The Itchy Trigger Finger

Vernon Holt

Gone But Not Forgotten
Hunting is serious business, however on rare occasion “stuff” happens that results in a departure from the serious nature of our sport..

Such an event occurred in the mid 1950’s when three co-workers and I met, as we often did, for a hunt in Camden County Ga.. We had the distinct privilege of hunting a 50,000 acre tract of timberland (Bertha Mineral-Silco Tract) which held a variety and an abundance of game.

Don’t recall what we hunted early that morning, but by mid-morning we decided to do some duck hunting. This coastal area was dotted with 1 to 2 acre timbered ponds which held a foot or two of water all winter long. These ponds almost always held Wood Ducks in abundance.

As we quietly approached this pond we knew we were in for some good sport as we could hear them squealing and splashing in the water. As was our practice we split up so as to have all four of us approaching the pond in four different locations. In effect we were to have the pond surrounded. Perfect set-up.

Cover was adequate so as to allow us to get very near the waters edge without being detected. The silence was broken by the splashing of water and the whirring of wings then an instant volley of at least a dozen rounds of 12 gauge shot shells.

As the sound of gunfire subsided, a very frightened Pileated Woodpecker flew from my side of the pond across the water and headed for points unknown. Three quick shots rang out and the poor critter came crashing down and splashed into the pond.

Instantly, voices sounded out, “who shot that woodpecker ??”. Laughter broke out. One voice was not being heard. The only serious minded guy in the group could be heard mumbling something that seemed incoherent.

By this time we had gathered and the group enjoyed the laugh of a lifetime at the expense of the serious minded Ace Thigpen who remained virtually speechless for some time. He freely admitted that in his anxiety he had swung on and made an excellent shot at the expense of one very frightened woodpecker.

As often as this group found themselves together, for many years afterward, we always relived this story and enjoyed a good laugh together.

The serious minded hunter who provided us with this memory is no longer with us. He passed on to the happy hunting ground about five years ago.

I am hopeful that James Flowers who is a member of Woody’s reads this so that he can pass this story along to his father who knows all of the principals involved in this account.

Vernon
 

ramblinrack

Senior Member
i enjoyed that mr vernon, as i do all of your tales of yore!
keep them coming. btw, i know you're curious as to why i'm not on the job at daylight as usual. i'm fixin' to go get my boat out of the water and hopefully find a SAFE place to hide it. wish me luck!

:(
 

leo

Retired Woody's Mod 7/01-12/09
Fine Story Vernon

Thanks for sharing :clap:

leo
 

stumpshooter

Senior Member
Good-un Vernon, Reminds me of when I wuz in Alaska duck hunting and saw a shadow on the pond and pointed my gun up and there wuz a bald eagle. Sure am glad I didn't have an itchy trigger finger though. :flag:
 

GeauxLSU

Senior Member
So what does a pilleated woodpecker taste like? :bounce:
Good un.
Hunt/fish safely,
Phil
 

Timberman

Senior Member
That's good...almost as good as the story where during fall season you punted that hen turkey when it flushed on top of you like a quail. What was the term you used...Catapulted? :D :bounce: :D
 
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