Gun Safety According to Bruce Lavern

It is said that we do not inherit the earth from our parents; we actually borrow it from our children.  That is why it is important that each generation teach the next generation the values, traditions, and skills that they have learned.  That way, the next generation will be ready to manage the earth that we have been holding in trust for them.  The James family is rich in traditions passed from one generation to the next over the years.  One of my favorites is the tradition of hunting.  It is wonderful to see young children at deer camp running and playing.  Of course, the little ones are not out in the woods hunting, but they are part of “deer camp” and they start learning the camp culture early.  When they get a little older, they go on short ventures squirrel hunting with Dad and the other adults.  Eventually they are allowed to go with an adult to a deer stand and finally after many years they are allowed to venture out on their own. 

Deer hunting is an annual event like Christmas and, like Christmas; it does not come often enough or last long enough to satisfy those who love it.  Squirrel hunting, on the other hand, can be learned early and enjoyed for a much longer season.  Most of the younger boys hunted year round with a bean flip or sling shot as some call it.  They followed the squirrel dog through the timber all over the mountain until the dog chased a squirrel up a tree.  Then, the hunters surrounded the tree and flung rocks with their bean flips until they knocked the squirrel out of the tree.  Sometimes they got the squirrel and sometimes the squirrel got away. 

As the kids got bigger and the times got better, they got to use a .22 rifle.  Grandpa had a small single shot rifle.  It is so small that it resembles a toy.  But, when shells were available and the dog was doing his job, you could count on a mess of squirrels for dinner.  Many of the young boys were introduced to the mechanics of hunting by tagging along. When the dog treed, they would go with their father or uncle to where the dog was barking.  Often, the hunter would send the young boys around to the other side of the tree.  As the clumsy kids clattered around the tree, the squirrel would move to the opposite side of the tree providing a clear shot for the real hunter.  Occasionally, the adult would allow one of the kids to actually make the shot.  After that happened a few times, the boy knew it would not be much longer before he would be allowed to carry a gun into the woods.

Donnie and I loved to be in the woods.  If any adult even mentioned going hunting or fishing, we begged to go along.  Occasionally, we would hide the squirrel dog and tell one of the uncles that we would go find the “lost” dog if we could go with them hunting.  His dad, my dad, uncle, friend, whoever was going, we wanted to go, too.  Now, that was just part of the begging routine.  The other part was to ask if we could carry guns.  It was a ritual sort of like Charlie Brown and the football.  He tried to kick it every time and Lucy moved it every time.  We asked and begged to carry a gun every time and we were told no every time.  Every time, that is, until one day Bruce Laverne and David were home for a visit and Bruce decided to go squirrel hunting.  He may have decided to go squirrel hunting because we had asked him to take us about a hundred times since daylight.  But, he decided to go anyway.

We ran to the back bedroom and got down the rifles and shells.  Yes, rifles with an “S”.  By this time, Gerald and Lytle both had several guns on their bedroom wall and we younger boys knew all about each one.   We got one for each of us and went back out to the front porch.  “Wait a minute.  What are you doing with all those guns?” Bruce asked.  “Well, if we are all going hunting, we all need guns,” came our reply.  To our amazement, he did not tell us to get those guns back in the house.  Instead, he told us to gather ‘round because we needed to understand some things before we went to the woods.  In those days, late 1950s or early 1960s, there were no hunter safety classes.  There was only what the older generation taught the younger generation.  Bruce told us about how to carry and handle the guns.  He also told us there would be no loaded guns.  We were to carry the guns empty and when we arrived at the spot where Bob (the squirrel dog) treed, then and only then would we load the guns.  After a few more minutes of instruction, we turned loose Bob and he headed over the hill toward Brasel Creek with all of us following behind.

As we wandered the hills, once in a while one of the boys would catch the eye of another and pointing to his rifle mouth the words “we have guns.”  The squirrels evidently had heard that the new hunters were on the prowl and that they had GUNS not just bean flips because they were few and far between.   As usual, competition and rivalry got us in trouble.  We were thinking ahead to how fast we could shoot when and if we ever found a squirrel because one by one we each slipped a cartridge into our rifle preparing for the big event.  The big event turned out a little different from what we had imagined.

Bruce came to a large downed log and sat down.  “Boys, gather ‘round here, I need to talk to you.”  We sat on the log beside him and waited for our next instructions.  “Remember, I told you safety is the number one rule when you have a gun in the woods.  One of the rules I told you for today was not to load your gun until we got to where Bob was treed.  Now, open those bolts and let me see those empty chambers.”  Oh my goodness.  One by one, we each slowly pulled back the bolt of our rifle to reveal a cartridge in the chamber.  Game over!  “You all are not ready to go hunting with me.  Give me all your shells.” 

Bruce did not get angry.  He did not yell and tell us how bad we were.  We already knew.  After he gathered up all the ammo, he simply said, “Let’s go to the house.”  With that, he stood up and began walking up that long hill back to the house with three heartbroken little boys following him.  David, Donnie and Tony had blown an early opportunity to show maturity.  However the lesson of that early failed hunt would last a lifetime.  I do not remember that hill ever being tougher to climb than it was that day.  

Insult was added to injury when we got back to the house.  We laid the one or two squirrels that we had killed on the step and went in the house for a minute.  When we came back out our bounty was gone!  A quick survey of the area revealed dogs out in the pasture pulling and fighting over a squirrel carcus.  Not only had we go busted by Bruce on our first real squirrel hunt, we did not even get to keep the squirrels.  I guess, Bob and that other stupid hound had a much better day than we did.  I never had an opportunity to hunt with Bruce again.  But, I never take gun safety for granted and I never check the chamber on any gun without thinking of Uncle Bruce. 

Years later, I think about Bruce’s decision to immediately end the hunt and go home.  I bet he learned that from his Dad at the card table.  Remember, if there was any cheating at the table, everyone went home.  Thank you, Uncle Bruce, for teaching us that lesson.

And that's the way I heard it on the mountain,
Tony Peoples