Rediscovering Christmas - In a Duck Blind

REDISCOVERING CHRISTMAS IN A DUCK BLIND
By Mike Faulk

The Christmas weekend duck hunting trip to Reelfoot Lake was conceived in the notion that the company of good friends would, in some measure, compensate for the absence of children during the holiday. On this strategy, Steinbeck’s words come to mind: “the best laid plans of mice and men go awry.”

Mine is a life in transition. The kids are grown but haven’t seen fit to bestow upon me the gift of grandchildren. Neither was home last Christmas. The Christmas before was so very different for us all in that their family was no more – divorce after thirty years. The children and I celebrated Christ’s birth last weekend when both were home with significant others.

Best friend Art Swann and I decided to join college and political buddies for a Reelfoot Lake duck hunt to include Christmas Eve. We knew there would be plenty of jocularity, tall-tales told and repeated, good food, and best of all – good company. Our return would be in advance of the actual Christmas day – a prospect still pleasing to our ever-patient mothers.

“Seek and ye shall find” is the biblical principle I expected to operate here. These guys are very much loved ones. Art and I have hunted and fished together six to 12 weekends a year for over thirty years now. Tom Anderson is my children’s godfather. John Ryder is the political Godfather of our merry little band of politicos. In short, I sought the blessing of friendship to fill my Christmas cup.

Instead of the biblical principle, I re-learned a secular one: “you find it when you’re not looking.”

Art booked this hunt with the duck-calling Douglas’s. Warren Douglas is a UT Martin graduate like Tom, Art and me – though his graduation was a couple of decades after ours. His guide service was recommended by the folks at Boyette’s Resort. The price was very reasonable at $125 per hunter per day. And, he had a blind exclusively for us [it’s not that we’re snobby or anything of that sort - most other hunters prefer dismemberment or worse to sharing a duck blind with lawyers, judges, politicians and the like].

The unknown bonus from using Warren Douglas came in a most unexpected form; namely his dad, Leonard, and his ten-year old son, Tyler.

Leonard Douglas is a veteran duck call maker. His duck calls are made for the duck hunter – one at a time. Somehow each call seems to embody the storied history of Reelfoot Lake - the outdoorsman’s paradise created by an act of God in the earthquakes of 1811 and 1812.

Subtle in his offering, Leonard Douglas regaled us with tale upon tale of this Tennessee duck-hunting Mecca. He was an encyclopedia of the geography, folklore, and hunting legends of this lake formed when the Mississippi River flowed backwards. His presence, including his cooking, was every bit as good as finding an extra, unanticipated present under the old Christmas tree.

Initially, I was skeptical about the presence of a child in a duck blind filled with firearms. He’d hear some language he shouldn’t. He’d be exposed to some subjects he shouldn’t. And selfishly, I wasn’t particularly interested in helping baby-sit a ten year old on Christmas Eve when the sugar high alone would render Ridlin ineffective.

At his tender age, Tyler is a better duck caller than me. His tone and notes are crisp. His cadence is more duck-like. As soon as he learns which notes to blow and when to blow them, he will be an effective duck caller. He hovers near his dad watching and hearing every move, every mannerism, ever word. Tyler is a mini-Warren. He also dearly loves this Papaw.

But mostly, Tyler was an anxious fourth grader. Anxious about when presents can be opened, when Santa will come, how Santa will come if there’s no snow, what a “snow storm” means, when Christmas dinner will be ready, and all other matters and things related to Christmas.

Rather than becoming annoyed at hearing a thousand questions and use of the word “Daddy” ten thousand times, my reaction to Tyler was much different. It took me back to days with Katy and Andy, circa 1991. If only for a couple of days, I was able to relive those days of my life when Dad was a hero, knew all, and was to be emulated at all costs. It reminded of me of the grandest gift of my lifetime - the gift of children - and the greatest gift for all time – the gift of his child.

Tyler’s presence was my second unanticipated Christmas present. Watching Tyler, Warren and Leonard relate was the third unexpected Christmas present from this trip. Good things come in threes. The Douglas boys reminded me I am truly blessed this and all Christmases past.

ADDENDUM: You can hunt with Warren Douglas and the rest of his family if you’re as lucky as I was, by contacting him at (731) 253-6862.

- First published January 2008 Tennessee Valley Outdoors