A KID’S FIRST DEER
FORTY YEARS AGO: I got a late start at deer hunting. When I was a child, my mother remarried and moved the family to southern California where I grew up a city boy. Not until I’d seen enough of college did the rural seeds planted in my childhood sprout, leaving me longing for the countryside of upstate New York. My biological father, delighted to hear I was coming home, met me with open arms and a place to stay. Shortly thereafter he gave me one more thing — a 12 gauge shotgun furnished with a long skeet barrel, perfect to get me hooked on his passion of rabbit hunting. My eyes ballooned at the special gift.
As November neared, local chatter accelerated about the upcoming deer season. It would be my first go at it and I couldn’t help but get caught up in the anticipation. Dad saw it differently. To him deer season simply posed an unwelcomed interlude that interrupted his cherished rabbit hunting. He wasn’t so stubborn he wouldn’t participate, but when pressed for fatherly advice he simply said, “Just aim behind the shoulder.” I laugh about it now, but the good news is I had zero knowledge about ballistics at the time so
