Speaker 1: Welcome to This Country Life. I'm your host, Brent Reeves
Speaker 1: from coon hunting to trot lining and just general country living.
Speaker 1: I want you to stay a while as I share
Speaker 1: my stories and the country skills that will help you
Speaker 1: beat the system. This Country Life is proudly presented as
Speaker 1: part of Meat Eaters Podcast Network, bringing you the best
Speaker 1: outdoor podcast the airways have to offer. All right, friends,
Speaker 1: pull you up a chair or drop that tailgate. I
Speaker 1: think I got a thing or two. The Teacher A
Speaker 1: tale of a few books. I've been influenced by different
Speaker 1: folks in my life. Places, I've been, things I've seen
Speaker 1: in experience, but there's been a lot of books that
Speaker 1: I've read over the years that have done the same.
Speaker 1: I'm going to talk about a few of them that
Speaker 1: I've enjoyed reading multiple times in a couple that might
Speaker 1: surprise you. But first I'm going to tell you story.
Speaker 1: The alcove at the back of the church sanctuary was
Speaker 1: where the cool kids sat on Sunday morning. Mostly high
Speaker 1: school kids and their friends and girlfriends took up the
Speaker 1: last few pews and if there was room in the
Speaker 1: first couple of rows that allowed us younger kids to
Speaker 1: see you had to stay on alert, however, because thumping
Speaker 1: ears was a big thing back then, and elementary school
Speaker 1: boys with short hair and ears poking out like wing
Speaker 1: nuts offered a tempting target for the upper classmen, and
Speaker 1: I didn't understand why until I became one of them,
Speaker 1: and then it was clear some ears just begged for it.
Speaker 1: And what better place to do it than in the
Speaker 1: house of our Lord, where the victim had to remain
Speaker 1: silent or face repercussions for interrupting the service at school
Speaker 1: the following day for being a snitch, and the perpetrator
Speaker 1: could seek forgiveness for his transg It was mighty convenient
Speaker 1: for all involved. On this Sunday, there were several older
Speaker 1: kids absent. The main ear thumper was one of them.
Speaker 1: I was glad too. I didn't know where he was.
Speaker 1: I hoped prison, but doubted i'd be that lucky. All
Speaker 1: I knew was on this Sunday. I had a plan
Speaker 1: that I had formulated in haste as we got out
Speaker 1: of the car for church, and the thumper being gone
Speaker 1: was only going to help me with my mission. I
Speaker 1: was twelve, wearing a coat and tie, and in the
Speaker 1: sleeve of my suit coat the latest issue of Field
Speaker 1: and Stream was wrapped around my forearm, hidden from everyone.
Speaker 1: Set me in Jesus. I was reading it when I
Speaker 1: left the house that morning, all the way to town
Speaker 1: from the farm, and just before we pulled into the
Speaker 1: parking lot, I decided to take it with me. While
Speaker 1: everyone else was listening to the sermon, I'd be reading
Speaker 1: Jean Hill talking about quail hunting. We still had quail
Speaker 1: back then in Southeast Arkansas, oh quail were mentioned in
Speaker 1: the Bible. That's how I justified it in my head
Speaker 1: that reading an outdoor magazine in church wasn't a bad thing.
Speaker 1: Twice the Good Lord save the Israelites by giving them
Speaker 1: a big mess of quail to eat. And the fishing articles. Well,
Speaker 1: those fishers of men that were the apostles, four of
Speaker 1: them started out as fishers of fish. A twelve year
Speaker 1: old had justified reading Filled to Stream in church with
Speaker 1: the lukewarm knowledge of the Bible. One of my friends
Speaker 1: sat beside me and his eyes bugged out of his
Speaker 1: head when I slipped that glossy periodical from the sleeve
Speaker 1: like a magician. I smiled at him, knowing that during
Speaker 1: the next forty five minutes he'd be sitting still, wishing
Speaker 1: he had his own magazine, and I'd be quail hunting
Speaker 1: and fly fishing for the duration of the service. He
Speaker 1: poked me with his elbow and asked me to let
Speaker 1: him see the magazine. I whispered to him to kick rocks.
Speaker 1: But if he could read fast enough, he could read
Speaker 1: with me. But I wasn't going to read it to
Speaker 1: him or wait for him to catch up. When I
Speaker 1: got ready to turn the page, the page would be turned.
Speaker 1: I gave him one last smug look before I turned
Speaker 1: my attention back to my magazine. He looked a little sire.
Speaker 1: Too bad, my magazine, my rules. Now this went on
Speaker 1: for a little while, me reading him trying to read,
Speaker 1: and me flipping the pages, knowing he hadn't finished the paragraph.
Speaker 1: I thought it was funny. The holder of the sneaked
Speaker 1: in magazine holds more than just a magazine. He holds
Speaker 1: all the power as well. And I wielded my power selfishly,
Speaker 1: with no regard for my friend, who desperately tried to
Speaker 1: keep up the pace. I'll admit some of the articles
Speaker 1: I didn't finish reading before turning the page, just to
Speaker 1: aggravate him. I'd catch him out of the corner my eye,
Speaker 1: his eyes feverishly following along and write in mid sentence.
Speaker 1: I turned the page just to see the frustration building here.
Speaker 1: It makes ol a big puff of air. But absolute
Speaker 1: power corrupts absolutely And after torturing him for thirty or
Speaker 1: more minutes, when I looked out of the corner of
Speaker 1: my eye, I saw my friend holding his Bible and
Speaker 1: watching the preacher contently. I was trying to contain my
Speaker 1: laughter looking at him paying attention in church Like all
Speaker 1: the other kids, we made fun of whatever loser. I
Speaker 1: looked back at my magazine that I kept lowering my lap,
Speaker 1: just in time to see a shadow cast over the
Speaker 1: top of the page and a pair of women's dress
Speaker 1: shoes appeared on the ornate carpet where my legs dangled
Speaker 1: above the floor. Those shoes looked like my mama's shoes.
Speaker 1: I was going to pay dearly for this. I looked
Speaker 1: over at my buddy, who would have seen her coming,
Speaker 1: but didn't say a word or warn me in any way.
Speaker 1: He had the most innocent look on his face as
Speaker 1: my mama snatched that magazine away from me, laid it
Speaker 1: on the seat, and ushered me to the family pew
Speaker 1: about halfway between the alcove and the pulpit. As I
Speaker 1: scooted past my grandparents on my walk of shame to
Speaker 1: take my seat, I looked back at my buddy, who
Speaker 1: was smiling at me my fielding stream. Opening his hands
Speaker 1: barely visible above the back of the pew in front
Speaker 1: of him, he bowed his head to read my magazine.
Speaker 1: I took my seat, and I bowed mine to pray
Speaker 1: I'd lived through this, and that's just how that happened.
Speaker 1: Literature was my favorite subject in high school, along with girls, Agriy, forestry,
Speaker 1: girls again, and football. In high school, if you took Agriy,
Speaker 1: you had the option to join the FFA, the Future
Speaker 1: Farmers of America. To join, you had to go through
Speaker 1: a week of school sponsored hazing at the direction of
Speaker 1: the upper classmen. It wasn't demeaning or dangerous just to
Speaker 1: write a passage during that week. The pledges were known
Speaker 1: as green hands, and for a week you had to
Speaker 1: wear a cardboard painted green hand pinned to your shirt,
Speaker 1: a spiney pine cone adorned a haystringed necklace that you
Speaker 1: wore around your neck. Your shirts were worn inside out
Speaker 1: and along with the pockets of your blue jeans or
Speaker 1: your overalls, A myriad of silly requirements and meaningless tasks
Speaker 1: that green hands and during the week to be counted.
Speaker 1: When Friday came as a full fledged member, now everyone
Speaker 1: who wanted to participate did so and no one complained.
Speaker 1: I loved it. We went on field trips and FFA
Speaker 1: sponsored contests at in state colleges summer camps, and got
Speaker 1: to get out of school and out of town, off
Speaker 1: the farm to see things and go places that at
Speaker 1: the time were a big deal like the State Fair rodeo,
Speaker 1: similar activities, but English class, especially literature and composition, and
Speaker 1: that was my favorite. I lived agri class. My life
Speaker 1: was the same as a FFA sponsored field trip every day.
Speaker 1: The only added bonus to actually being in FFA was
Speaker 1: getting the witness at somewhere else. In fact, some of
Speaker 1: those FFA field trips when I was in school was
Speaker 1: at our forum, like the time I raised catfish through
Speaker 1: a study sponsored by the Extension Service. I promised this
Speaker 1: episode is about literature, but let me tell you about
Speaker 1: this project first. The University of Arkansas System Cooperative Extension
Speaker 1: Service is a state wide network associated with the University
Speaker 1: of Arkansas's Division and Agriculture. Their mission is to provide
Speaker 1: research based information through non formal education to help all
Speaker 1: archansms improve their economic well being and their quality of life.
Speaker 1: Whether it's AG or four ahe family, consumer science, or
Speaker 1: community development. Whatever the government and they're here to help.
Speaker 1: But when they say it, they actually mean it. Now.
Speaker 1: Miss Jene Frisbee was the Extension Agent staff chairman for
Speaker 1: Bradley County and Warren, Arkansas, and she had held that
Speaker 1: position since God was a child and retired in nineteen
Speaker 1: ninety five. Her specialty was home economics, and she'd greet
Speaker 1: me every morning on radio station KWRF when I stayed
Speaker 1: at my grandparents' house in town. I'd be sitting at
Speaker 1: the table eating breakfasting He'd come Miss Jene with good morning, mister,
Speaker 1: and missus homemaker, it's time for your second cup of coffee.
Speaker 1: Then she had expounded on whatever her topic was for
Speaker 1: the day on a program. But the Extension Service was
Speaker 1: doing a fish farming study around commercial catfish farming. They
Speaker 1: supplied the material to build a floating cage similar in
Speaker 1: looks to a shark cage, with styrofoam floats supporting a
Speaker 1: two before framed Mashon enclosure that the fingerland sized catfish
Speaker 1: swam around in. Now. The county agent, mister Paul Cooper
Speaker 1: helped me build it, and I fed them according to
Speaker 1: a strict schedule. I made notations on a daily log,
Speaker 1: and after a period of time several months if I
Speaker 1: remember correctly, another extension agent involved with the project came
Speaker 1: to the farm. My forestry class came out for that trip,
Speaker 1: and we took samples from the enclosure wage and measured them,
Speaker 1: and that was it. Then all the fish were mine.
Speaker 1: I turned a lot of them, loosened the pond, but
Speaker 1: kept some in a cage at any time for several
Speaker 1: months afterwards. That we wanted to mess a catfish, I
Speaker 1: just go down and dip up another for supper, kind
Speaker 1: of like what Tim and I do now in the
Speaker 1: Arkansas River, except that project was a lot easier anyway.
Speaker 1: As many places and trips I took physically during school
Speaker 1: and FFA or any other class that afforded me the
Speaker 1: opportunity to step on a bus and go somewhere, none
Speaker 1: compared to English class in there. I traveled at any
Speaker 1: place I wanted to go, and some I was told
Speaker 1: to go and I never left the schoolhouse. In the
Speaker 1: eleventh grade and Miss Pat Hayworth's English class, we read
Speaker 1: The Red Badge of Courage and I was immediately transported
Speaker 1: back in time to the darkness that was the War
Speaker 1: between the States, which fed and inspired a lifelong fascination
Speaker 1: of history in the battles that were fought near where
Speaker 1: I grew up. I've always been a reader. My maternal
Speaker 1: grandfather was accurately described as a voracious reader. He read everything.
Speaker 1: My brothers both read a ton and I was no different.
Speaker 1: Still am. The impact of some of the books that
Speaker 1: I read has had a profound effect on my life.
Speaker 1: They garnered and fed a passion for exploration, an adventure,
Speaker 1: and helped shape me into the man I am today.
Speaker 1: Robert Ruark's The Old Man and the Boy is a
Speaker 1: prime example. It's about a boy in his grandpa's relationship
Speaker 1: hunting and fishing. The old man is the boy's teacher,
Speaker 1: and just like the boy in roue Ark's book, I
Speaker 1: played that part in real life, with my dad playing
Speaker 1: the part of the old man as he teaches the
Speaker 1: boy how to hunt and fish and just general life lessons.
Speaker 1: He teaches him conservation, responsibility, and stewardship of the resource
Speaker 1: all things I was taught at an early age. That
Speaker 1: book is profoundly good on several levels. It first ran
Speaker 1: his monthly articles in Field and Stream magazine and was
Speaker 1: compiled as a book afterwards in the late nineteen fifties.
Speaker 1: I first read that book in high school. The best
Speaker 1: part about reading the book so young is that when
Speaker 1: reading it now, I get to see that story from
Speaker 1: the old man's point of view. When I first read it,
Speaker 1: I only had one frame of reference, and that was
Speaker 1: from the boy. Here's a couple quotes that have stuck
Speaker 1: with me over the years. Anytime a boy is ready
Speaker 1: to learn about guns is the time he's ready, no
Speaker 1: matter how young he is. And you can't start too
Speaker 1: young to learn to be careful. I've told stories on
Speaker 1: here about hunting by myself when I was in elementary school,
Speaker 1: you know, ten or eleven years old, Like the time
Speaker 1: on a cloudy evening when I lost my horse after
Speaker 1: I dismounted and ran on foot from tree to tree
Speaker 1: behind our squirrel dog, Prissy, as she followed a timbering
Speaker 1: squirrel that was doing its dead level best to avoid
Speaker 1: riding out in my saddle bags. Once I finally got
Speaker 1: him shot out of a tree. I realized that I
Speaker 1: didn't know which direction I'd been running, and to walk
Speaker 1: out to get back to my horse before dark. I
Speaker 1: told Pricy to go find my horse, and in short
Speaker 1: order she did just that, running slap out of sight
Speaker 1: in the opposite direction I thought i'd come from. After
Speaker 1: circling tree after tree, looking up trying to find that
Speaker 1: running squirrel, she barked about one hundred yards away, and
Speaker 1: when I got to her, she was standing on a
Speaker 1: stump beside my horse. A large majority of the people
Speaker 1: who have lived a life far removed from my own
Speaker 1: that I've told that story to, when I get to
Speaker 1: the end, they don't even remark that Prissy the squirrel
Speaker 1: dog could understand English. They want to talk about how
Speaker 1: a ten year old boy gets a twenty two rifle
Speaker 1: and goes hunting by himself, which to me is the
Speaker 1: most insignificant part of that whole story. My age didn't
Speaker 1: have anything to do with it. I was taught from
Speaker 1: the beginning about gun safety. It was like learning to
Speaker 1: walk or tell time. I assure you, had I not
Speaker 1: been responsible enough to do it, my father wouldn't have
Speaker 1: allowed it. Here's another quote from that book. A gentleman
Speaker 1: starts down at his boots and works up to his hat.
Speaker 1: A gentleman is first of all polite. A sportsman is
Speaker 1: a gentleman first. But a sportsman basically is a man
Speaker 1: who kills what he needs, whether it's fish, bird, or
Speaker 1: an animal, or what he wants for a special reason.
Speaker 1: But he never kills anything just to kill it, and
Speaker 1: he tries to preserve the very same thing that he
Speaker 1: kills a little from time to time. The books call
Speaker 1: this conservation. It's the same reason why we don't shoot
Speaker 1: that tame covey of quail down to less than ten birds.
Speaker 1: Ruark references a gentleman in another passage like this, A
Speaker 1: gentleman never talks down to nobody, or even to anybody.
Speaker 1: That says anybody instead of nobody. A gentleman ain't greedy.
Speaker 1: A gentleman don't holler at anybody else's dogs. A gentleman
Speaker 1: pays his score as he goes. He don't take what
Speaker 1: he can't put back, and if he borrows, he borrows
Speaker 1: from banks. He never troubles his friends with his troubles.
Speaker 1: Now I get what he was saying in the last
Speaker 1: part about not troubling his friends with his troubles. But
Speaker 1: in far bid from me to correct one of the
Speaker 1: greatest writers I admire most. But I take the last
Speaker 1: line somewhat loosely. I want my friends to come to
Speaker 1: me first with an issue. If they're a true friend,
Speaker 1: I'm going to go to them. But Riarck talks about money,
Speaker 1: and hear's something about money that I learned from my
Speaker 1: dad when I was young, kind of in the same
Speaker 1: theme of the old man and the boy. But I
Speaker 1: worked for a fellow once that made promises he didn't keep,
Speaker 1: and he stole money that was meant for me through
Speaker 1: handshake deal, not a contract, so I had no legal
Speaker 1: recourses when we parted company. I stewed on it for
Speaker 1: a long time, quite some time. Times were pretty lean then,
Speaker 1: and that money would have helped my young family. All
Speaker 1: I could see was that clown stealing food from my kids,
Speaker 1: not stealing money from me. Months later, I was at
Speaker 1: my dad's barn putting up that more after more than
Speaker 1: one afternoon, and while I was making round after round
Speaker 1: cutting grass, I had had enough and I decided that
Speaker 1: when I finished the yard, I was going to drive
Speaker 1: to that man's house and give my money or give
Speaker 1: him some boxing lessons until I felt he'd receive the
Speaker 1: amount equal to what he owed me. I was walking
Speaker 1: out to my truck when my dad drove up and
Speaker 1: he asked me where I was going. I told him
Speaker 1: I was going to so and So's house to get
Speaker 1: my money. He said, oh, he decided to make it right.
Speaker 1: I said, no, sir, I decided to make it right.
Speaker 1: He don't know I'm coming. My dad said, boy, you
Speaker 1: sit down. We're gonna talk about and he asked me
Speaker 1: how much the man owed me, and I told him.
Speaker 1: He looked at me and said, that's the best money
Speaker 1: you ever spent. I looked at him like a calf
Speaker 1: looks at a new gate. I didn't get what he
Speaker 1: was saying. He said, I have no doubt that you
Speaker 1: can go to his house and give him the whooping
Speaker 1: he deserves. But you're gonna get in trouble. You're probably
Speaker 1: gonna lose your job, you ain't gonna get any of
Speaker 1: the money he owes you, and he'll wind up getting
Speaker 1: some more out of you. And if all it cost
Speaker 1: is what he stole from you, to find out what
Speaker 1: kind of person he is and how not to do
Speaker 1: business from now on, My son, that was money well invested.
Speaker 1: He was right, it was. I spoken more than once
Speaker 1: on how Wilson Rawls's book Where the Red Fern Grows
Speaker 1: snatched me up out of a desk by the gallaxies
Speaker 1: of my overalls in elementary school. The fire of that
Speaker 1: atomic Wedges Parks is still burning today, just as bright
Speaker 1: as it did then. I'm recording this and old whaling
Speaker 1: my tree, and walker Coonhoun is laying in his favorite
Speaker 1: spot beside my desk. Now, that passion was ignited by
Speaker 1: the community in which I lived, in the love I
Speaker 1: already possessed for hunting dogs, and that book helped me
Speaker 1: focus a portion of it toward coon hunting. And here
Speaker 1: I am, forty six years later, just as enamored with
Speaker 1: that practice, that book its message as I was when
Speaker 1: I first read it. Here's a few of my favorite
Speaker 1: quotes from Wilson Rawl's wonderful book. It's strange, indeed, how
Speaker 1: memories can lie dormant in a man's mind for so
Speaker 1: many years. Yet those memories can be awakened and brought
Speaker 1: forth fresh and new, just by something you've seen, or
Speaker 1: something you've heard, or the sight of an old familiar face.
Speaker 1: Now I have to tell y'all that is almost one
Speaker 1: hundred percent how this podcast comes to life. Each week,
Speaker 1: as I'm stumbling on my way around on this planet,
Speaker 1: something will remind me of something else, maybe from yesterday,
Speaker 1: last week, or more than likely from years gone by
Speaker 1: that triggers a memory. My notebook and my pencil are
Speaker 1: always ready, and I learned the hard way that when
Speaker 1: one of those occurrence happens, I have to log it immediately.
Speaker 1: I'll pull over on the side of the road, or
Speaker 1: get up out of bed, or just stop whatever I'm
Speaker 1: doing and write it down. Trusting myself to remember to
Speaker 1: make a note about it later has bit me in
Speaker 1: behind more than once. Here's another quote from that book
Speaker 1: that's one sentence long, but it speaks volumes about its subject.
Speaker 1: Here it is, I've learned that a hunting dog smells
Speaker 1: like a dog, and a sleeping dog smells all most humor.
Speaker 1: Now I read that, and to me, it's looking at
Speaker 1: the same thing with two sets of eyes, seeing the
Speaker 1: totality of what you're looking at. I think a lot
Speaker 1: of that ability comes from stacking birthdays on top of
Speaker 1: one another. There's nothing more peaceful than a sleeping dog,
Speaker 1: and I'm looking at one right now. That book is
Speaker 1: about a boy, but it's told from a narrator's perspective
Speaker 1: of looking back as an adult, and mister Raw's statement
Speaker 1: was more about how his heart saw his dogs when
Speaker 1: they were hunting than at rest. It described the bond
Speaker 1: he had with his dogs. Heck, it describes the bond
Speaker 1: I have with mine right now. I get emotional thinking
Speaker 1: about it. What better way to spend your time than
Speaker 1: with something that loves you unconditionally. You won't find that
Speaker 1: represented any more clearly than a four legged family member
Speaker 1: that doubles is a good hun dog. Now, I can't
Speaker 1: say that I learned all that from reading Where the
Speaker 1: Red Fern Grows, but I can tell you that book
Speaker 1: helped me understand and put a voice to what I
Speaker 1: was feeling. My favorite of all is this one. People
Speaker 1: have been trying to understand dogs ever since the beginning
Speaker 1: of time. One never knows what they'll do. You can
Speaker 1: read every day where a dog saved the life of
Speaker 1: a drowning child or laid down his life for his master.
Speaker 1: Some people call this loyalty. I don't. I may be wrong,
Speaker 1: but I call it love. The deepest kind of buff
Speaker 1: It's a shame that people all over the world can't
Speaker 1: have the kind of love in their hearts. He said.
Speaker 1: There would be no wars, slaughter or murder, no greed
Speaker 1: or selfishness. It would be the kind of world that
Speaker 1: God wants us to have, a wonderful world. A man,
Speaker 1: ain't that good? I sure think so. I hope you
Speaker 1: do too. I hope you think it's good enough to
Speaker 1: read those books yourself. And I didn't even get the
Speaker 1: surface scratched on the books that I've read or the
Speaker 1: poetry that I've enjoyed so much. Yep, I said poetry.
Speaker 1: Mss Mary Cupp, my twelfth grade English teacher, introduced me
Speaker 1: to a collection of poems by Robert Frost, a man
Speaker 1: whose work I enjoyed this day. There are others, too,
Speaker 1: but none I've enjoyed more than another Robert. But this
Speaker 1: one's nickname was the Bard of the Yukon, and his
Speaker 1: given name is Robert W. Servis. He was eighty four
Speaker 1: when he died in nineteen fifty eight. He wrote volumes,
Speaker 1: but a poem that he wrote titled The Men that
Speaker 1: Don't Fit In stands out to me the most I
Speaker 1: had read and reread that poem for years, And on
Speaker 1: my second trip to Saskatchewan for Bear Hunt Magazine as
Speaker 1: a cameraman for my old buddy Clay Bow make a
Speaker 1: non lethal shot on a bear and it would be
Speaker 1: the only shot we got all week. That bear lived,
Speaker 1: but I wasn't sure Clay would. It was a big
Speaker 1: investment for his magazine to come home empty handed. And
Speaker 1: we sat in silence on the bank of that lake,
Speaker 1: a two our boat ride away from camping, over two
Speaker 1: thousand miles from home. Clay was feeling defeated, disappointed in himself,
Speaker 1: and I'm sure wondering if what we were doing was
Speaker 1: what we were supposed to be doing. Now. That poem
Speaker 1: came to mind as I looked for something to cheer
Speaker 1: my friend up. Now, I quoted the first standard to him,
Speaker 1: and I'll do it for you now. But I looked
Speaker 1: at him and I said, there's a race of men
Speaker 1: that don't fit in a race that can't stay still.
Speaker 1: So they break the hearts of kith and kin, and
Speaker 1: they roam the world at will. They ranged the field,
Speaker 1: and they rove the flood, and they climbed the mountain's crest.
Speaker 1: Theirs is the curse of the Gypsy blood and they
Speaker 1: don't know how to rest. I followed that up with
Speaker 1: we were there because that was where we were supposed
Speaker 1: to be, and we were doing the things that we
Speaker 1: were meant to do. Whatever comes of it, comes of it,
Speaker 1: nothing more, nothing less. He gave me that old Thanks
Speaker 1: Pal fist bump. But it was still a long ride home.
Speaker 1: But looking around now six years later, I'd say it
Speaker 1: worked out pretty good. The turkeys in Mississippi for me,
Speaker 1: were quite challenging, to say the least. After finally hearing
Speaker 1: a couple and messing with one most of the morning
Speaker 1: of my hunt, me, Keith and Jordan heard one of
Speaker 1: them get sent to glory less than one hundred and
Speaker 1: fifty yards from where we sat. That shut our turkey
Speaker 1: down and put me in the highway headed home. Next
Speaker 1: stop Missouri and hopefully better luck. I thank y'all so
Speaker 1: much for listening and good luck in the turkey woods
Speaker 1: and the catfish water. I'm about to jump on them
Speaker 1: both to all four feet until next week. This is
Speaker 1: Brent Reeve signing off. Y'all be careful