This One’s for Henry

Jenelle's parents were at our house this past weekend. Ray was helping me build a little building to put our glass and stuff in and Jody was doing yardwork, working in the garden and helping Jenelle around the house.

It was the last week of turkey season too, but since Jenelle's parents were here I had decided to give up on turkey hunting for the year. It hadn't been a good season for me. I had gotten out there, but without any luck. 

Monday and Tuesday were exceptionally hot and then for the rest of the week it rained and cooled off, but we worked on the building all week and got soaked a few times.

Jenelle's parents left around seven on Saturday morning. It was still windy, raining and cold and daylight was already here, but since it was the last day of turkey season I thought I'd slip out for a few hours and give it one last shot. If I didn't go I'd be kicking myself later for not trying.

Turkey season in Maryland always ends on May 23, which means that it can fall on any day of the week depending on what year it is. This year it fell on a Saturday, which isn't usually the case. Deer season on the other hand always goes from a Saturday to a Saturday, allowing the weekend warriors more time in the woods. Hold onto that thought for just a minute.

I hunkered down by a hemlock tree and tried to call, but the wind and the rain muffled everything. I couldn't even hear a bird singing. My mind took me back to May 24, years ago.

I was just a young feller then, still trying to get my first gobbler. I had taken a handful of fall turkeys at this point, but wasn't able to outwit a spring gobbler with my calls. It was around this time that my mom and Dad along with some others decided to start a small church just across the state line in the little town of Boynton. Boynton was a somewhat rundown old coal town. My parents and the others had one thing in common in that they loved Jesus and they wanted to share God's love in this little town where peace and love weren't easily found. Two of those other people were Henry and Mary Emma Brenneman. And Henry was a turkey hunter.

I wasn't happy about this church thing, not being able to go to church with the friends that I grew up with and having to go somewhere where I didn't know anyone. And it was every Sunday morning and Wednesday night! It was during this time too, where I was running off the rails a little bit in my own life, drinking and getting into trouble and being a little rebellious.

Thankfully, Henry and Mary Emma were committed to loving everyone, including me. I remember on one occasion, Mary Emma saying, “Dwight, we don't care what you do, we're still going to love you”. And they did. And it made a difference.

They were always friendly and interested in what was going on in my life. Through the months of April and May, Henry and I would talk about turkeys almost every Sunday and Wednesday night. He would give me pointers and tips, and even called a time or two just to see how I was doing and if I had gotten my turkey.

Towards the end of the season, I was getting in on the same gobbler with hens pretty regularly, hearing the hens cluck and yelp, making the gobbler gobble, but I just couldn't get them to come close enough to even see them. But finally one Wednesday morning I did. First came some hens and then the gobbler. He strutted and gobbled and I would call and the hens would cut back. They were about eighty yards away and not close enough to shoot at. Back and forth, back and forth. Eventually they tired of the game and went up and over a knoll and out of my life. But I was getting close! So close!

I couldn't wait to tell Henry about the encounter that evening! As I was telling him the story he had a funny grin on his face. That's really exciting, he said, but you know, today's the 24th. The season went out yesterday! 

We got a good chuckle out of that and over the years he's often reminded me that the season goes out on May the 23rd.

As I sat there in the rain, recollecting that memory, I remembered another time when Henry told me not to give up, even if the turkeys don’t gobble. He illustrated this with his story about how he was hunting and it was raining and he had crawled under a hemlock to get out of the rain and called from time to time. After calling a couple of times, a jake came in and just like that, he had dinner in the bag.

I sat and thought about Henry. The main reason being that he passed away last week.

I thought about how he played a part in my life, not only in making me a better turkey hunter, but in showing me how to love and care about others.

For the most part, I try not to shoot jakes, letting them grow up to be birds that gobble their heads off. But sitting under that hemlock in the rain, I thought to myself, if a jake comes in this morning, I'm going to shoot this one for Henry.

But none came in.

So instead of shooting a jake, I'm writing this story for Henry.

Thanks for showing me that those little things like taking the time to care or how a little phone call can really make a difference.

And if there's a May 23rd up there in heaven, well, I hope that you tag out early every year!