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Main Boards => PowWow => Topic started by: Curtiss Cardinal on April 01, 2006, 01:32:00 PM
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He was born in a medium sized town in the Midwest. He was the fifth of nine children. He was a tiny baby and his parents were concerned; but their fears were soon eased as he grew faster than any of their other babies had. By the time he was one year old he was stoutly built and showing signs of being strong beyond his years. He was given the nickname Butch and it fit him as even as a small boy he displayed manliness. He followed his father around all the time. If his father was working on his car Butch crawled under and watched. If he washed the car or their trailer home Butch helped as best he could. Butch refused to quit until the job, any job, was done. Butch's Dad and Mom took up the sport of archery when he was 16 months old. So Butch grew up in an archery family. Wanting to do everything his father did Butch cried when at two and a half he wasn't allowed to shoot a bow. His father being a wise man handed him a bow and said,"If you can pull it back to anchor, I'll teach you to shoot it." Butch tried and tried but the 27#@24" youth bow was just too much for him. Butch's bottom lip jutted out the way it always did when he was disappointed. His expression changed quickly and he handed the bow back and walked away looking determined.
Butch started doing push ups with his older brothers and lifting everything around him "to see how heavy it was." By the time he was 3 he could pull the 27# Bear recurve to his ear. His father, though, was working days at the time and didn't have the time to show Butch how to shoot. Butch tried to learn how on his own, In secret, because he didn't have permission. Half of Butch's brothers and sisters were right handed and half were left handed, so there were 2 recurves for the kids one for each hand. When Butch couldn't shoot one he shot the other. So he was able to shoot equally well or poorly with either hand by the time he was 4. His father figured 4 was a good age for him to start shooting. After all Butch was four feet tall and 75 pounds. He was a lot bigger than the other 4 year olds he played with and scary strong. So the lessons began and for a time Butch's father was cross with his other sons thinking they had taught Butch their bad habits in shooting. Butch's father soon had him straighten out and Butch was a decent instinctive shot with either bow. He had never seen his father smile so much and brag about him as often. Butch decided he would never quit shooting a bow and arrow.
(To Be Continued)
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Why, C2, that's a beautiful story. I can't wait to read the rest of it.
Are you Butch.....?
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When Butch turned 5 he was shooting everyday whatever the weather; but in the Spring of that year his brothers taught him how to throw and hit a baseball. Butch had another passion of boys. So he divided his time between baseball and archery. There was ample time for both. When Butch turned 8 he started doing chores on his Uncle's farm during the Summer and time to shoot and play ball became more precious. Working on the farm made Butch even stronger. By the time he was 12 he was as strong as the average full grown man. He walked behind the alfalfa baler all day and tossed the green bales up on the flat bed. He only stopped when the men did and he only rested when they did. Butch liked his hair cut short in a crew cut and that only made his nickname stick to him all the more. Tow headed and freckled from the Summer sun his mother thought him handsome. He sat at the dinner table one night, That Summer, next to his grandfather who had watched him work all day long. In Butch's grandparents house they drank wine with dinner. Wine his grandfather had made. No one but Butch's Granddad had an ssigned seat so Butch's Grandma always had a glass of wine at every place setting. After everyone was set she would walk around the huge dining room table and pick up the glasses of wine in front of any kid. This night would stick in Butch's memory forever because this night when his Grandma reached for his glass of wine his Granddad stopped her and said,"Did a Man's work, get's a Man's Meal." And he grinned at Butch. Grandma looked at Butch and at Granddad and left the wine.
That Fall Butch hunted whitetail deer for the first time.He was 5'3" and weighed 150. He used his mother's 47#@28" Red Wing Hunter and cedar arrows with a full length white dip and 4 4" red barred shield cut fletches and MA3L broadheads that his dad sharpened until the could shave dry hair. A young doe saw the top of Butch's head as he sat behind a deadfall and approached him wondering what he was. He came to full draw behind the trunk of the fallen tree and when the doe was 3 feet away looking straight at him he loosed the arrow and it crashed into her neck. She collasped to the ground and bled out in front of him. Butch felt strange. He was both excited, envigorated and nausceous and guilty. He had taken the life of this beautiful animal. This was a tradition in his family; and as his father had told him, something that people had done for thousands of years. He knew he wasn't the first boy that had felt this way and he wouldn't be the last. Butch bowed his head and said a prayer of thanks and then dragged the doe as gently as he could to the road and waited for his father.
(To Be Continued)
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As Butch leaned against a tree by the road waiting, he remember all the hours he had spent practicing, at all the distances his dad had said were common for a hunting shot. None had been 3 feet. He played over in his mind's eye all the Fred Bear Movies he had watched that Summer. He had even gone up to Grayling with his father and talked to Mr. Bear. He had been so nervous at first. Mr. Bear had had a gentle way about him and even complimented Butch's ability to shoot from either side. Mr. Bear had sat Butch down and told him stories of Africa and the tiger he killed in India. He told Butch the key to being a good hunting shot was to shoot everyday in odd positions, from every distance. That he didn't expect Butch to shoot at animals at 100 yards; but that being able to shoot any distance accurately made a young man more confident at actual hunting distances. Butch found afterward that those words were some of the truest anyone had ever spoken to him. Mr. Bear gave Butch a "Fred Bear Showed Me How" patch and Bear Logo patches and a Bear Archery Field Tester patch. Butch put them in his "treasure box" a cigar box his Granddad had given him. They would remain some of his most prized possessions.
About this time compound bows came out. Butch's father got one as soon as Bear started making them. In 1974 Butch won an original Allen compound in a raffle. 50# @28 he praticed with it everyday. For the next 5 years Butch didn't see another deer within bow range.
When he turned 17 he bought himself a new Darton SL50 compound cranked all the way down it was 76# at his 31 inch draw. He shot full length 2219s and Razorbak 5 broadheads from NAP. He shot this bow, as he had shot all his hunting bows, instinctively. That same year he killed his first buck a small 6 point. He had tracked the buck and field dressed it but it was at the bottom of a steep, muddy revene with a creek at the bottom. The creek was the western border of the property Butch was hunting. It was too slick to get back up dragging the deer, Butch need help and went to get it. When he returned with his father and oldest brother his deer was gone. The gut pile was still there and two sets of boot tracks crossing the creek over onto the property Butch's family didn't have permission to trespass on. Butch's Father yelled across the creek, "What kind of low life steels a teenager's first buck?" He had also used some rather saltier language to embellish his condemnation of the deer theives. He turned to leave and patted Butch on the back in consolation. Butch couldn't remember ever being angrier and it was the first time in his life he had ever felt helpless. He hated that.
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The following Summer Butch graduated from High School. He went to a college close to his parents' home. Near the end of his first semester The United States Marine Corps sent a recruiter to his University. They were looking for promising young people to become officers in the Corps. Butch was approached on the campus diag by a Marine Gunnery Sgt in his dress blues. The Gunny told him he kinda looked like Chesty Puller. Butch was 6'1" and 225 with a 56" chest and 19" biceps. Farm work and the weight room had built his body. The Gunney made his pitch for the Corps and Butch liked what he heard. The Gunney told him he could take Basic Training, OCS and Officer's Combat Survival Training Schools over his Spring and Summer breaks and would be back at college with the Fall semester and the Corps would pay for college and pay him a 2nd Lt. salary while he went to school. He would have to keep his Springs and Summers free for the Corps. It all sounded good to Butch.
While at Basic Butch caught the eye of a Colonel both because of his build and because of his intelligence and unbelievable skill with firearms. Butch had qualified with every weapon they had handed him and had even surpassed the score required to rate Sniper with a rifle. The eye hand coordination archery had taught him lent itself well to other weapons. The Colonel found out Butch was head to OCS and decided to follow his progress. Butch received top marks at OCS and went on to Combat Training where again he excelled. The years hunting and camping seemed to pay dividends here too. Butch was called an ideal Marine by the Commandant of Quantico. His head swelled accordingly. The Colonel that had taken notice of Butch in Basic requested his presence at his office at Parris Island. The Colonel asked Butch to report late to Fall term and take the Scout/Sniper course at Parris Island. Butch agreed to do so, both because he had grown to Love the Corps and because it would only be 4 days into the term when he got to school and the Corps would advice his professors of his tardiness.
Butch excelled at the S/S school. Before it was over he could make 1000 meter head shots on moving targets with an M70 sniper rifle.
Butch went back to college almost reluctantly. School and his Marine duties precluded Butch from hunting that Fall. He missed it but rationalized that there would be many more seasons in his future. After the Fall term at College the Marine Corps asked Butch to change his Major to pre-Law. They wanted him to become a lawyer and join the JAG Office. Butch had his heart set on being a combat Marine, either a Harrier pilot of an Officer with Force Recon. Butch had developed an astigmatism that Fall so Harrier pilot was out. So he set his sights on Force Recon. The colonel that had sort of taken Butch under his wing called Butch to try and convince him that with his mind he would be a great asset to the JAG. He argued and cajoled Butch; but Butch had made the mistake of reading Shakespeare in college as well as having some personal experience with lawyers that made the thought of being one a less than exciting purposal. Butch told the Colonel he would think about it. Butch dragged his feet for as long as he could. He didn't want to become a desk jockey lawyer; but neither did he want to disappoint the Colonel. He looked over his Marine Corps contact and it stated right in it that he was promised a space in the pilot training program. If he for some reason was unable to attend flight school his options were, that he could pick a different duty assignment, or he could call the contract null and void because a specific clause in the contract could not be met. It was Spring and Butch reported to Quantico as he was ordered. On April 18, 1983 Butch was doing PT with some other officers and FBI cadets when the news that Islamic terrorists had bombed the Marine Barracks in Lebenon. Butch was shocked and disappointed that the Marines were not allowed to retaliate. America did not go to war over this heinous act. Butch was sent to Saudi Arabia to take deep desert survival training and to also train SANG troops in counter-sniper techniques. Butch was less than happy to be in the Middle East and not were he thought he should be doing what he felt he should be doing. While there he discovered that Arabs admire physical strength in men. Butch was invited to wrestle different units' champions from time to time that Summer. Butch took out some of his frustration on the very large Arabs they sent at him and went undefeated. Butch made a few friends in the SANG before he returned to the University in September.
That October Butch thought he might just have the time to get in some bowhunting near the end of the month; but on the 23rd of the month Butch was called to active duty. He was going to be attached to an amphibious landing party as an observer to further his education as a Marine Officer. Butch boarded a ship and was originally issued an M16 CAR; but after showing the quartermaster his credentials he was given an M70 sniper rifle which Butch felt much more comfortable with. He was allowed to fire it from the deck to sight it in at debris in the ocean. He had it wrung out and ready in 10 minutes. Butch was the only officer on board carrying a sniper rifle and it turned more than one head. The Marines landed as quietly as they could on the Isle of Grenada. Cubans had invaded the small island and American college students were feared to be in harm's way. It really wasn't much of a battle as battles go according to the old Master Gunnery Sgt. "But still it's the only war we've got." Butch never talked about what he did on Grenada; but he recieved a Purple Heart with oak leaf cluster, Bronze Star and two credited marks on his sniper record. Butch didn't smile much when he returned to school in November.
Butch had a hard time catching up with his classes after almost a month away. He was really feeling the pinch and very stressed about it when a Captain called him (on the Colonel's orders) and inquired as to whether he had decided to go into a law program and join JAG. Butch made a decision in haste that he would come to regret later in his life. He opted to dissolve his Marine contract. He wouldn't have to pay the Corps back for the college courses they had paid for; but neither would he be able to say he had served. It would be as if the previous 2 years had never happened.Butch was devastated by this. His family tried to make things better for him and his cousin invited him out west to hunt mule deer. He accepted; but it was rifle season so Butch left his bow at home. Butch was lent his uncle's 7mm magnum rifle and sighted it in for 500 yards. The next day Butch and his cousin went out to a ranch to hunt mulies. 250 yards past the gate they saw movement on a hillside. They stopped the truck and got out to glass and saw a magnificent mule deer buck bedding down in a group of sage brush, the only bit of cover for 100 yards in any direction. Just the top of his shoulder his neck and head were visible. The buck was just over 700 yards away. Butch got his rifle laid down on the ground in the prone position and used his coat and a rock on the ground for a rest for his rifle. His cousin asked him, "What do you think you're doing?" Butch replied,"I'm going to kill this buck."
"You can't shoot a deer that far a...." CRACK! The buck tumbled out of it's bed. Butch realized he hadn't been hunting. He was still the sniper and he had made meat but not hunted. Butch decided he would only bowhunt from that day on. To bowhunt he had to be within the deer's sphere of influence. Where it's senses and knowledge of the area would be more than a match for Butch.
On his 24th birthday Butch decided he wanted to be called his birth name instead of his nickname from now on. He told his family he felt it was more than past the time to put away childish things. From that day on they called him Curtiss
And that give or take a lie or two and exaggeration or three is the story of my young life. I have no idea why I felt I needed to write it down and share it; but there ya go. I hope it was interesting to you. God Bless and Good Hunting, Curtiss
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Pretty Damn neat story. I enjoyed it. :bigsmyl:
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I've been spell bound and on the edge since yesterday, don't stop lets hear more...Rusty
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a great story! been waiting all day for finish. tells alot about a person and where he coming from. lots of luck and hope every thing in life turns out good for you.
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So what did he do next? :eek:
Killdeer
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I have heard bits and pieces of this story in the last four years. Now I know it all. Thanks.
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A Part of the story left out of the previous retelling.
When Butch was 14 he was walking through the woods to his treestand, for the evening hunt, when he heard a low "woof" behind him. He didn't stop walking; but he kept his ears open all the way.He slowly took a Sattelite tipped arrow from his hip quiver and knocked it on the string of his Allen compound. There was a turn in the trail up ahead where he would be blocked from view from behind for a second or two. When he turned at the tree he took five steps at a run, stopped , turned and came to full draw and waited. A large male black bear came ambling around the tree. Butch didn't want to kill the bear; but he knew the bear might not give him any choice. He yelled and the bear changed ends and trotted away. Butch waited with his heart pounding in his chest, listening. After what seemed an hour he made his way to his stand without further incident. He had been in the stand for about 15 minutes when he heard another "woof" and saw the bear again at about 45 yards downwind of his stand. It began circling the tree Butch was in. The bear got just a little closer with each circle. Butch decided he would only shoot the bear if it came to the base of his tree and acted as if it were about to climb up. Butch had one arrow with a large rubber blunt on it. After the bear had circled him for half an hour he was only about 15 yards from the tree. Butch exchanged his broadhead tipped arrow with his blunt. He waited until the bear stopped in and opening and picked a spot on the bear's backside and released. "Thwack!" "ROAR!" and a sudden crashing through the woods. Butch saw his arrow on the ground about five feet from where the bear had been. Butch decided that with bear scent all over he would probably be better served using what daylight was left getting the heck out of Dodge. He lowered his bow with the rope that was tied to his stand and did something he later realized was stupid. He took out his razor sharp hunting knife and put it between his teeth as he climbed down thinking it would save time if the bear came back. He got down, resheathed his knife and picked up his bow. Butch retrieved his blunt tipped arrow and returned it to his quiver, then he nocked a broadhead tipped one and started back to camp. He was 100 yards from camp when it got full on dark. He decided he should wait for at least 15 minutes so no one would know he had left the stand early. As soon as he stopped he heard another "woof" behind him and it sounded like it was only a yard away. He came to full draw and turned in one motion; but it was too dark the bear was all but invisible. For the first time in his life Butch experienced terror. He had been scared before; but this was something that he hoped he never feel again. He started to shake and even began to cry and then something happened that he was never able to explain. He stopped crying, and to him it felt like his insides were turning to stone. He went into an absolutely blind rage; but rather than an explosion of noise and fury, he experienced a cold implosion that brought his senses into astounding clarity.He could smell the bear,almost taste it.He could hear its breathing. He could see it better now; but instead of shooting it he let down his bow and dropped it to the ground. He then took out his knife and put it in his left hand and drew out his boy scout hatchet in his right. He crouched and slowly stalked toward the black mass in front of him and for the first time in his life he swore, "Come on you dirty "M.Fer" let's finish this." He spoke it in a cold whisper and then yelled, "COME ON!" Luckily for Butch the bear ran off. Butch stood there shaking as the stress bled off of him and he cried, and laughed and almost fell to the ground in relief. After a few minutes he collected himself and gathered up all his things and made his way back to camp. He didn't talk much that night around the campfire. He just sat there feeling ashamed that he had been so scared. He would later reflect that most 14 year olds probably would have panicked and ran and peed themshelves; but he wasn't sure it was something to be proud of that he had almost done something as stupid as taking on a full grown black bear in hand to paw combat. That is why Butch pretty much felt he had used up a good sized portion of his luck that day.
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The Story of Curtiss is much more boring and run of the mill then Butch's. He became a chef, got fat on his own cooking, got married and divorced, switched back to traditional archery,hunted more some years and less and not at all in others,moved around the country,and is currently living in the city of his birth, unemployed,unloved(except by God and his family)and placing 20 - 30 resumes nationally per week. Going to two to three interviews a week without much happening afterward.Which is probably why he had both the time and inclination for story telling.
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If you cook half as well as you spin a yarn, you will not stay unemployed long! You got some books in you, friend!
Killdeer :notworthy:
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I ditto what Killdeer just said. Thanks for sharing with us.
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nice story !
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Thanks everyone for your kind words. I'm glad you liked my early years autobiography.Do you think if I limited it to Butch 18 and younger and filled it out with more detail it would make a good book for young people? Because I think I could write at least this book.
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Well I can tell you that Curtiss can cook cause I have had some of it most of the shoots we go to together. He makes a pork loin on the campfire that will have you coming back for more.
I think at the Ky. Klassic this weekend he will be the main man in charge of the grub. We may be so full we cant shoot. Oh and he shoots a bow pretty good to.
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Curtiss that's a great idea about Butch the early years. Put in all the 'Tom Sawyerish' adventures that he had. Heck never mind the kids, I'd read it. But then I'm only 47 and a half.
Graham
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Thanks awfully, Graham (you see some Bloody Yanks can, in point of fact, speak English.)
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Another Installment of The Story of Butch.
When Butch was 14 he was walking back from playing baseball and saw his 12 year old sister being pulled into a makeshift "fort" on the edge of the field by a 17 year old neighbor boy. His younger brother was standing there crying. There were a couple of other young teen boys standing around looking both excited and worried. Butch dropped his glove and baseball and took his Louisville Slugger in both hands and ran toward the fort. He yelled his sister's name and the 17 year old came out of the fort. Doug was the boys name and he was tall and over 200 pounds and a junior body building champ. Butch stood his ground with his bat and demanded his sister come out the fort. Doug looked at Butch in contempt and asked him, "Just how do you think you're going to stop me from doing what I want to your sister?" Butch answered in a voice full of young bravado,"Well me and this Louisville Slugger might come up with something." Doug backed off and Butch told his younger brother to help his sister out of the fort. Butch's younger brother went inside the fort and called out that their sister was tied up in the fort. Butch told his younger brother to use his pocket knife to cut the ropes. A few seconds later Both Butch's siblings emerged from the fort. They were both crying and Butch told them to go home he would watch their backs. Doug looked at Butch and said,"You wont always have that bat on you. If you tell anyone about this I'll kill your whole family." Butch laughed bitterly, "You're pretty stupid Doug to threaten a guy with a bat in front of witnesses." Doug looked around and told all the other boys to leave. Butch looked at Doug and shook his head,"You forgot I have four older brothers. I think we'll all be paying you a visit real soon." Butch was nervous and a little scared but he didn't dare show it. Butched backed away from Doug and when he was a good 30 yards away he turned and ran home. Doug's taunts stung his back as he did so.
Butch got home just as his dad was pulling into the driveway. Butch rushed up to him and told him the whole story. Butch had never seen his father so angry. First he went in the house and checked on Butch's younger siblings. Then he stepped out on the porch and did something he was famous in the neighborhood for. Butch's father could whistle through his fingers so loudly you could hear it over a mile away. It was how he called his children home. A few minutes later Butch's four older brothers came running into the yard. Butch's dad looked at his 5 sons explained what happened and then said,"OK the first thing I want you to do is destroy that fort. I don't want one board still standing. After you do that I want you all to go find Doug together. I want you to line up in front of him from youngest to oldest. Tell him that he has to fight you one at a time. He starts with the youngest and has to fight the next in turn until he loses to one or beats you all. I want him beaten. Don't let him hurt Butch too much before you go to the next. Between the 5 of you I want his ass beat. I want him to think long and hard before he ever trys soemthing like this again. Do you all understand?" They all replied that they did.
The fort was gone in less than an hour and the hunt for Doug began. They found him as he was working out with weights inside the screen porch of his home. They called him out and explained what was about to happen. All Doug said was,"Bring it." Butch screamed and leaped. He had been seathing in anger for hours and now he unleashed it. Doug got in one punch before he screamed like a little girl and fell to the ground with Butch on top of him pounding himwith his fists. Butch blackened both his eyes, broke his nose and cracked teeth and still he punched. Butch punched and punched.It didn't appear he would ever stop. Then one especially vicious blow struck Doug on the Adam's apple and Doug began to choke. That is when Butch's older brothers decided to pull Butch off Doug. Butch didn't go easily. He kicked at Doug even as his oldest brother pulled him away with his arms around Butch's chest. He kept telling Butch over and over to calm down it was done. Slowly Butch calmed himself. Shaking as the stress bled off him and tears on his cheeks. Butch's older brother John was the one closest to his age said, "Butch remind me not to make you mad anytime soon, OK?" and everyone laughed and started home. Butch's mother was shocked when she saw that he was covered in blood. She rushed him to the sink and began washing him off and discovered that none of the blood was his.She whispered to him,"That's my boy, my big, strong boy." and she kissed his now clean forehead. She then told Butch to go splash cold water on his face and change his clothes. He did as he was told and by the time he was done it was dinner time.
Soda pop was a special occassion thing in Butch's family. Usually only on weekends that they went to archery shoots across their state. Butch was suprized to see his father opening a gallon jug of his favorite A&W rootbeer and pouring it in a glass and offering it to him. Nothing was said; but it was clear Butch's father was proud of him. The doorbell rang.
Butch's father went to answer it and it was Doug's father and the Police. The police said they needed to talk to the son or son's that had beaten Doug up. Butch stepped forward and said,"It was me." Butch was 5"6" and 160 pounds, barrel chested and stout. Doug was 6"2" and 220, supposedly a red belt in karate. The policeman was told by Butch's father why Butch had done what he had done and the cops looked at Doug's father in a new and less than friendly way. They told Doug's father to go home and they would be along directly to talk to his son. Butch's father asked the policemen if they would like to join his family for dinner. Butch's mother's fried chicken was famous in their town and the policemen readily agree to a meal. Butch's father explained everything to the pilice as they ate. They expressed great suprize that he hadn't just set all his sons on Doug at once. That was when Butch heard something he would remember his whole life. Butch's father looked at the policemen and said, "Even when a man of honor deals with dishonorable scum he should act with honor or else he will become dishonorable scum himself. I raise my sons to be honorable men." The policemen shook hands with Butch, all his brothers and sister and mother and lastly his father to whom they also gave both their cards. Then they went to have achat with Doug.
Butch saw Doug over the next few years and Doug always crossed the street to avoid Butch. Butch liked that. The day Butch left for Basic training he saw in the paper that Doug had been aressted for rape. Butch had thought to himself,"Some jerks never learn."
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I have to agree with you about the English as my American fiance is an English teacher. Another great story by the way.
Graham
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Thanks again Graham
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I must tell you that story was AWESOME!! I was/am so proud of you. It cracked me up when the musclehead crumbled. You were rather selfish not to let your brothers have a turn at Doug. :D Your parents obviously brought you up the right way. Too bad so many kids today don't get treated as well. I like what your dad said about being honorable. Thanks for the stories.
MacGilla
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Brian, I don't see how doing what my father told me to, to be selfish. :bigsmyl: You're welcome. I still don't know why I felt the need to share. I'm just glad you folks have liked reading it.
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TTT for a friend to read.
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stand tall!it will get better
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Butch....
Nice story....You should write the book.
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Yup! :wavey:
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Excellent story! Are you a writer in addition to being a cook? Your story really hooked me, I read every word.
Dave in Ft. Collins, CO
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Keith-I am fully employed now so it did get better someone just e-mailed me and wanted to read the story and couldn't find it.
Mike abnd Killy I am working on it.
dachba-Thanks
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Great read.I got totally emersed in it.Reminded me of some of the Hemingway short stories that he wrote on the Big Two Harted River in the U.P of MI.
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Wow what a great story, I hope your new employment provides you with great happiness and time to continue your writing. Glenn
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HooYah!! I know, I know----thats a Navy battlecry, but I'm Navy. It's a pleasure to make your aquaintance Curtiss.
Jeff
US Navy, SBU-13
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Hey Curtiss, it's great to see this at the top again. There's quite a few new members who probably didn't know about this.....Now where's the book?? :D
Graham
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Curtis thanks! Great story man oh man. I too am honored to make your acquaintance!!!
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Great read! After reading the first two lines I was hooked like a big ole marlin. When is the next installment of the Adventures of Butch coming??!!!
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Good read! Everyone should have a biography written about them, there are a lot of great stories out there.
Adam
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WOW Steelhead being compared to Earnest Hemingway is much too high praise for my writing.
Biorn I was one of the few Marines that almost never called a sailor a squid. Usually I called them "our little brothers" LOL Some sailors thought squids perferable.
madness, I'll bring another memory to the surface and post it.
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In the Summer of Butch's 13 year his brothers and he were given a rare Saturday off from farm work. So they talked it over and decided to go fishing. Living in Southwest Indiana offered an interesting opportunity for them. At the time a child under 18 years of age wasn't required to have a fishing license in either Indiana, Illinois, Kentucky or Missouri. So they all decided it would be cool to fish in 4 diffesrent states in one day. They grabbed their fishing gear, loaded it all into his oldest brothers car and fist head to the Wabash River. They each caught dozens of green sunfish and just threw them back. Butch's Grandma had given him a cottage cheese cotainer of chicken livers and a big zebco reeled stout fishing rod of his Grandpa's to try and catch catfish with and Buth used it on the Wabash and caught a 20 pound flathead that went into the fish cooler. He caught the biggest fish of them all on the Wabash. After an hour and a half they left and headed south to the Ohio River and they stopped at a store on the way and all of Butch's brother bought a pound of chicken livers. Once again Butch caught the biggest fish, a 10 pound channel cat that went into the cooler. After an hour and a half or so they went over the river to Kentucky to a distsance cousin's property and a small lake that was supposed to be full of crappie and hybrid sunfish. Butch caught several redears and a warmouth and threw them back and then tied on a roadrunner and started hauling in the crappie, both black and white. he put an even dozen in the cooler knowing his Grandpa's favorite fish to eat was crappie.After about two hours they headed to Missouri once there they fished with crankbaits and caught a few bass in a small lake at a State park then they headed for home through Illinois and stopped at a fishing hole Butch's second oldest brother knew about. This was also a swimming hole for some of the local teenagers and there were a lot of girl in bikinis that upon seeingf them made Butch blush, This caused his older brothers to tease him mercilessly. Butch went off by hisself and cyhucked out a big chicken on a treble hook and sat down on a moss cover rock. No Sooner had his bottom made contact with the rock that he felt a tug on his line. It was a tremendous tug and his reeled down and set the hook like his father had taught him. and suddenly the pull on his line increased to the point where the fishing rod was almost pulled from his hands. He fought what he thought was a huge fish for over an hour when his brothers found him and started shouting incouragement and advice. He fought it and fought it until finally he was making some headway. Slowly, ever so slowly whatever this fish was on the end of his line was coming in. Then suddenly there was a rush right toward he had to real furiously to keep up with whatever this was then it slowly surged away again and he tried to turn it but couldn't. Again he started making headway ever so slowly bringing the monster fish in now the sun was starting to go down and in the long shadows of the sun's last light it broke the surface near the water's edge. Suddenly there was the head of the biggest snapping turtle Butch had ever seen. Slowly he got it to the shore none of his brothers wanted to you near it. Then his oldest brother pulled out his pocket knife and walked up to the snapper and just cut Butch's line within a few inches of the snappers mouth and turned to them all and said, "Let's get going home I told dad we'd be home by now." Butch just stood there sputtering. He couldn't believe his brother had just let the turtle go like that. Almost three hours of battle for NOTHING!!!!! Butch didn't talk to his older brother for almost a week.
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c2 im very happy for you and your new job!good things happen to good people.keep standing tall and keep writing. well done
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thanks keith
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TTT for a new year and new readers
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Thanks for bringing this back up. I enjoyed reading it. Your a great writer
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Curtiss,
As I was reading your first installment, I thought "what a good story for young people". I'm thoroughly enjoying the stories. I like the way you put it when you decided to hunt with just the bow. "inside the deer's area of influence", or something like that. I couldn't put my finger on it before, but those are the words I needed to describe why I bowhunt. Thanks.
Kids need your stories.
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thank you
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It was January 1973. Butch had just turned 12 and was ice fishing with some friends. We were having fun drinking hot chocolate from Stanley thermoses and catching panfish left and right on my secret bait(maggots dipped into melted bacon grease kept in a can over a small sterno stove).
Well we had our limited at about 2:00pm and were ready for some hot soup and being inside for a time.
Butch finished gathering up all my things and packing them away on my sled as did my friends. They started across the ice toward home. There were cars on the frozen lake so they were carefree as we trotted across the lake, their pack boots crunching in the crusted over snow from the night before.
Well As luck would have it Butch stepped onto a place in the ice where until the night before a shanty had been. The 4X6 feet hole the shanty had set over had only a thin sheet of ice covered by fallen and wind blown snow so that appeared to be the same thickness as all that was around it. It was like stepping onto lightening sand. Butch was very suddenly totally immersed in icey water. The rope from his sled that was heavily ladden with gear(and steel rails) was wrapped tightly around his wrist and mittened hand and was now pulling me to the bottom of the 30 foot deep lake.Butch was just 12 and he did the thing almost anyone would do, he panicked. However he was a smarter more stubburn than average kids and his mind pushed the panic aside and calmly decided what must be done. Butch was ambidexterous and kept a pocketknife in both his front pockets. He pulled his mitten off with his teeth and reached into his pocket took out his knife opened it with his teeth and cut the rope to the sled in one swipe. Butch thanked God for his clear head and his Father for teaching me how to get a razor edge on his knives. That is when Butch realized he had just touched bottom. He could barely see it was so dark. He almost panicked again, but instead with all the strength he could muster pushed off the bottom and kicked and paddled and battled his way up to a solid ceiling of ice. His lungs were burning and screaming for air.He couldn't find the hole he had fallen through. He discovered something then that saved his life. There are pockets of air trapped under the ice that are held between the water and the ice. He could get enough air clawing his way under the ice to keep going. He finally found a place where there was a chunk jutting down that he could hold onto and it looked to him as if the ice beside that chunk was thinner and he started punching that thinner ice for all he was worth. The fifth time he punched it he heard a crack. He redoubled his efforts even though his knuckles were broken and bleeding. As his strength ebbed he prayed a two word prayer,"God Please" and hit the ice one last time and it erupted into the sky and he clawed up onto the ice. His friends were 50 or 60 yards away looking into the place he had gone through and were crying. Not one had gone for help. Soaking wet and shivering like a chihauhau passing a peach pit he walked up behind them and just repeatedly asked them to help him to a fire barrel on shore.
At the shore a park ranger saw him soaking wet and ran to his truck for a wool blanket and to call it in. The ambulance took him to the hospital and his friends ran to his house with a note from the ranger. Aside from his knuckles he wasn't injured. His hand was washed and treated and bandaged. He was given hot liquids to the bursting point and a warm water enema to raise his core temp as quickly and safely as possible. Believe it or not he only started into the stages of hypothermia after he got out of the water. This was also the first time he ever drank coffee. Butch was wired until midnight. When his grandad heard about it he said, "I told you Butch don't have no quit in him.Most boys would have give up and drowned. Butch beat Hell out of the ice and saved hisself." It was at once one of the most horrifying and life affirming events of Butch's life. Butch looked death in the eye since then on more than one occassion and the only reason he believed he was still here to write this little tale is. "Butch dont have no quit in him."
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Butch has no quit in him but he has some great stories. It would be a enjoyable night to share some spirits and a good cigar with you Curtis. Im Irish and we love to hear and tell stories.
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I have Irish blood in my veins too.Thanks for the invitations and compliments.
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Curtis, you my friend are one interesting fella! Some awsome stories you have there.
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Thanks for the kind words Dave.
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One of the best reads I've had in a while.
Please tell me the book is in progress!
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Thank you for sharing this Curtis...
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Curtiss, Great story thanks for bringing it back up so new guys could enjoy it. Sounds like your father was a hell of a MAN!! Joe
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Love these stories :thumbsup:
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WOW you guys are too generous with your praise. I'll try to fill this out to make it a full book. Maybe I'll serialize it in a magazine. That might be easier.
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Great stories thanks for sharing. Hope things are still going well for you.
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Thanks Joel
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ttt
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awesome writing curtis
you have me hooked
THANK YOU
kevin
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In Butch's 15 year he discovered a wild thing he hated to the point of loathing. The incidence that caused this haunts his dreams to this day. You're probably jumping the gun and thinking it's a shunk; but you'd be wrong to do that. So sit back and read along as the story unfolds.
It was Autumn in Northern Michigan and for Butch and his Family that meant hunting season. His Father had taken Butch and his brothers up to Oscoda to hunt the elusive whitetailed deer. Their camp was in a clearing in an Oak grove. There was a large fire ring with a deadfall trunk and stumps around it to sit and talk. The tents were arranged in a semicircle around it. They had spent time in August and September building the camp and setting up ground blinds, pit blinds and for the first time legal in Michigan treestands. Thet had travel lanes, feeding and bedding areas figured out and it was just a matter of waiting for the season to open and being in place before sunrise on opening morning. Butch's family had come up 3 days early to gather blueberries and gather and cut firewood for the 2 week deer camp. Butch had 4 older and one younger brothers in camp so they did the lion's share of the work. On the first day picking wild blueberries Butch had a run in with a bear sow and her fairly large cubs. His head was down and he was intent on filling his bucket first because the one that did that could have a Coca Cola with supper. Butch did notice the bears greedily stripping bushes of fruit just 8 feet away until he heard a low woof. He had heard the sound before and looked up slowly and saw he had a cub on each side of him and one directly in front of him. He backed out just as quietly as he could and got out without incident because all the bears, Momma included, were more interested in blueberries than anything else.
Well opening day of Archery deer season finally came; and sun up found Butch in a pit blind he had dug himself between some sassafras trees and in front of a large boulder sticking out of the ground. He had put dead branches and ferns and other handy things in front to help conceal himself. He was off to one side of a trail from a feeding area to a bedding area and closer to the later. the wind was in his face, as his father had instructed him to be aware of and he had an arrow nocked with a razor sharp Bear Razorhead on the business end. Just as the sun hit the tree tops 5 deer came into veiw headed right down the trail he was 10 yards from. The last deer in line was a nice plump doe. Butch readied himself and as he past he came to full draw picked a spot behind her shoulder and then just before his fingers loosed the string he did something he had never done before, nor since, nor has he ever heard of anyone doing.......Butch sneezed, not just any sneeze but a genuine MONSTER of a sneeze. He had never felt a tickle or had any warning it would happen. It was a total suprize. When he could open his eyes he saw his arrow sticking out the exit wound of the doe who was running flatout towards the bedding area. He could tell even fron 70 yards away it was too far back. He waited where he was and watched other deer walk by. At noon he went back to camp to tell his Dad what had happened and get advice. The decision was made to give the doe over night to bleed out and at first light EVERYONE would help in the search. Butch's Dad was glad Butch hadn't taken up the bloodtrail and probably pushed the doe. He told Butch he had done the right thing.
Butch didn't sleep much that night. In fact he was out of bed, dressed and tending to the fire when his Dad came out of his tent at 04:00 as 4AM was called in his Dad's deer camp. "You get any sleep, Butch?"; his Father asked. ""Not much Dad,couldn't." "I understand. Well grab a latern and I'll get one too and we'll leave a note for the others to follow after the get up and situated."
They started at first blood as if the shot had happened an hour ago, not the over 20 it had been. An hour later they found the doe and Butch ran up to her body and knelt down beside her and laid his had on her side. Then Her side shook and wiggled and there was a wail of somekind, loud and horrifying and then from her belly erupted the biggest oppossum either Butch or his Father had ever seen. It was totally covered in semi congeled blood and it hissed and bared its needle sharp teeth, that glowed eerily in the moonlight, at Butch and charged at him. like something from the depths of Hades. Butch screamed and did an actual somersault backwards away from the hideous beast and picked up a dead branch on the ground that just happened to be there and from his kneeling position swung the branch like a baseball bat with all the strength he could muster and positively launched the possum end over end about 20 feet with a sickening crunch. It was then Butch realized that he was soaked with sweat and to his shame urine. His Father put a shaky hand on his shoulder and asked if he was alright. He was ; but he was embarrassed more than he had words for that he had peed himself. "Hey, when that nasty thing came up out of that deer I almost did it too and I was 15 feet away not inches. You've got nothing to be ashamed of. That was the most horrible suprize I have ever seen in MY life. I have worse news than wet pants for you though. That doe is ruined. Oppossums foul the carrcases they find to keep other scavengers off it." Just then they saw the oppossum limp away into cover.
Butch's Dad told the story many times around the campfire over thge years and never once mentioned how Butch had wet himself. From that day forward Butch found he absolutely loathed oppossums. He never killed one out of spite or any other reason but he always ran one off when they crossed paths and even sent a rubber blunt or two at one a time or two. That hedious, needle toothed, hissing grin has greeted him in many a bad dream over the years. He just calls them "Nasty Critters" and leaves it at that. So now you know the wild thing Butch learn to loath. See I told you it wasn't a shunk.
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These storys are great, looking forward to the next one!
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Thaks for the stories Curtiss, I really enjoy them, keep um comin! :thumbsup: :clapper:
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I enjoyed it,thanks Larry.
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You're welcome Larry and glad you liked it.
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thanks again!
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Awesome read, thanks for sharing it with us!
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Thanks for a nice story Curtiss. Frank
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Glad you liked it Frank and everyone else.
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ttt 4 most resent addition
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more to come soon
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I read these stories when they were origonally up but enjoyed them just as much the second time around! Thanks for sharing Curtiss! You can sure tell a great story!
Denny
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Thank you very much Denny
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More to come? Waiting for more great reading!
Denny
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TTT 4 a friend
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Curtiss, I've just finished reading the whole group. Its some of the best I've read in a long time. Good stories and good writing. (I've had a few stories published) Keep it up and let me know when you compile them into a book! I want the first autographed copy!!!!
Thanks again, Johnny/JAG
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Great read, thanks for bringing it up.
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thanks guys