Send us your best whitetail stuff (and don't forget to attach pictures!)
Russell Graves - Believes whitetails shouldn't be photographed in the back of a truck with their tongue hanging out.
Location - Texas
Brian Strickland - Has 369,518 acres of land that you can hunt on. Call him at (555) 281-HUNT.
Location - Colorado
Tony Hansen - Is pretty confident Michigan will release at least 300,000 archers into the woods this fall.
Location - Michigan
Jake Fagan - He's really just here to hang out, so don't mind him.
Location - Georgia
Will Brantley - Loves hunting in a dorag because it makes him look Ramboish. Some may call it Little Man Syndrome.
Location - Tennessee
Monday, August 18, 2008
The License
Seventy years ago today, E. Sterling stepped into an office somewhere in Dallas and smacked down $2.00 to purchase a Texas hunting license from agent John R. Mitchell.
The license was issued by the Texas Game, Fish, & Oyster Commission (now known as the Texas Parks & Wildlife Department). Now, I don't know Mr. Sterling but I do know that he was 5' 10" tall, 180 pounds, brown hair, brown eyes, and was 40 when he purchased the license (that means he was born in 1898).
Around the turn of the new century, a twist of fate put his license in my hands. I found the small leather pouch a few years ago when I was digging through a box of stuff that my mom set aside for me.
As I sifted through pictures and trophies - all of which were recognizable - this little leather pouch was foreign. I asked my mother about it and she told me that she put it in my box because I might like to have it. When I opened the pouch, I unfolded this old, yellowed license.
My mother told me that she found the pouch back in the early 1960's. She and my dad had only been married a few years when she found a hunting vest at a garage sale and bought it for him. When she got the vest home, she found the pouch in one of the pockets and then put it away where it sat for years.
I had really forgotten about the license until a couple of days ago when I found them in a box. When I looked at the date, I couldn't believe that it was nearing the 70th anniversary of the transaction.
On the back of the license, it lists the bag limits for the various species like:
BEAR, 1 a season
DEER, mule deer, 1 a season west of the Pecos River. whitetail, 2 a season except in counties where the season is closed. Two of the aggregate of both kinds of deer and bucks must have three prongs or more.
DOVES, 15 a day
DUCKS, 10 a day
GEESE, 5 a day
PRAIRIE CHICKEN or PINNATED GROUSE, no open season
QUAIL AND CHACHALACAS, 12 a day and no more than 36 a week
SQUIRRELS, 10 a day
TURKEY GOBBLERS, 3 in one season
Oh yeah, it also says that, "Persons convicted of violating the Game Laws shall forfeit their right to hunt with a gun in this State for a period of 12 months following the date of conviction."
When the license was purchased, my daddy was still a baby (three months shy of his first birthday). Every time I look at it I wonder what the hunting was like back then and what Mr. Sterling liked to hunt. Was he a deer hunter or did he like squirrels? Were quail still plentiful in the blackland prairies that surrounded Dallas and did he love hunting them? Plenty of questions swirl but the answers are forever locked in time.
Admittedly, there is a lot I don't know about Mr. Sterling. But I do know this:
He was an outdoorsman.
He loved the outdoors enough to lay down 16-bits for the privilege to legally hunt ($29.73 adjusted to today's dollar).
His love of the outdoors reached through time, a garage sale, and a second-hand hunting vest to first connect with my mother, then my dad, and then to me.
Undoubtedly, Mr. Sterling is long gone. If he were alive today he'd be 110 years old.
Undoubtedly, we'll all pass on some day. But individually, what kind of legacy could we leave to our posterity if our unflappable outdoor ethic, our memories afield, and our wise stewardship remained as strong and as resilient as this old hunting license?
I am a believer in fate. The license was meant for my mother to find back when she was a young bride in her 20's. After sitting forgotten for forty years, she found them again and passed them to me. What are the chances that I'd re-discover them just two days shy of their 70th year since origination?
One of my favorite quotes from the movie Forest Gump goes something like, "I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floatin' around accidental-like on a breeze. But I, I think maybe it's both, maybe both happening at the same time."
Thank you, Mr. Sterling and Happy Hunting...
The license was issued by the Texas Game, Fish, & Oyster Commission (now known as the Texas Parks & Wildlife Department). Now, I don't know Mr. Sterling but I do know that he was 5' 10" tall, 180 pounds, brown hair, brown eyes, and was 40 when he purchased the license (that means he was born in 1898).
Around the turn of the new century, a twist of fate put his license in my hands. I found the small leather pouch a few years ago when I was digging through a box of stuff that my mom set aside for me.
As I sifted through pictures and trophies - all of which were recognizable - this little leather pouch was foreign. I asked my mother about it and she told me that she put it in my box because I might like to have it. When I opened the pouch, I unfolded this old, yellowed license.
My mother told me that she found the pouch back in the early 1960's. She and my dad had only been married a few years when she found a hunting vest at a garage sale and bought it for him. When she got the vest home, she found the pouch in one of the pockets and then put it away where it sat for years.
I had really forgotten about the license until a couple of days ago when I found them in a box. When I looked at the date, I couldn't believe that it was nearing the 70th anniversary of the transaction.
On the back of the license, it lists the bag limits for the various species like:
BEAR, 1 a season
DEER, mule deer, 1 a season west of the Pecos River. whitetail, 2 a season except in counties where the season is closed. Two of the aggregate of both kinds of deer and bucks must have three prongs or more.
DOVES, 15 a day
DUCKS, 10 a day
GEESE, 5 a day
PRAIRIE CHICKEN or PINNATED GROUSE, no open season
QUAIL AND CHACHALACAS, 12 a day and no more than 36 a week
SQUIRRELS, 10 a day
TURKEY GOBBLERS, 3 in one season
Oh yeah, it also says that, "Persons convicted of violating the Game Laws shall forfeit their right to hunt with a gun in this State for a period of 12 months following the date of conviction."
When the license was purchased, my daddy was still a baby (three months shy of his first birthday). Every time I look at it I wonder what the hunting was like back then and what Mr. Sterling liked to hunt. Was he a deer hunter or did he like squirrels? Were quail still plentiful in the blackland prairies that surrounded Dallas and did he love hunting them? Plenty of questions swirl but the answers are forever locked in time.
Admittedly, there is a lot I don't know about Mr. Sterling. But I do know this:
He was an outdoorsman.
He loved the outdoors enough to lay down 16-bits for the privilege to legally hunt ($29.73 adjusted to today's dollar).
His love of the outdoors reached through time, a garage sale, and a second-hand hunting vest to first connect with my mother, then my dad, and then to me.
Undoubtedly, Mr. Sterling is long gone. If he were alive today he'd be 110 years old.
Undoubtedly, we'll all pass on some day. But individually, what kind of legacy could we leave to our posterity if our unflappable outdoor ethic, our memories afield, and our wise stewardship remained as strong and as resilient as this old hunting license?
I am a believer in fate. The license was meant for my mother to find back when she was a young bride in her 20's. After sitting forgotten for forty years, she found them again and passed them to me. What are the chances that I'd re-discover them just two days shy of their 70th year since origination?
One of my favorite quotes from the movie Forest Gump goes something like, "I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floatin' around accidental-like on a breeze. But I, I think maybe it's both, maybe both happening at the same time."
Thank you, Mr. Sterling and Happy Hunting...
Labels: Texas
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