Here in Kentucky, next Saturday is the opening day of gun season for deer, this year there will be an emptiness however, since this will be the first season without dad. I have so many fond memories of hunting with him, we hunted everything that there was a season for, but deer hunting was always special. When I was a kid, deer were few and far between in Kentucky, I had never even seen a live deer out in the wild. In 1969 my dad was holding a revival in the small western Kentucky town of Tulu, one of the congregation asked dad if he would like to go deer hunting one morning, of course dad jumped at the opportunity to go, and killed his first deer, it was a small four point buck. I remember mom waking me up early one morning and taking me outside to see a deer strapped on the trunk of the old white Pontiac, dad had drove in late the night before and I was asleep. I wasn't even sure what it was at first, I remember all the neighbors coming over to check it out because in was a rare sight to see in Louisville at that time.
Over the next 40 years I always looked forward to deer season and hunting with dad, we harvested a lot of deer over the years together, the last couple of years dad could no longer hunt, but when he felt like it I'd drive to the power line that runs across the farm and set in the truck with him so he could enjoy it. He taught me so many things about hunting and life on those trips that he will be missed so much. Now it's time for me and my son to continue the tradition that he started with me.
Until next time,
Tim