Willie grabbed his cap, plopped in onto his head and buttoned his jacket. He picked up his gun and headed out the door. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving and he wanted it to be a special day for his little family. Surely he would find a turkey wandering about in the woods.
He entered the copse of trees just south of the house and walked easy-footed across the pine laden carpet beneath his feet. He carried his gun under the crook of his arm, ready to fire if he spied his prey. He must have walked a long way into the woods before he heard the familiar gobble-gobble of a turkey on the prowl.
He tiptoed silently, careful not to make a sound. There it was...the turkey's head peeking just over the little rise in the ground. He stopped. The turkey, sensing danger, halted, craned it's neck and peered across the landscape. Willie already had his gun in place. With one bullet he brought the turkey down.
As he approached the house, his wife, Dovie, hearing his footsteps, swung open the door.
"Look what I have for our Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow," Willie called out, a big grin on his face.
"And, that's a fine one, too," she answered.
Their meal the following day was a grand feast. Family and friends gathered around the kitchen table. Willie bowed his head and thanked the good Lord for all his blessings, his dear wife, his little daughter and especially for this fine turkey that sat in the center of
their table.
The picture was taken of my Dad. I am not sure of the year but it was sometime in the late 1920s. He died in 1933, just a short time before I was born. So, this post is to my Dad, whom I never knew but who has influenced my life always.
I am linking to Linda Kay's Wit and Wisdom, a place to share photos and stories that relate to them. Thanks, Linda Kay.
He entered the copse of trees just south of the house and walked easy-footed across the pine laden carpet beneath his feet. He carried his gun under the crook of his arm, ready to fire if he spied his prey. He must have walked a long way into the woods before he heard the familiar gobble-gobble of a turkey on the prowl.
He tiptoed silently, careful not to make a sound. There it was...the turkey's head peeking just over the little rise in the ground. He stopped. The turkey, sensing danger, halted, craned it's neck and peered across the landscape. Willie already had his gun in place. With one bullet he brought the turkey down.
As he approached the house, his wife, Dovie, hearing his footsteps, swung open the door.
"Look what I have for our Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow," Willie called out, a big grin on his face.
"And, that's a fine one, too," she answered.
Their meal the following day was a grand feast. Family and friends gathered around the kitchen table. Willie bowed his head and thanked the good Lord for all his blessings, his dear wife, his little daughter and especially for this fine turkey that sat in the center of
their table.
The picture was taken of my Dad. I am not sure of the year but it was sometime in the late 1920s. He died in 1933, just a short time before I was born. So, this post is to my Dad, whom I never knew but who has influenced my life always.
I am linking to Linda Kay's Wit and Wisdom, a place to share photos and stories that relate to them. Thanks, Linda Kay.
Oh I am so glad you wrote this, Mom! I love reading the story of my grandfather's hunting foray. Love getting a glimpse into their lives....have always loved the photo. Wish he had smiled! :-)
ReplyDeleteWhen pictures were taken back then it was not a snap and run sort of thing. You had to stand very still for awhile during the picture taking and people never smiled. I think it was because it was such a serious thing to have your picture taken.
DeleteThank you for sharing.....I enjoyed that! Happy thanksgiving! !!
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing.....I enjoyed that! Happy thanksgiving! !!
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing, lovely post. Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family!
ReplyDeleteOh, my Goodness, Miss Latane!
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely memory and a stunning legacy from such a strong, caring family man. I can see the strength and dedication in his face and those hard-working hands, and can almost smell the woodsmoke, woodsy scent from those hard-worn workin' clothes. I'd almost bet that jacket has a deep "squirrel pocket" sewn in across the back---how well I remember those, as all the limp furry little bodies were reached out and laid onto the cleaning table out back, and the acrid scent of the steaming insides dumped into the bucket..
You bring such memories for me, as well, of the one Thanksgiving my young farm-boy husband brought home a wild turkey for us. He was so proud of it, for he had simply shot its head off, and every ounce of the meat was perfect---plus it was never frozen---he said it probably.stayed warm thorough the cleaning right to the oven the next day. And I DO think it was one of the best I've ever eaten.
I'm so moved by your story and your picture---you never met him, but he lives on in this photograph, with his love for his family just shining through. What a blessing.
rachel