The Good Life

This has been one of your old guy columnist’s favorite weeks of the year. The leftovers from the family’s Thanksgiving feast were enjoyed again. Our favorite cranberry salad, the few remaining special pastry rolls, chunks of turkey for sandwiches and small pieces of cold pie. Then the ultimate Grannie’s turkey noodle soup made from the essence of boiling the bones for stock. It is a favorite repast. Now the menu will shift to tidbits of Christmas-themed holiday treats and yes I am a fan of the old-fashioned fruitcake complete with hints of citron in it. Our grandkids not so much.

Ah pshaw! It looks like a tradition of some thirty years plus is going to go bust. My friend Shockey, a former Air Force buddy, called to inform that the COVID thing has made it impossible for “deer camp” to happen this year. It has been on and off now for a month. Details like a new two-week mandatory quarantine for Pennsylvanians after travel (to Nebraska of all things!) makes too long to be away from his job putting the kibosh on Tommy. Jerry flies in from West Virginia but the two hours each way changing flights in airports puts an unacceptable risk from exposure to COVID for him. “Not worth the risk” his reply. So it was down to two, Shockey from Illinois and Jeff from Wisconsin made too small a number of hunters for the style that they like to pursue in our grassy canyons. Bummer all the way around.

The tradition of “deer camp” started back in the early 1980s when your columnist was enjoying working the family farm just south of McCook. Shockey had been a B-52 bomber pilot in the sister squadron to my KC-135 tanker squadron of which I had been the commander at our small airbase on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Shockey came to my attention when he invited my family to his annual “Water skiing and beer drinking school of instruction” each year. He held it Big Bay Lake north of Marquette and the water was always cold. Nevertheless, our youngest daughter learned to water ski and we all had a great time skiing and boating. A big attraction was sitting around a great bonfire each evening and just enjoying each other.

Later Shockey was stationed at Omaha. He and several of his buddies, including “The Chief” who was the senior gunner in all SAC had taken a black powder season hunting trip to the Wildcat Hills of Western Nebraska in pursuit of deer and the trip turned out miserable cold and wet due to unending snow and bad cold weather. Shockey called to tell me the sordid details so I invited him and his buddies to “camp” in my open front machinery shed there on our farm for the next year. It was a great success with them in their tent campers, sheltered from the elements and enjoying a big bonfire each evening. Their luck was good and they limited-out shooting their modern versions of ancient-style muskets. I think that the storytelling and enjoying adult beverages in front of the evening fire was also a big highlight.

Over the years, Shockey retired from the Air Force and pursued a career as a United Airlines pilot. Still and an evolving number of buddies held Nebraska deer camp with us each year. Eventually several of their sons came of age and joined the hunting crew. Upon my retirement from farming, deer camp moved to my hangar at the airport. It had the essentials, a kitchen, a bathroom with a shower and lots of space to set up their cots.

Gregarious Shockey plus his buddies have made friends around the area. Hillside Perks in Culbertson became the favored breakfast place in part because Marie created a special “hunter’s breakfast menu” just for them. Her husband Bob’s farm also has a large windbreak with a good population of deer to harvest. The forest along the Republican River provided good habitat. Friends in Hayes County shared their canyon lands so variety produced good results.

Like many other good things in life all too often come to an end. Such is our tradition of deer camp looks to have suffered the same fate. Still the memories remain and our lives are richer from having had the experience.

The twenty-four-hour news cycle newscasters are seemingly enjoying talking about the fraud of our recent election. Dead people voting, mail-in ballots with no trace of whence they came oh the list goes on and on. Court cases are being filed concerning the results. Unfortunately, it all causes frustration on our minds that the last may not have been a free and fair election. Voting and an honest tally of the votes cast is foundational to our 230+-year-old Democratic Republic and we all have a stake in it being free and fair. The doubt created by the nonstop-talking heads is simply not healthy for our nation’s future. Fortunately in our own state of Nebraska we can believe that it all has been honest and fair. Oh but we are privileged to live in this happy place.

That is the way that I saw it.

Dick Trail