Richard Duncan was a great friend to my grandfather. They hunted all over Southern Indiana. Richard carried a 357 Mag. on his left hip. My grandfather never liked handguns but a rifle or shotgun hung over every entrance way of his old farmhouse. He was very fond of the .22. Now when coon hunting was big around the area, this is what it looked like. These men hunted coon like Bundy hunted women. They had these minature boards to pull and stretch the hides over. Then hung them to dry. There were a few other things they did as well to keep bugs and rot from the hide as well. But I won't detail that. My first crime story was titled A Coon Hunter's Noir. It came from these two men as well as my father's time as a Marine in Vietnam. Hardboiled published it in issue #39.
Richard is still among the living. Has a farm down in Kentucky. I miss ole Richard.
I know what you mean. My grandpa was a duck hunter. I never got to go hunting with him. My dad hunted deer, but he died before I was able to go with him, too. But the whole ritual of the guns, the meat, the duck hanging on the wall, well, lots of nice memories in that.
ReplyDeleteMy old man was a vet of the Korean war, so he was finished with killing when I was coming up, so no hunting. But he was a huge gun enthusiast so going out to the shoot range was our ritual.
ReplyDeleteRichard sounds like a good man... Everyone in my family is a hunter except me but I love the taste of venison... Frank, I'm glad you're blogging and I will add you as a link on mine- if this wi-fi I'm stealing holds out.
ReplyDeleteThanks David. Much appreciated. I hunted a lot when I was younger with my father, grandfather. A small bit now with my cousin. He's the big time hunter. If there is a season he's got his license. I wade fish more than anything now, and of course I write. Yes, venison is the shit. I use it in my chili.
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