Greetings all and a Good Morning to you. How about this bunch? Nice looking bunch and they are so young looking. Can you believe that this bunch have reached their retirement years and a few have been retired for several years? We are talking about a group of students that were born in the early forties! Count it up, and now it is some sixty years later. My or my, if this bunch is sixty years old or older, where does that make us "Old Timers". Oh well, I saw a couple of this group at the last Rockport reunion and they are looking well. A few gray hairs, but still looking fit. They could probably play a game of basketball and cheerlead. Way to stay looking young, Class of 1948.

I grew up with these grade school students. Although most were three of four years younger than me, I still played with and in later years hunted with most of the students. That leads me into a hunting story. I can recall several stories, but will stick to one, thus don't want to take up a lot of your time.

Like most of us, Lacy Blackburn was raised with a gun in his hand and he hunted small game from about the time that he could walk. He went through several phases of hunting, but my story is in the time frame when he loved to rabbit hunt. He went on to raise "Field Trial" beagle hounds and participated in that sport. He was also a very good shot with a shotgun and at one time was State Champion in "Trap Shooting". Getting ahead of myself, as this story is in the time frame when he and I were just normal rabbit hunters.

One particular time, Lacy, my brother John, and I were on a rabbit hunting trip and had not been very successful. In the mid-fifties, to come home empty handed from a hunting trip and not getting a chance to fire your gun was not a rare occurence. We had walked for several hours and were tired, probably disappointed and looking for some form or excitement or at least a chance to fire our guns. Where Lacy was a "Crack Shot" with a shotgun, John was just the opposite. He could not hit a moving target and Lacy was aware of John's limited use of a shotgun. As most of you know, a shotgun shell contains a hundred or so pellets and when fired in a gun will produce a spray pattern some thirty inches or so wide, at a distance of sixty or so feet. Thus, the shooter just needs to gage his range and place that pattern of shot on the target at a desired range. A shotgun can be deadly up to a hundred feet, maybe a little further, but much further than that, they are about useless.

Lacy was smart enough to be able to size up a situation and if it favored him, he would initiate some action and especially if the action was competition or even a bet. As the old saying goes-"He knew when to hold and when to fold". He kept teasing John, and on occasion would throw his hunting hat in the air and dare John to shoot as his hat. John was not one to ignore a dare and after a few times of Lacy throwing his hat in the air, John took a shot at the hat and missed. Lacy picked up his undamaged hat, placed it on his head, and told John to be watching for his hat to be in the air again. Soon, Lacy threw his hat back up in the air and John missed again. After several more tries, Lacy asked John to throw his hat in the air, but John knew that his hat may not fare so well and he was able to keep his hat on his head. Not for long though. With Lacy teasing and prodding, John threw his hat up and Lacy's shot was dead center. Although the hat was not destroyed, it certainly had seen the worse for wear. Well, lots of fun and laughs, but not the end of story. John was able to convince Lacy to throw his hat in the air one more time. Thus, Lacy pulled his undamaged hat off his head and tossed it in the air. This time John was prepared and knew that this would be the last chance to get even. He waited for the hat to hit the ground, took a step or two toward the unmoving hat and fired. The shot blasted the hat with the full force of the pellets. A puff of grass, dust and hat rose from the ground area where the hat lay and I almost busted a gut laughing. While not quite fair in a gentleman's game, it did level the playing field and we all laughed back to the truck and have laughed on many occasion since. End of story.

My thanks for the person that sent the grade school picture to me. I think that the picture may have originated from Dale. Cookie may have been the one that sent it to me. Anyway, thanks you two.

Thanks for looking and reading. Appreciate your time and energy.