dropped three birds – with one landing on the ice in the pond and mine making it across the pond to the adjacent property where it (finally) dropped dead!

We decided to leave those two for later but were delighted and somewhat surprised that all three appeared to be adults as had been most of the flock. This has sure been a strange year as I have yet to see many Juvies fall to our guns. From the boot-heel of Missouri to central Illinois, the vast majority have been mature birds when by now we should be seeing a majority of Juvies with a few Adults mixed in. Even more surprising to all of us was that so few fell to our guns! We should have had six or more down but Jon had gun issues and I know I simply rushed the shots and didn’t take my time to truly get on one bird at a time. I initially blamed my part on bringing the Beretta as it had the PatternMaster long-range choke in it but even with a tight pattern at birds that close I should have connected more. Que Sera, Que sera.

At least we were on the board and I knew the one in the adjacent field was one I shot at so everyone had at least one bird down. With Easton, the Pit Boss, back on watch, we went back to exploring our past experiences with regard to hunting, family and friends. There is an old saying “you can choose your friends but not your family” and for some that can be a problem when it comes to family and even friends but this Father and Son team seemed to be a very good match. Easton is only 14 and goes with his Father as much as he can which is a good thing IMHO. I have had the pleasure this past month alone of hunting with two Father-Son teams. I had met Todd and Zack through my friend Arick earlier this month and I have to say both of these partnerships are truly blessed and I hope the sons know it.

As for myself, I got into hunting on my own. Yes, my Father hunted pheasants and even took me when I was very young. But in hindsight I am not sure if it was for my company as it was for my walking down into the waterway ditches around Champaign County to try and roust a rooster out for him to shoot at. There was no sharing or Father-Son bonding and I soon fell away from even going. It wasn’t until after high school that I went with my buddy and shot my first rabbit, followed by going with my Father that next year and shooting my first Rooster, that I started to get interested. Then came California – in 1973 I had a LOT OF FUN out there – followed by the Air Force where even though I was stationed in San Antonio I still had no desire to hunt. I guess it wasn’t until I got out of the service and went to SIU at Carbondale in 1978 that the obsession took hold. Christ, I was lucky to not have flunked out that first fall as I had to take incompletes in two classes for I was goose hunting every single day instead of going to class! Those were the days but I digress as usual…

Sometimes even your friends can piss you off and when people hunt with each other for the first time you just never know how it will turn out. Are they strict? Do they curse and yell at everything? Do they belittle one another and get into heated arguments? Are they control-freaks? Are they bandits or sky-busters? I mean there are all sorts of things that can either create new bonds or even break old ones as well. That a first time hunt with new people can either establish a relationship or destroy the possibility of one is always a possibility but for the most part I strive to be myself with the primary caveat here is to limit my vulgarity among young people and women. What I was truly amazed to discover is that Jon and his entire family hunts together on occasion. I dreamed of that when my children were little as their Mother and my first date was a hunt at Crab Orchard. But we were divorced after 10 years and the children were young. And as their Mother partially blamed our divorce on my hunting, they were just indoctrinated that hunting was bad. It was unfortunate for all of us. It wasn’t until years later that she came to understand I hunted more and more because of our issues and that it was a symptom and not a cause but by then it was truly over and even though our children lived with me now they had turned 14, they were already…shall we say, non-hunters. I really lost out on that one…

Anyway, as I was saying, family and friends are important to me and even though they can let you down, or you (me too) let them down, they are a very important part of everyone’s life and I was so very happy to witness how Jon and his son work together and create new memories in the process. And as we talked about hunting, friends, family and the like, I was reminded about someone I care for. How I felt sad and somewhat guilty for losing touch with my God-Mother who had moved to the town we were hunting next to a few years back. I even related the story to my hosts about how she had taken a turn for the worse while fighting cancer and that when I last called her to say I was coming over to visit, she responded with how she did not want me to come and see her how she was now for she wanted me to remember her as she had been. Now years before then I would most likely have said to Hell with her wishes and go visit anyway but I learned a long time ago to try and honor a person’s request even though I felt it might not be in their best interests. Yet, as I had in the past and I did back then, I reached out to her relatives to keep me abreast of her situation so that when the end came as she foretold, I could be there for her and the remaining members of her family. The sad part was I never heard anything and what with my life the way it was back then, I just simply didn’t follow up as I could have and for that I felt guilty and sad…

I am a pretty open book and express my feelings, with the exception of anger sometimes as I would rather not say something to a friend or family member that I might regret later on, and while I was getting a little melancholy, I was humbled by what I was experiencing with Jon, Easton and the talk of their family as the morning progressed. Then we were interrupted by another flock of birds and it was game on again! It was a flock of maybe a dozen and when the shot was called and guns rose, I am still not sure I killed anything and was pretty bummed over rushing my shots once again that I unloaded on them as they went out of range. Still, we had a couple more on the ground and we had till 1:30 before we had to quit.

The morning went on and I hope the initial bonds of a new friendship started to form as our repartee went on without a lapse in the sharing of experiences, opinions and even desires for the future. And while the birds did not come as hoped, we still had five on the ground when 1:30 creeped up on us. Easton had performed his role as Pit Boss admirably throughout the morning moving the speakers, flyers and the like while his Father and I kept yapping. And as we unloaded and cased or shotguns and began to police the pit, Easton said we had birds coming. Thinking he was joking, especially when he said “all of them”, we had to peak over the lip of the pit and discovered hundreds of birds on the deck and maple-leafing towards us!

It was asses and elbows getting the guns uncased and loaded for there were indeed a sky full and they were about to swallow us all up! And as they went over us with some even skimming the flyers in front of the pit, he decided to take them on the next pass. They looped around to the left and came in locked up right into our spread. With some birds probably on the ground behind us from that first pass, the shot was called and we unloaded! Bang, Bang, Bang….and two birds fell; all on their end! Well, it was something to see and thankfully I had my GoPro on which captured some of what we experienced – I did edit out the two minutes I had to relieve myself afterward (shoot me, I forgot the camera was on) – but it was a typical end to a dismal waterfowl season for me personally. Sure, I got out and even killed a few birds, and I have to say thank to a number of friends who made it possible and even prevented me from doing much other than walking out to hunt so as to make sure I didn’t get sick again, but the last three months were tough. From not being able to go due to illness and then weather and then illness again, to what birds we did have not being cooperative, it sucked for me personally.

Yet, here I was the benefactor of some very good people who made it possible to get out again before it was all over and for that I am truly appreciative. To rehash old memories, to forging new bonds, to creating new memories, it was a damn fine day! And as we said goodbye in the parking lot, I just knew I had to take advantage of the situation and pay my respects to my God Mother’s relatives and hopefully visit the grave-site. A tough one for sure, as I felt extreme guilt for not doing more as I tried to abide by her wishes, but I knew I had to do for it was the right thing to do.

You know I have noticed it the past couple of years how so many people nowadays have smart cell phones and use them (almost as much I did) in the blind as I did when they first came out. I even remember being chastised by these same people years earlier for my doing what they now do but it adds to the experience and can be an excellent aid at times. This wasn’t one of those times as I tried to find Ethel’s relatives via Google but it kept giving me all these “pay for” background checks, their emails, addresses and the like that I was striking out. I did try the old-fashioned way earlier and asked a local business to look at their phone book but they didn’t have one – go figure! And since I felt pretty proficient at finding stuff on the “Net” I kept at it and finally took a chance on one number. It rang and the woman who answered sounded very familiar – it was my God-Mother! She had not succumbed to illness as she had believed several years ago and while I whooped and hollered, I was reminded that I had not done this earlier which had led to many regrets over the past several years which could have, and should have been avoided.

Now here comes the funny part, I asked her where she lived as she had to be in either with family or in a nursing home, and she had to go look! She came back three times to say she was still looking before telling me “28 Main Street.” I was so out of it that I asked her to spell “Main”, not once but three times! Using the same smart cell phone, I Google Mapped it and it took me to a store downtown. Knowing I must have made a mistake, I swallowed my pride and called her again. On no, it was “28 ______” and I realized it was the same address she had lived at the last time I was there and which I had already driven past. And as I pulled into the driveway, there was the same Ethel I had seen four years earlier. She hadn’t aged in my eyes at all.

And as we visited over the next five hours until dark sitting in the living room that was absolutely immaculate and relived old times and how we both missed so many of the people in our lives who were no longer with us, I asked her how old she was. Now Ethel is on her own, and has a nephew in town that visits all the time plus a neighbor that checks in by bringing here mail every day, yet she only has a housekeeper that stops by every two weeks and I could not believe how tidy, clean and well kept everything was. I mean she had poor vision and almost died several years ago and that morning she had even given herself a permanent and cooked her own meals.

Ethel will be 100 on October 10 and here she lives a simple life, still reading the newspaper from our hometown, and still able to remember most everything – except her address LOL. And as I drove out of town, I was reminded of that Rolling Stones song, for even though I hadn’t gotten all that I came for in mass quantities of Snow geese, I had achieved so much more and probably got what I needed. I also hopefully fostered a new friendship with some great people and found that a person I have known all my life and loved like family is still with us and back as a part of my life.

In the future I might be faced with the same dilemma that of honoring someone’s request that seems contrary to what I want and what I believe isn’t in their best interests. And I am sure there will be times where commitment between family members and friends aren’t what they should be but I hope that for me, and for you all, they will work out in the end. Life is too short for many of us. And while we strive to enjoy life and nature’s benefits, I just hope we can remember the people who matter in our lives, for you never know what the outcome of what you do today will have on the future. In both of my experiences this particular Sunday I truly felt blessed and hope that what I continue to try and do with and for others will pay off not for me but for them and the people they touch…