Here is a picture of me I'm guessing 1.5-2 years old after dad had had a successful spring morning. As you can see I didn't have much say or choice if I was going to be a spring gobbler hunter. I think I turned out alright. As you can I was way to little to hunt but it wasn't to many years after this I was in the woods with my dad. He would carry me up mountains across rivers and creeks. He was always getting on me all the time and keeping me straight he'd say "Boy you sound like a bull walking through the woods. Walk fast but walk lite. Set your foot down easy if you feel a stick under your foot pick it back up and set it down in another spot. When I stop; you stop." Before I could get through the mountains good just a little boy he had me out in the woods at night coon hunting with his reliable female bluetick named Cindy. He take me deer hunting trying to get me a buck taking away from his vacation time to get himself a big buck. If I'd kill a buck or a turkey he would always take a big deep breath and say "Boy I'm glad I got you one now I can hunt!" Lol. My dad got me first buck when I was 5. He started hunting me on spring gobblers when I was 5 and he finally got me my first gobbler when I was 8. I called in and killed my first spring gobbler by myself with no one with me when I was 13. The only thing I could think about was turkey, deer, and coon hunting and trout fishing. In elementary school the teacher would say write a story or draw a picture as it was always about a hunting or fishing.
What I'm trying to say is I wasn't out on a street corner doing drugs or stealing or breaking the law in free time; I was on a creek bank chasing a trout or on a ridge after a buck or spring gobbler. Get them kids in the woods. They'll turn out alright!
