Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Deer Hunting In Memorium

Every fall, I like to remember all the deer camps and hunting groups that lost one or more of their members since last season. There's nothing worse than heading for camp knowing that one of your dear and trusted friends will never be coming back. Somewhere, up on the mountain, a tree stand will go empty for the first time in many, many years. A favorite spot down in the hollow will be unguarded. The contributions he used to make to the group, be it his generosity at the card table, or the time he lent a helping helping hand dragging that big buck out will long be remembered. So to all our friends whose groups lost a member this year, we raise a toast in their memory. They may be gone but not forgotten, and the best remembrance is to go have fun, and create some new memories. In this vein, I'd like to remember all the guys we've bid farewell to over the years. Rest in peace guys, and we'll see you all again some day for sure.

Here Here!

My toast has been...

"To Absent friends...and Hunters, home from the hill..."


Ingwe

Great post. My toast is to my dad!

Lost my father 2 yrs. ago this month. Sure do miss his wisdom, antics and adventures that was at every hunt we went on.

A tip of my hat pa .. BP...

A toast to those that came befor us and to those that will come after us.

Good post GG.

I raise my glass to a few....My uncle Rick who forgot more about hunting that I'll ever know. Rick lost his life to leukemia a year before I got to carry a gun in the woods with him.

And my best friend Luke, who lost his life to cancer as well, at the much too young age of 26.

I miss you both, and know you'll be with me, but send me a booner will ya...

Glasses high!

Our entire Pennsylvania hunting group is gone now. Dad and his buddies built our camp right after WWII. We're lucky enough to have a log book with entries made every time someone visited the camp. It's a great read, and I hope some day to publish it so others can share in the past of our camp. Having gone through this process of losing a camp member over 10 times now, I know what it's like to feel such a personal loss. It's not like losing a family member-it's a very different kind of hurt, and I think about it every year. To the members that read this, and are going through this this fall for the first time, all I can say is hang in there, go have a great season, and remember your fallen comrades. They would want it no other way.

A very timely post , thank you .
Just heard about the passing of the last of the old buck club ( folks in our little end of the road section , hunting the area since before 1950 ) Was fortunate enough to see him one last time at camp a few weeks ago . Even at 97 just being up there again brought such a smile to his face , that inner glow that only comes from being in the place you love the most .
Many to toast to this coming opening weekend , my Dad included .

They are probably sharing a campfire in the sky laughing at all us crazies down here.

Ocotber 28th will be the 2nd year without Luke...he is probably looking for turkeys as I write this.

"Tommy....GET MY GUN!" are words I'll never forget, and will always make me smile.

I miss him.

gophergunner;

That's something I dread. The camp I hunt out of is small, often just my two uncles and myself, with occasional friends dropping in. Still, the regulars are just the three of us.

I know that one day, one of us won't be there.

That day can't be far enough off.

Amen!

Here's to Mike the best deer/turkey hunter I ever meet. The turkey's of Henry County are breathing a sigh of relief this year.

right on


Here's to my cousin & best friend Waylon.

We figured we'd have many years to go elk hunting together so there was no hurry, "one of these years."

He's been gone for 2 years now, we never went elk hunting together.

But tomorrow I will meet up with my cousin's 18 year old son and also his father. The 3 of us along with my 12 year old boy are going elk hunting.

A couple of years ago we would have been an unlikely hunting group. But today we are a very strong hunting group.

My cousin's untimely death has drawn us together, which could not have happened if he wasn't the kind of man he was. The fun we have together as a group is a tribute to a great man and a comfort to us all.

We will make a toast in his name around a campfire in the mountains very soon.

Cherish it...but I don't think I need to tell you that..
Ingwe

To my b-in-law, Rotten Tom, and his neighbor, Jack. Jack taught me how to make "Eggs [bleep]" (scrambled eggs w/ last night's leftovers) and to Tom who used to bring me pistachios outside in the cold while he, Jack and others had "one more" at the last bar before we hit the hill. What characters....and good men.

To my younger brother who left this earth too soon. I miss our hunts together. It's been nearly 17 years now. I have his 870 Rem. that he killed a LOT of rabbits, squirrels, deer with it here in Indiana. He was a one gun man, well two actually. The other was a 788 Rem. in 222 that I also have.

To my Uncle Jack, he was my mentor when I moved to the river bottoms. Tough as nails, it did not get too hot, cold, wet or dry for him to complain. No mater how bad it was according to him, in 5 minutes it would be just fine. If it burnt gun powder he could shoot it very well. He made more long shots on ducks and geese than anyone I ever knew. When I asked him how he did that we would just " give the lead that you think they need and then give them more, then trip the trigger". When asked how he learned that he said I learned that when I was hungry and needed to eat. He grew up in the river bottoms when times were tough in the 40's. If there was a better trapper in Indiana than he was they would have to prove it to me. He was a three gun man, a Winchester M75 sporter, Winchester M70 chambered in 6 X 284 when most people had no idea what that was (at least here in Indiana back in the late 60's), and an A5 Browning. All were paid for by trapping mink.

Mercy, I MISS them.

PaPa260

Toast to the three best friends I ever had...
All Hunters Home from the Hill..

Ingwe

Dad's favorite spot was about a mile up on the mountain at the head of an unnamed hollow. Lord only knows how many deer fell to Dad's 99 up there. I've been up there exactly once in the the 26 years since Dad passed away, and that was only because I was dragging out a deer from higher up on the hill and had no choice but to pass through this area. It was a very eerie feeling to be passing by Dad's spot. I knew it well, as both me and my brother started our hunting careers on that same rock Dad sat on for all those years. I felt like I was trespassing on an Indian burial ground. This was hallowed ground to me and my brother, and we've just never been able to bring ourselves to hunt that spot in all these years. We hear shots up there all the time, so I know it gets hunted, but we just can't go up there for some reason-out of respect, or because it just hurts too much- I don't really know, but we just don't go up there. I'm sure there's a bunch of guys up above right now looking down on us and laughing their butts off around the card table. Rest in peace, good friends. We'll hunt together again some day.