By Joe Smith

January 4, 2015

November 2, 2014 would have been my Dad's 95th birthday. He died in 1983 from Lou Gehrig's disease, ALS which is a horrible way to go. As I got in my blind that Sunday morning about an hour before sunup, I said a quiet little prayer wishing my Pop a happy birthday. I asked him, if he had any influence, to send me a nice buck. Our lease had some nice bucks, but food was plentiful, water was good, and the deer had just not been coming to the feeders. As the sun came up, I saw a darkened form about 10 yards from the feeder on the edger of the brush. Not knowing what it was, I looked through my Kahles binoculars and saw that it was a buck, but how big? I grabbed my custom Kimber 25-300 wsm loaded with 117 grain Hornady SST's behind 62.5 grains of Reloder 22 and watched the deer through the Swarovski scope. For a few minutes, which seemed like hours he would not present himself or give me a good look. Finally out of desperation, I hit my grunt call very softly and he stuck his head straight up. He was a beautiful big 8 point which I had on camera several times. He took one step and honestly, I do not remember pulling the trigger. After the walk to the blind, I saw my buck. I knealt beside him and lifted my prayers thanking God for giving me the freedom to hunt his creatures, and thank my Dad for giving me this beautiful buck. My Dad was not a hunter, he was a fisherman, but I really believe he was watching over me and I thank him for that. The plaque below the mount will read "From my Pop, Nov. 2, 2014"