With Dad on a Deer Stand by Steve Chapman

Author:Steve Chapman
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780736953139
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers

11

Ain’t Nothin’ Like the Last One

by Steve Chapman

Standing at around 6′4″, Jeff was a mountain of a man with broad shoulders, thick neck, and a bushy, red beard. His massive hands seemed permanently stained by his work as a Pennsylvania farmer. His boots were well worn and held the evidence that he’d likely come straight from the barn to the church where I was to speak at a wild game dinner that evening. As Jeff was telling me a few details about himself, the event sponsor came up, put his arm over Jeff’s shoulder, and said to me, “Glad the two of you are getting to know each other already ’cause we’re going over to this man’s place tomorrow morning for breakfast before you head back to Tennessee.”

At daybreak the next day we were pulling into a long, gravel driveway that led to a little brick structure sitting at the base of a tall hill. The sponsor could tell I was a little puzzled about the site of the building since it didn’t look like someone’s home. It looked more like a clubhouse.

“This is not where Jeff lives,” he explained. “He lives on down the road in a huge, old farmhouse. This is the place he and his family and friends gather to deer hunt. This old, brick house holds a lot of memories. I’m grateful to be on the list of the guys that headquarter here during our rifle season.”

On the metal door of the building was a sign that read “Hunters Only.” I felt right at home as we walked in. Once inside, the smell of sausage, eggs, biscuits, and coffee permeated the air, along with the wonderful aroma of the firewood that crackled in the freestanding, potbellied stove.

There were a couple of six-foot, homemade, cafeteria-type tables placed in the center of the room, where a dozen or so men were sitting. They turned to greet us, the expressions on their faces relaxed and welcoming. It was easy to see the camaraderie they enjoyed with one another was something they cherished as much as they valued the air they breathed. It was a delightful gathering of like-minded men, the kind of group most die-hard hunters would enjoy being part of.

The humor among the men was especially infectious. It seemed that each one had a joke to tell that they’d just heard. One of my favorites was the story a younger fellow told that he’d gotten from an email.

Seems there was a wife who texted her husband and said, “Windows frozen. What to do?”

The husband texted back, “Pour warm water.”

The wife texted back a few minutes later. “Now the whole computer is messed up!”

The noise that erupted was music to my ears. Hardly anything is as pleasing as the sound of a group of men enjoying a good laugh. After a few more well-told tales, it was time to chow down on the feast that had been prepared by the camp cook. Everyone quieted down, one of the fellows

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