Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Deer Hunting To Dad's long gone

My dad passed away 5 years ago. Hunting seasons are especially hard. Here are a couple of pictures of one of his first hunts.
His name was Frank Lindquist and he lived in Salem Oregon. His 6X4 mulie was his 1st buck ever. Take in Ea. Ore. He took it to the taxidermist but shortly after got drafted into the army. When he got home the shop had closed and his head was gone. The second picture is of his buck, his brothers buck, and a 15X13 winterkill they found(which later burned up in garage fire). I believe the year was 1940 or 41.

Thanks for the pics....good stuff!

My Dad died in 1982 and let me tell you, it doesn't get any easier. My brother died in 1996 and then my father in law in 2001. My wonderful son, a licensed guide, has moved far enough away that we only hunt together on occasion. I have a brother in law that THINKS he is a hunter but in reality, PURE yuppie!!!!!!!!!!!!! LOST cause. I make sure that on EVERY hunt I go on, whether it is bird hunting or deer huning that I carry something that belonged to each of them. Now, very luckily, my wife has turned into my best hunting partner. She braves whatever the conditions or temperatures. Always there, and always ready to squeeze the trigger. I only hope that those that have left me are watching.

I've written here many times about my dad. I'm pushing 50 now, and he died when I was 21. It doesn't get any easier. I still miss his guidance and woods savvy at deer camp. He was a great mentor, and every fall is a tough time for me. Thanks for posting the pics. I'm sure your dad was a strong influence and great hunter too.

wonderful post lazy.......... Thanks

Pop died in 1991. He was my guide, my mentor, my friend. He was with me at 7 years old, when I took my first deer.
Pop never talked down, talked loud or was too busy for me.

Not a day goes by that I don't spend time thinking of him.

I'm 57 and my dad has been gone thirty years now....it doesn't get any easier...

The man that kinda stepped in and was known to all as my "Surrogate Father" has now been gone 7 years....

For an aging man myself, sometimes I still feel like a lost little boy...

Ingwe

Here's to your dad...

I still have mine, and don't know what I'd do without him.

Mine's been gone for 26 years now. My brother Tom died a year ago next week. Miss both of them.

I'm 61. My father who was the most gifted wing shot I have ever seen and so good with a rifle I never saw him shoot more than once in all our years together has been gone some twelve years now. This year, for the first time I will pick up his knife and carry it with me hunting. I still remember him letting me shoot his rifle the first time when I wasn't even big enough to hold it myself. I am glad that he got to see me turn into a decent wing shot, and long before he died after I had just shot a monster buck on the last hour of the last day of the season when neither of us had so much as gotten a shot he came up to me and said I was pretty sure that if we we going to eat venison this year either you or I was going to have to shoot it.

My dad is still with us. My wife's dad died three years ago this month and she still has her moments although she is not one to talk about it much. I became a father for the first time this summer and being one makes me appreciate mine more. He's not perfect but whose dad is? Saturday morning is residents only day in Maine for whitetail. Along with some family we'll journey to the same old country church we've been going to for years and enjoy the hunter's breakfast before heading out.

Here's to all of your dads who've passed on already and to the dads still with us!

Cheers!

Here's to mine ! Thanks for the tribute.

Great pics and story, Lazydrifter!

My poppa passed on before he saw 36, I was only ten... it left a hole in my heart so big you could have drove a truck through. I envy all of you who had a father during the formative years.

Here's to my uncle/ mentor who took me under his wing and taught me to hunt and fish! A knifemaker...



And here's to the sons we are blessed to mentor!

Here, here. I'll drink to that. This IS a FANTASTIC thread.

It has been a while now since Dad passed into an eternity with the Lord. When I leave the house and hear the crunch of fresh snow under foot, I am transported back to the mid to late sixties and our walking, during hunting. I can still smell the "diesel and dust" odour of his parka in the truck when we first got in. We hunted, talked, warmed sandwhiches over a fire, and he showed me how a man can respect and love another man, without tarnish or impropriety. He raised a couple of honest, good hearted, respectful boys, who both still love to hunt together.

Randy

It has to hurt not having your mentor around. Montanaborn and myself are SOOO.... lucky dad is still kicking and able to go to camp to dispense his 91 years of knowledge to anybody who figures it worth hearing and watching. Here he is in his favorite Pendleton dispensing knowledge to yours truly.

Lucky Man!

Enjoy it to the fullest...I know I did...

Ingwe

My dad bought me a 12ga JC Higgins pump when I was 12 and we hunted quail. We did our first 400mi pheasant hunt when I was 16. We only missed one season pheasant hunting in 22 yrs. My grandmother was sick. We hunted deer in later years and he died peacefully at 86. Youse guys make me cry. Life is good.

Great thread guys, makes me feel very fortunate to still have my dad. He doesnt hunt any more as he is to busy for it. But even as I near my 33rd birthday he takes the time to hear "How I did?" every evening when he gets home.

And i thought it was just me.

At 41 I'm 10 years past my father's passing.

Still hard.

What's to do but pray that I can be half the father to my children as he was to me?

My dad will be gone now 4 years December 10th. I was 18 when he died, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of him in some way. He and I shared a lot of great times together, and my last memory of he and I together was a day we spent deer hunting together. I don't think we even saw a deer that day, but it was beautiful out, with a couple inches of snow, and we hunted sun up til sun down. Easily my favorite hunting memory of all, by a long shot.

It sucks big time that he is gone but, he died doing what he loved. He spent his last day alive hunting with two of his best friends, and I can't really imagine him wanting much of anything different. I've got a lot of cool old photos on slides that I need to get scanned in someday, but haven't had the time to get a scanner.

His passing caused me to take a greater love and appreciation of the outdoors, and has consequently got me to hunt and fish as much as I possibly can. Being in the woods we used to hunt, or on his favorite trout stream makes me feel "closer" to him, as if he's kinda looking over my shoulder. For those of you that still have your dads, you're very lucky, and I'd say cherish the moments you have to the fullest while you still can.

Here's a picture of a picture, of I believe the last turkey he killed.