“A son-father hunt is the best way to say “Thank You!” for a lifetime of outdoor enjoyment. “Take a father hunting” is more than a play on words. If you are like most sportsmen, a fatherly figure spent quality time, displayed endless patience, paid for licenses, guns and clothing and helped to mold the hunter you have become. Dads don’t do it for paybacks. In fact, returning the favor is the last thing he will expect and the biggest reason it’s such a good idea. The words you are reading, the clothing you wear, the game you hunt have been dramatically influenced by a generation of fathers who passed on a heritage of hunting enthusiasm and skill.
Cherished Memories
Maryland held its first spring gobbler season in the early 1970’s and my father and I were together for opening day. We knew little about spring turkey hunting back then, except that we should listen for a gobble, get close, and call with hen yelps. Our first morning, we heard a tom sound off at daybreak, moved a quarter mile closer, and called. I saw a white spot emerge from a patch of laurel, watched it turn blue and then red before realizing that it was a turkey. A hasty shot bagged the gobbler and the spring season invaded our lives for a lifetime. The tom weighted 22 pounds and had three beards. I had taken the day off school and Dad was a little late also as we made a barber shop circuit, today’s likeness of “going viral.” .
Over the next 35 years, Dad and I never missed a turkey opener, doing our best to share information, bird locations, calling techniques and whatever else needed to tag a bird. Each call or close call we relived over and over again for the enjoyment of hunters and friends as well as learning from mistakes.
Payback are Swell
I planned a son/father trip for the spring of 1994, using the Easter vacation to accommodate my 
school schedules. Dad had retired and the 12 hour drive could have been boring or mundane, but we filled it with excitement about the impending hunt and enjoyed our time together.
We arrived at The White Oak Plantation late Thursday evening, just in time for dinner and a glass of their renowned sweat tea. Eddie Salter joined us at breakfast the next morning, an acquaintance made possible by another father/son team- Toxy Haas, President of Haas Outdoors (Mossy Oak) and his father, “Mr. Fox.”
The White Oak Plantation was a father/sons endeavor also. Robert Pitman senior oversees the entire operations with son Bo and wife Tuey key players in the daily hunting details. Two huge murals of the Pitman family adorn the walls of the main lodge and you will never see a warmer family portrait.
Hunting Hang-Ups
Dad and his guide located a gobbler, yet they had to sit motionless for an hour. Another hour passed as muscles cramped and challenged hunter and guide to be still and patient. Finally, the gobbler began to walk toward Dad. Tension ruled. When the bird was inside of 40 yards, Dad stood up and shot, but missed. Apparently the strain of crouching for two hours had cramped his muscles and his normal never-miss coordination faltered.
The son portion of the Byers team wasn’t doing much better. Salter suggested taking things easy until about 3:00 p.m. and then tried a set-up with abundant calling. Sure enough, within 30 minutes he had two gobblers on a string. The birds came from an extensive distance through a palmetto swamp and onto an old logging road. The cameraman and Salter were directly behind me as the two birds strutted and sauntered toward us, beards swinging like pendulums. At 30 yards the lead tom stretched his neck and I squeezed the trigger.
Nothing happened. I squeezed again. Still nothing. “Shoot!” whispered Salter in disbelief. I moved the safety up and back, yet the brand new over-and-under would not fire. I had opened the breech of the over/under carefully and slipped in two shells, yet did not open it far enough to cock the shotgun, immensely embarrassing.
The Greatest Generation
Tom Brokaw has done much to tout the accomplishments of those who fought in World War II and as a baby-boomer (Born in 1946) I have benefited from the wisdom and love of that generation. Back in 1941, my father picked up the mail and noticed a letter from Selective Service. The letter said that one of the Byers brothers (twins) had to report for duty and Dad destroyed the letter and signed up. Serving in the 164th Infantry, he rose to the rank of first lieutenant in the Pacific campaign. His war experiences were traumatic and are partially documented in the book Combat Officer, A Memoir of War in the South Pacific by Charles H. Walker, Despite his extensive combat experience, Dad never spoke of the war, choosing to put the pain behind him. Proud to do his patriotic duty, he had one lingering regret, an incident that still quickly brought tears to his eyes. Most savvy Lieutenants had a First Sergeant that taught them the ropes and E Company’s Bill Bailey played that role for Dad. An experienced soldier of many Pacific campaigns, he volunteer to fill in for a soldier with a dangerous mission on his last day of combat. Bailey was killed, a tragic blow to my father. Dad superior officer would not allow him to write to Bailey’s family back in West Virginia, to share the bravery of their son and the difference his life had made on the battle field. Dad regretted that inability terribly.
Road Trip of a Lifetime
Dad and I hunted together until he was 95- years-old and our turkey hunting pace slowed a bit. We don’t walk as far or hunt as long, yet the desire and the passion for spring gobbles and a circle of tail feathers had not diminished. The turkey hunting fraternity does much to promote the JAKES Program and rightfully so. However, we should be sure we salute the Generals that made us what we are today. Sadly, dad’s cancer wrote the final chapter of our hunting adventures, yet we filled as many pages with kind thoughts and caring deeds as possible. We can’t change the course of life, but we can maximize the trip together. Pass the lure of turkey hunting to the next generation, but don’t forget the one who brought you to the fold. A son/father hunt is an experience you will treasure forever…
