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)

Why, C2, that's a beautiful story. I can't wait to read the rest of it.

Are you Butch.....?

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)

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.

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

Pretty Damn neat story. I enjoyed it.  

I've been spell bound and on the edge since yesterday, don't stop lets hear more...Rusty

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.

So what did he do next?  :eek:  

Killdeer

I have heard bits and pieces of this story in the last four years. Now I know it all. Thanks.

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.

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.

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  

I ditto what Killdeer just said. Thanks for sharing with us.

nice story !

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.

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.

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

Thanks awfully, Graham (you see some Bloody Yanks can, in point of fact, speak English.)

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."