Bow hunting brings back a lot of memories all the way back to when I was almost crawling. My dad and some friends in the Knoxville area used to gather around and make their own arrows. They were among the first legal bow hunters in the state and formed one of the areas first archery clubs. Dad started me out on a Rew Wing hunter 50 pounder if I remember right.
The judge is what we need more of in our court rooms. I've heard some god old fashioned country judges in our neck of the woods and you can bet they carry themselves.
Rew = Red
How are you cva? Been a long time since we talked.
One of the state’s largest outdoor organizations used to meet in Knoxville, was a collection of small archery, ‘coon, bear, boar hunting clubs.
I used to attend the meetings back in the 1990s when I edited an outdoor magazine. They’d have a wild game banquet every year. I remember standing in the buffet line, getting samples of all sorts of cooked critters, when a TWRA regional manager (now retired) said “I wouldn’t eat that racoon if I was you.”
He told me about all the parasites ‘coons carry.
I wouldn’t be surprised if your Dad belonged to that organization. It was the small groups across the state banding together to form the Tennessee Conservation League that led to the legendary changes in the way the state’s wildlife were managed.
Judge Moon was one of the early bow hunting enthusiasts. Former state Rep. H.E. Bittle (Knoxville) gave me my first bow shooting lessons, on the UT campus (Ag Dept.) after a meeting I attended of the east Tennessee Sportsman’s Association.
Those were the days. I actually got to meet some of the oldtimers in the state’s conservation movement, and they were all hunters. One of these oldtimers took me to an old hunting camp where these men used to hunt/camp. He told me stories about how, in those days, it was rare to see a deer track, and unheard of to harvest one.
The place was full of deer, but I didn’t get one that day. I did, however, publish an article about how those men must have felt, used the names of the early leaders in the league who hunted the very spot I did. The man who took me there was present with them at the hunting camp, in the 1940s, ‘50s, when they dreamed of restoring species like whitetail deer and wild turkey.
I tip my hat to your Dad. He was probably one of those visionaries who watched Fred Bear and dreamed of someday harvesting big game with a bow.