Hunter’s Journal – March 2022

By David Strickland

Growing up in southwest Georgia in the late 70s and early 80s, hunting was basically just going to a dove shoot. It was on a dove shoot when I first remember meeting the Wilders­­—Littleton Sr., Littleton Jr. and Lynn. 

You didn’t want to be near them in the field either. It left you with not much opportunity to shoot! Later I got to know the younger two doing another favorite pastime in rural south Georgia, cruising the streets of Pelham on the weekends.

David Strickland (above) with the turkey he harvested with his friend Lynn’s turkey gun. Lynn (pictured below) with a gobbler he killed prior to his passing.

Later I went off to college and earned a degree in Agricultural Education, which would lead me back to south Georgia as the Georgia Young Farmers advisor in Grady County. I wasn’t far from my old stomping grounds in Pelham. This is where I got the opportunity to really get to know the Wilders. Through farm visits and the Young Farmer classes, I got to know them better and develop a special relationship with them. 

Whether it was checking corn yields, determining digging dates for peanuts or working on fences or in the chicken houses, Lynn and I would always get to talking about hunting and wildlife management. It was something we had in common and unlike in our teenage days, we actually had something to hunt other than just doves. Deer were starting to thrive, and turkeys were seen occasionally. 

I had several meetings for the Young Farmers on wildlife management with the assistance of the local DNR rangers. Many started managing part of their land for wildlife and the wildlife responded. The Wilder’s were some of the ones who really did well in managing for wildlife. Lynn was the one to take the lead on this. In our visits, we started swapping more and more hunting stories. We shared in our successes but more likely we talked about the mistakes. Lynn always wanted to joke around, get something started or tease someone, but it was all in fun. 

We shared some of the stories on the dove field, like the bird that flew close to the Mojo and caused the wing of the decoy to get a bunch of holes. We would always find something to tease someone about.

Lynn got diagnosed with colon cancer in July 2012. He had his surgery and started treatments and even though sometimes he may have not really felt like it, he continued to hunt.

Then in May 2016 my doctor called me and said it was time for me to get a colonoscopy. I woke up during the procedure and saw when they were taking a sample of a small flat spot in a fold of my colon. The next week when I went back, he said, “I hate this part of my job, but you have cancer.” So on July 2, 2016, I had 14 inches of my colon removed. 

So now in addition to the bond of hunting and all the stories that we told, we now added stories about the peculiarities of missing part of your colon, to oncology visits and all the tests they always were wanting to perform. Oh and let’s not forget gallons of GoLYTELY for the colonoscopies that came on a regular basis!

Then the change happened. Lynn’s cancer kept popping up, and he continued to have to have more treatments. I had a guilty feeling because after I had my section of colon removed, I didn’t have any chemo or radiation, just regular colonoscopies and CEA tests. He and I often talked about how he was having problems and went to the doctor and how mine was a routine test. Lynn and I always told others to get screened because we are living proof that early detection is important!

In September 2020, Lynn started getting worse. Lynn’s wife Sherry told me on one of my phone calls to that he was getting closer to the end. During our visit, our conversation naturally turned to hunting. He told me that since Littleton Jr. stayed so busy that it was my job to stay on him about planting sunflowers for the birds because the dove shoots were always a great time of fellowship. I told him I would. 

A few days later Sherry called and said if I wanted to see him again that I needed to come quickly. I came over and this time he wasn’t speaking, but our eyes focused on each other, and I said I love you brother. Those were the last words we spoke to each other as he went to be with his Lord and Savior on Sept. 21.

Littleton Jr. and Sherry called me over and said Lynn wanted me to have his turkey gun. I cried like a baby (I am now as I type this, too). I told them it was an honor and that I would use his shotgun to harvest a turkey in dedication to him. So, I’m finally getting to my favorite hunt stoxry!

Just before turkey season our Great Dane ran into the side of my knee, and I had to have surgery to repair two meniscus tears. I was healed up enough to go hunting but had to set up blinds so I could sit in a chair. I got that setup in place and took Lynn’s turkey gun to shoot it to make sure it was on. It is equipped with a red dot, which I’m not really used to. It looked good on paper, so I said I was good for opening day. 

I got in the blind that morning and soon heard gobbling. Later I did a little calling and had a tom respond. Shortly I looked across the field and there he was alone with no hens. I was excited. He started strutting and getting closer, then he saw my jake and hen decoys, and he began to run. 

I got the gun up and attempted to turn on the red dot (remember I said I’m not used to them). The red dot scope wouldn’t come on! I couldn’t unscrew the scope so I could use the bead! He was right there fighting my decoy. I thought that if I centered the bird in the scope, it would work! Nope not a feather! 

He was still standing there, so I pumped another shell in! Still didn’t work! He was still there, so I pumped another one in! I still hadn’t cut a feather, and I was out of shells! 

A ruined hunt… not really what I was after with Lynn’s gun. However, when I thought about it, we always teased and cut up about the things that went wrong. It was perfect, I will remember it forever, even more than if it had been that quick-on-a-string hunt that it looked like to start off with! 

I went home dejected but laughing. I had to call Littleton Jr. and Sherry, and we all agreed Lynn was laughing with and at me. I bought a new battery and turned it on when I got out of the truck at the next hunt. This happened to be at a friend of Lynn’s and mine, and Lynn had hunted his place for years, and he gave me permission to hunt it now. 

Early that morning a gobbler came out across the field with two hens. He acted interested but wouldn’t break away from the hens. As I was watching him, I told Lynn that we had our laugh last time, so we have to get something to work this time. No sooner than I said that I heard that familiar spitting and drumming coming up from behind. Get the gun up, scope is on, dot on the turkey, pull the trigger. Flop for Dewey (Lynn’s nickname).

While the harvest is fun, the thing we don’t need to forget is the special bonds we make along the way! People are way more important!