Daddy Uses Deer Hunt To Teach Life Lesson

Jon William Giddens, 6 at the time, with his daddy’s spike that was taken in Worth County in 2014. This hunt marked a moment in the young boy’s life when he learned a lesson that many grown-ups never do. Jon William is from Sylvester.

My father never really sheltered me, at least by most standards he didn’t. When he worked wrecker calls and we tagged along, he never tried to hide the blood or gore from me too much as a child. He would always tell us when a person had died. And tell us how. He wanted us to have a respect for automobiles. Today, I understand how quickly a car or truck will turn you into an empty shell.

I tell you this because I had an opportunity two years ago to do something similar with my boy, Jon William. I finally made time to put it in writing.

We had sat most of the afternoon in the deer stand, and he was restless. He was almost 6 years old. So we started sneaking back to the truck. It was bow season, and I didn’t really expect to do much good with a 6 year old.  

We were a couple hundred yards from the truck when I spotted movement on the edge of a field. It was a spike. I told Jon William to, “Stay put. Daddy is going to sneak up and see if I can get a shot. You watch.”

So I started my Indian like approach with my release hooked and ready. My heart was beating as I squatted low an eased toward the buck about 100 yards from me in the cotton field.

I had closed the gap on the spike to just inside my comfortable bow range when the little buck noticed me and started to stomp. I froze. That’s when I felt a little hand on my leg and heard his little voice say, “Shoot it, Daddy, shoot.” He had been sneaking along behind me the whole time!

It was now or never as I pulled the bow back with my little boy at my side. I held the pin slightly high but not too high since I knew the spike would drop its body as I released the arrow.

I touched the release, and sure enough he dropped right into the arrow, and I heard the tell tale “flump” as the arrow made contact. 

The buck tore out the field and into a thicket, of course. I easily found my arrow and a solid blood trail. My boy immediately noticed the blood.  

“Daddy, look at all the blood.” 

I trailed the deer to the woods with my arrow nocked just in case. I told Jon William to stay in the field as I entered the thicket. 

“I mean it this time,” I told him.

“Yes-sir,” he said.

As I entered the thicket, I had to keep talking to him as it was getting dark, and he was getting a little scared. I was hunkered down as I walked under the low canopy and talked to my son. I wasn’t quite 50 yards into the thicket when I saw the deer laying there staring at me only 10 feet away. As is the case sometimes in hunting, the deer had yet to expire when I found him. I told my son to come to me.

I knew the outcome of what was about to happen could go several ways, but I felt like what I was fixing to do had to be done. Jon William may despise hunting or appreciate it after this, but it had to be done. He came to me as I sat Indian style.

“Did you find it?” Jon William whispered.

I pointed at the dying buck just 10 feet from us, and he sat in my lap with eyes as big as the buck’s. I had made a great shot, and he was bleeding out very fast. I was scared he may not die peacefully, but I could tell it would not be long, and I doubted he could get up again.

My boy sat quietly in the coming darkness and whispered, “Is it dead?”

“No, but it’s dying,” I said.

“We can’t help it?” Jon William asked.

“No, there is nothing anyone can do to save him. He is done.”

So we sat for what seemed forever as the buck left this world peacefully. The whole ordeal lasted probably less than a minute…. Then Jon William looked at me. No tears. No panic. 

Oddly, his expression seemed like realization had set in. 

“Dad, this is sad.”   

I said, “It is son. Anytime a life is taken it’s a sad thing. This buck will never eat another cotton leaf. He is gone. But you can be sad and happy at the same time, son…”   

Jon William looked at me and asked, “What do you mean?”

I told him, “Be sad the deer has to die, but be happy knowing me and you will go home and feed mama and sister. The buck died for a reason. We don’t have to kill everyone we see. In fact, we learn more just watching, but be happy knowing that we could feed mama and sister with our bare hands if we ever had to.”

As we loaded the deer into the truck, I showed him the hole and the blood. I explained how the same thing would happen to any other living thing—including people—that were shot. 

He said, “That’s why I won’t mess with your guns, Dad.” 

Here’s a recent picture of Jon William doing a little target practice with his .22 rifle. This season he is hoping to kill his first deer and put some food on the table for his mama and sister.

I explained my guns were tools just like a hammer or saw. All three could kill someone but only if used wrong.

My boy learned in an hour what grown men go their entire lives and do not fully understand. Jon William is very excited to try and kill his first deer this year.