As I walked through the crowd at the “Back to School Bash” held in Whitesburg on July 26, the people — some that I didn’t even know — came up to me and thanked me for Struttin’ Time.
Wherever I go people always want to tell me how much they enjoy the hunting adventures we take —you through the written word, and me being your guide.
As we have talked before, I am amazed at the women who read Struttin’ Time. I spied a lifelong friend of mine standing in the shadows of the gazebo. It was Shannon Yonts, and I haven’t seen her in years. She has always been one of my favorite people, so I walked up to speak to her. The first thing from her mouth: “Steve, I read every Struttin’ Time.”
Words cannot express how humble that makes me feel. Then she said, “You are quite the hunter,” to which I replied, “Being born and raised in McRoberts, what else was there to do?”
The same smile she has had for years spread across her face, and I could feel the friendship we have always had for each other renew itself.
I’m afraid that I am a dying breed, and how sad that can be. The youth of our nation, when it comes to things like being outdoors, is in a steep decline. I’m on the backside of life. It may not happen before I cross the “Silent River,” but that day is coming when the great outdoors will have lost all appeal.
How many reading this Struttin’ Time are planning on being in the woods on the third Saturday of August, the 17th, to hunt with some young person? I would like to hear a shot from every direction come opening morning, about every 10 seconds apart. That would thrill my old heart.
I would like for every person, hunter or just a reader to commit to getting the kids off their cellphones, computers, and games for the opening day of squirrel season. I will commit myself to take some child hunting that morning, no matter where it is in the Commonwealth of Kentucky.
If you want them to hunt with me, contact me through The Mountain Eagle. If you don’t have my Facebook page or my e-mail address, they will let me know.
Thanks again, readers, and may the “Great Spirit” of the hunt keep you from ever tasting hunger.