My Renaissance be damned!
By Bob Zettler
May 8, 2014

re·nais·sance noun, often attributive \ˌre-nə-ˈsän(t)s, -ˈzän(t)s, -ˈsäⁿs, -ˈzäⁿs, ˈre-nə-ˌ, chiefly British ri-ˈnā-sən(t)s\ the Renaissance
1. the period of European history between the 14th and 17th centuries when there was a new interest in science and in ancient art and literature especially in Italy
2. a situation or period of time when there is a new interest in something that has not been popular in a long time
3. a period of new growth or activity

Twenty-four years ago today, my life changed.  It changed dramatically.  It wasn't something that came about overnight as it had been building for awhile and probably had its origin somewhere back in my childhood when I swore I would never be like my own Father in some ways.  Yet, it took my own daughter to set the wheels in motion…

Now, I have to go back to the previous Friday, May 4, 1990, where after taking the family out to eat, we came home around 7:30.  If I recall correctly, my 11-month old son wasn’t feeling all that well and my wife wasn't either.  But I had a Missouri Turkey Tag and really wanted to get out for the last weekend to hunt with my sister-in-laws husband, Bill, way down in southeastern Missouri.  So even though we had been at odds over the past several months or more, I asked if it was okay and she replied, “Go, if you must.”

Making sure that she could handle everything, I rushed and got things together and headed out the door only to discover 20 miles down the road I had their cough medicine in my van.  Headed back and dropped it off and I was on my way!  Now Bill had a house on Lake Wappapello and they hunt the Mark Twain forest lands nearby but I had never killed a Tom Turkey in Missouri and had been several times with him and his family and friends over the years – my wife and I had been married right at 10 years that June 7 – so hopes were high. Yet, as I left my wife and children, there was a part of me that wished it was just the children and me as she and I had been on a rocky road for several years, but as I had grown up in a family just like us, it seemed natural for us to bicker…

Anyway, I arrived late and slept in the van so as not to disturb anyone.  And around 4 AM, they came out and got me, we had some breakfast and headed out to the woods.  Now I have to admit, Bill, Mickey and Dale were damn good hunters but no one had ever scored a bird during the times I had hunted with them – and for the most part, we hunted alone and separately.

Now I set off towards the western edge of the woods with my 12.5-pound Ithaca Mag-10 over my shoulder well before light began to break.  Now I do not know about you, but I hate the wind and it was pretty darn windy this morning. Yet, I set out and began to walk the fire-trails, sitting and calling, then moving on to the next spot.  These trails were up on the ridges for the most part so I should be able to hear a bird from some distance if it weren't for the damned wind!

I do not recall the time now, but it was probably around 7:30 AM when I came to the edge of a ridge and saw a Tom at the same time I barely heard him gobble and he wasn't more than a 100-yards away down below me!!  I instantly froze and when he was looking elsewhere, stepped back and sat my frame down up against a big tree.  And as I got my calls out, a Hen flew out of nowhere and roosted in the tree I was sitting against!  Who am I to compete with a live decoy, so I let her do her calls as I listened to him get more and more excited down below.  It wasn't long before the ugliest - to this day still – Tom poked his head and neck up at the edge of the ridge and I let loose with 2.25 ounces of lead at him!  The Hen pooped on me as she flew off as I ran to admire my first ever Tom from Missouri!!  Tagged him and set out for where they parked the Bronco to await the adulation's from my hunting partners.

 That afternoon we celebrated, well, we always celebrated but this time I didn't have to get up the next morning and we all drank liberally, shot off our guns (not necessarily in that order but…), and had a wonderful meal before retiring for the night.  I slept in.

Around mid-morning, I took off as now I had an outdoor writer’s conference to attend at the Eagle Creek Resort on Lake Shelbyville which began that afternoon.  Now I had to deal with a dead, plucked and gutted turkey.  Fortunately, the Resort allowed me to store it in their cooler and I socialized with the rest of the guys and representatives from the Department of Conservation (now DNR).  I even called my wife to see how everyone was but as the children were napping and I only heard from her.  Once again, the guys and I had a great time that evening where the libations flowed and stories were told, and told…

Part of the Monday’s events was the opportunity to go Crappie Fishing with guides and I (of course) took advantage of this!  And wouldn't you know it, he and I caught the most fish and now I had to deal with a bunch of Crappie AND a dead turkey.  So I drove up the road and bought a cheap Styrofoam cooler and iced down my fish.  Don’t remember much else of that day but remember I was cloud nine what with a Turkey and a cooler of fish to take home on Tuesday morning when I returned to Springfield and to the realities of work and home life…

Now I had taken Monday as a vacation day and instead of heading home late that night, I decided to head into work straight from Shelbyville.  Not a bad deal for me as like I said, home life hadn't been that great for quite awhile.  We had fought over the most trivial of crap and both of us were fed up.  Now she had gone by herself to counseling several times over the years I had known her, and again while we were married, but I never felt the need to go as she was the one with problems, not me I told myself.

Then came that day several weeks earlier.  It was like any other weekend. I was busy doing things around the house as was my wife.  And then it came.  My daughter asked me to play catch with her in the backyard and for the umpteenth time I said later as I was busy.  Busy putting a roof over everyone’s head, clothes on their backs and food on the table.  And every now and then going hunting or being active in one of the many organizations I was affiliated with like DU, AGLOW, Parkland College Alumni Association and the like.

But then it was like someone hit me in the gut with a baseball bat!  It hit me – literally and figuratively – that I had become just like my own Father.  A man possessed with providing for the family and others that he never had time for me and us.  I mean it when I say that I do not recall playing ball together with him or any other activity unless it centered on something he was doing.  And that was what I swore from maybe the age of ten that I would NEVER do to my children!  Yet, now, I realized that indeed I had somehow lost sight of that oath and I must need help to break free of those bonds.  Bonds that shackled me from being the Father to my children and the husband to my wife.

It was like I had the wind knocked out of me when I went and said to my wife that she was right and that she could go ahead and make that appointment with a counselor for us.  Now while I started to let that sink in, it would be several weeks before an appointment could be arranged and it was set for…you guessed it, May 8.

So here I am on Cloud Nine at the office that morning, what with just having a wonderful three days of hunting, fishing, partying and spending time with people I truly liked or loved like a brother.  So I decide to call my wife and see if we she wanted me to pick her up or were we going in separate cars.  I will never forget what she said, “Oh, you haven’t been home yet?”  As I said I hadn't with the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, she then said, “I have left you.”

My heart stopped as I had just did a 180 emotionally.  I think I said I will see her at the appointment but I knew I had to get out of the office and head home.  Well, the house was there but all except my office upstairs and our former bedroom was empty.  Sure the garage was still full of crap but everything, with the exception of a needlepoint on the dining/kitchen wall that said, “Love is tasting the tears when another cries” or something to that effect, and a 45 RPM record in the driveway with the hit, “Crying at the Chapel” by Elvis.

Still in shock and disbelief, I screamed over to the appointment and when I sat in the room with my future ex-wife and the counselor, I didn't know whether I was going to jump out of the window or throw her through it!  That poor counselor.  She had no idea she was going to be faced with this.  And even though I was in this state of shock, that epiphany I had experienced several weeks before held me back from doing further damage and I began a long road of change. Change from within, and back then, even on the outside, for I truly did not want to have my children continue to experience what I had - and deep down inside I knew I needed help to be a better person.

 Now I won’t belabor the events preceding, nor will I go into all that went on afterwards, but suffice to say I believe I made a lot of changes, learned a lot about myself and why I had acted the way I had, and then became (I believe) a better person.  No, we didn't stay married and I will always regret not making the effort earlier to seek out assistance (counseling) but am DAMN glad I did it when I did for I cannot imagine continuing to live my life like I had and hurting the ones I loved anymore like I had – no, I just do new different stupid things but at least I continue to try to learn and be a better person!

So today, May 8, marks a big change in my life and of my children.  A date I initially forgot about as I went through a long period of counseling and so many changes back then but it all of sudden took on meaning for me years ago as my humor kicked in.  Yes, that had been the last time I hunted with Bill (he had no idea what was going on back in Springfield) even though we remained friends.  Yes, that might have been the last time I also used that Mag-10 for turkey hunting as I started to use my Mossberg 835.  And, yes, then nine years later my daughter came to live with me followed by my son four years later where I quickly learned even more about myself as a Father, and as a man.

No, it hasn't been easy as I have no other family to support me and pretty much go it alone and still make mistakes.  My Mother had died in 1984, and while all the changes were going on in that May of 1990; my own Father died the next month on June 14, 1990.  I don’t mention this to garner sympathy but to demonstrate that when faced with adversity one must “do what you have to do” in order to survive, which is what my Father told me in response to my questions about all he and I was faced with at the time as he was dying. As the stresses of life continued to harass me in the years since, I have found that my Dark Humor has kept me going leading to one of my nicknames, “Dark Cloud.”

As such, maybe 10 years ago, after I noticed the anniversary date, I began to try and always go turkey hunting on May and told others, “I go out and try to shoot something” to commemorate this anniversary.  No, I am not bitter, nor have I been regarding the end of that marriage, but it was my way to make light of a serious and life-changing event where so many lives were upturned and might never have been IF I had made changes in my life earlier…or maybe not.

Again, I am damn glad I made the changes I did that began back in 1990 at the age of 37 and not to have waited till now, when I am 60.  It was painful, it took time, it was costly but it was worth it – for my family and especially for me!  And this year, instead of heading out to the field and woods to kill a turkey, I was at work and the day passed without fanfare.  Yes, I will try and continue to take time to reflect on my life and make adjustments as I can in the future and hope others can learn from my actions.  No, I continue to make new mistakes and sometimes get a little put out when others do not live up to their potential or fail to live by the Golden Rule as I “try” to.  Yet, I hope everyone takes something from my words, that it is never too late and your are never too old to change.  That looking back can make it possible to live a better life, no matter how painful the past might be.

And, ironically, what brought this to mind was that yesterday I got back my Mag-10 that I took in awhile back to get checked and cleaned.  Right now, while it still has many of the nicks, scratches and dents earned over the maybe 30 years I have owned it, my Mag-10 came back to me re-blued, clean, buffed and ready for another 30 years!

God, I hope so…for the both of us.

Today in History for 8th May 1990
Historical Events
- Cuyahoga County voters approve sin tax to build Cleveland Gateway.
- Reindependence Day of Estonia.

Famous Deaths
- Tomas O'Fiach, [Tomas Seamus Fee], Irish cardinal-archbishop, died.

A Robert A. Heinlein quote, “You live and learn. Or you don’t live long.”