May 31, 2025 • 14 mins
The day after Memorial Day, I reflected back to Vietnam and the loss of my best friend when out on night patrol. He had just been in Vietnam after going through basic training for seven days. On the seventh night, he was shot in the neck by a sniper and died. I miss him dearly and Memorial Day made me reflect back on life and what is important.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
Hello waterfowlers, this is the old timer coming to you from
downtown Memphis. This is going to be episode 61
entitled Reflection. Before I get to that, I'm coming
to you one day after Memorial Day.
So it was a sad day for me. I lost several of my friends
during the Vietnam War, which was a horrible time for me.
(00:20):
I was in in military then, at that time at the Air Force, did
not have to go to Vietnam. I've had to.
I served my required two years and then came home to practice
medicine. During that time when I was
flying, I was in Europe, South America, Central America, of
course, the United States, back and forth between all of those
(00:40):
places, flying some medevac missions and also supplying
embassies with supplies. I did not have to serve in the
war. A lot of my good friends who
were killed, did I regret it. I remiss them.
I love them. I lost one of my best buddies,
if not my best buddy, Charles Steagall.
(01:01):
He went into the Army, went through basic training, was sent
to Vietnam, and then on seven nights, half, seven days, seven
nights, he was on the night patrol on the 7th night and
received a bullet from a sniper through his neck and was killed.
He had the longest funeral procession I've ever been
(01:24):
around. He was just one super guy.
I miss Charles to this very day and I thank him for giving his
life to the country and sorry hehad to do so.
I know a lot of you have gone through the same similar things
so war is horrible. I pray for peace.
(01:45):
We're in a difficult time in this country.
So I'll get on with that and thinking about his death.
I, I really got the reflecting on on life in general and things
and where we are where I am and I just came up.
I'll just do a reflection story to, I don't know, leave, maybe
make me feel better. But here we go.
(02:07):
Episode 61 reflection. As we passed down the aging
clock of time, we hardly appreciate the splendors that
have faded from memory until scenes of bliss come back to us
like voices from the bygone thatwe loved and lost.
Scenes of happiness that come back as bright as a painting on
(02:28):
the canvas of memory. As if a button was pushed that
opened memories thought to events that made life happy in
the longo. And so it is on this day that my
mind drifts back to yesteryear's.
Here at the lake I am but half awake and no jarring, clanging
alarm has aroused me. As the great half light of late
(02:51):
early morning surrounds my tent,I listen in vain for a familiar
sound of the city, forgetting I am in the country.
My ears are not deafened by the brain racking, disjointed note
of hurrying cars and trucks up on the resounding asphalt and
concrete highways. Where am I, I wonder.
(03:14):
Instead of the noise of autos, that indescribable murmur which
penetrates my ears is the sound of the lakes wavelets kissing
the ancient cypresses along the shore.
I think of broken appointments, of lost business opportunities
and waiting people. Let them wait.
(03:34):
Is not my life mine? Slowly the shroud of since
numbing sleep is dispersed. I am camped on the shores of
this off visited lake and from the earliest of times home to
thousands of bottom land acres because of breaks, sloughs and
values during the hunting seasonfor thousands of waterfowl.
(03:57):
Soon I am excited and uplifted by the harmonious chorus of
ducks that a pouring forth melodies of such sweetness and
happiness as can come only from hearts and solidarity with the
spirit of Mother Nature. How tender and comforting are
the notes of the waterfowl's melodies that are flooding the
(04:18):
entire sky with music, or so it seems to me.
I'm reluctant to get up until I seem to hear a poet say, Get up,
get up, the beautiful morn upon her arms presents God's unchorn.
See how Mother Nature tosses arefair by quilted tents through
the air. Get up, I advise, and advance to
(04:40):
sea, the sky, the sunrise, ducksand trees.
Still I remain, half dreaming. More and more ducks have joined
a course opened by the others, till the very air seems alive,
pulsating with sweet sounds of music to my ears.
Outside, as I stand beneath the spreading branches of the great
(05:01):
cypresses, I am moved excitinglyby the richness of Mother
Nature. Oaks, poplars, Elms and sweetgum
trees that nod their welcome to gentle breezes which raft the
fragrance of fleeting leaves from the rainbow tinted forest
canopy. Indeed, Mother Nature's painting
is stunning and breathtaking, and I am in awe of it.
(05:26):
I'll destitute the rich. And how an enlightened, the
wise, A few men. Poor as the world counts riches,
but rich as God measures live their lifetimes in an attempt to
lead the masses out into the freedom of the outdoors.
But slaves we are slaves to business gods and slaves of
custom. We are tied down by ironclad
(05:48):
edicts and rules until no Bandera be true to himself.
Why should I be ashamed? Because men say I idle away time
in the outdoors and Mother Nature there is such a thing as
a worthwhile idleness, a messagewhich we of this generation need
to learn. While pottering about the far
(06:09):
pie preparing breakfast, I pauseoften to listen to the ducks
which everywhere flutter overhead in the awakening dawn.
Not even the thought of missing the opening day shooting time
can hurry me. I am resolved that nauseating
haste shall not blemish these halcyon days.
I drank my coffee and eat my breakfast restfully, stopping
(06:32):
often to listen to the featheredtribe.
The sky is resplendent with music and one must be
unflappable indeed, who would beindifferent by the sweet sound?
Out on the lake, I stand silhouetted against the golden
reddish glow of the rising sun that forebodes a beautiful day.
It is so large and full of life,while I still hopeful and
(06:56):
innocent and young. Or at least I think I am.
Battle away, a mourning in the blind with long forgotten
sensations surging exhaustively throughout my body.
Startled from my thoughts, I gazed upward to listen to the
cheerful songs of the ducks highin the sunset kissed sky.
(07:17):
The expression on my face tells everyone if they could see me,
that I am happy. Happy, happy.
My face aglow, my eyes gleaming,my head thrown back, my jaw
dropped and my lips apart. A well heeled man once said I
would give all my possessions just to see and hear for a few
(07:38):
minutes what that man sees and hears.
Many would say that Hunter is richer than any millionaire who
is poor, for he did not hear thesong of the birds in the sky
watching the spectacle taking place in the early morning
sunlight. Supposedly I'm hunting, but the
taking of a duck now and then issecondary.
(07:59):
Actually, I am dreaming a dreamyday away.
Often wonder what others were dreaming when they stopped by
this beautiful lake. Nevertheless, overhead the sun
beams out of a clear blue sky, while shadowy featured figures
borne on the whistling wings of the awakening Zephyr, so distant
as to appear very small, fly silently across the intervening
(08:23):
space. As the distance rapidly lessens,
the ducks swing in majestic circles above my decoys,
widening or narrowing as suits their fancy.
So I allow my duck call to rule the moment.
Impulse, urge, and coveting words of that types consume me
as I wait for their expectedly approach.
(08:45):
Boom boom Jesse, my yellow lab dashes forth and retrieves
Florida State 1 duck after another, delivering each to the
waiting hand. There is a bond between us, a
synergism that links me to her and her to me, all of which is
immeasurable and beautiful beyond describing.
(09:06):
It is now that I spend a few quiet moments simply watching
the ducks do what ducks do and for a few more moments I find
myself deep in reflection of thebeauty that surrounds me.
With the limit coming quickly I once again ponder over there
quite beauty 1000 times. A beautiful scene perhaps seen
(09:28):
but once in a lifetime up on this earth can never be
forgotten. I pull my boat out of the water
and ramble over the forest clad setting until I lay down
underneath an oak tree which hasbeen disfigured and deformed by
many a thunderstorm and rest upon the soft fallen leaves
until hunger bids me to arouse myself.
(09:51):
Then returning to the boat, I take the ducks I have from the
recess of the morning and negotiate the well known path
towards camp where the ducks arecooked while the day hurries on.
But I am not rushed by the lengthening shadows, all the
while enjoying my meal, until the sun passes this to the and
(10:12):
is slowly departing through the trackless skies.
Now the breath of air disturbs the peace of the evening, and
the drooping eyelids of the parting day close gently down
over the lovely scene indelibly painted upon memory's mind by
the last rays of the fading light, while the late,
sufficiently impressive and extraordinary to demand
(10:34):
accolades of wonder, and the gathering shadows of advancing
night rouse the old, who dial atlast from his reverie.
Thus Jesse and I return my boat and row out into the earthly
light of darkness, with the moonabove the horizon reminding me
that another day is close to being history.
(10:55):
The waves that form it to bow myboat divide as my boat glides
away in ever winding wavelets until lost in the darkness and
the young moon in the dark soft night, the soothing sound of a
single Mallard hen reverberates over the tranquil lake.
Once tied up, I retreat to the tent and dream of a more
(11:18):
beautiful world than the one that keeps watch over me.
The next morning I stand on the shore to look and listen.
I ponder. Perhaps the lake is not quite so
beautiful in other's eyes as it is in mine.
Perhaps the pantails are dressedjust as magnificent elsewhere,
(11:39):
and the mallards sing just as enthusiastically.
Perhaps the wild lilies grow as coplessly in other reedy lakes,
And perhaps the cattails and thetrees along the shore, the wood
ducks, until the fox squirrels and coons are just as many and
just as fine elsewhere. But even then you would not have
(12:00):
this beautiful lake. It is here where I pause while
camping, always to eat a moon pie and drink an RC Cola, and
where I go to watch the precision and poetry of ducks
disappear out of sight into the sky, and then find the ducks
again, skydiving to land in my decoys.
(12:21):
But most of all, it is where I go to get away from the asphalt
and concrete jungle of city life, to reminisce of the bygone
days. However, it is more than that.
It is a place of love, of real joy, of real security, a place
where Placid water and the soft darkness and sunlight combined
(12:42):
into sweet memories. It is a place where I can just
go and listen and understand themadness in this world well.
I can let all of my pain, stress, and hardship take a
backstage to rapture, happiness and bliss.
And I thank God every day for His creation that I've been able
to enjoy. I love Mother Nature.
(13:05):
She holds no secrets for me. She is my comforter in sadness,
my friend in happiness. She stills me with an
overpowering sense of sacredness.
At home once again, I await the calling of the Red Gods calling
me away from a whirl of distrustand money grubbing to a land of
harmony, peace and happiness where the sun never quits
(13:28):
shining and the full moon never fails to impress me.
You know, I just like I said, sometimes I at old age like I am
a old timer. I just sat around and reflect
back on the old days and and Memorial Day and the death of my
best friend Charles Steagall. I miss you Charles.
(13:49):
I sat down and wrote this littlereflection story the day
afterwards Memorial Day. I know this is not what you're
used to on my podcast, but I promise you on episode 62, we'll
get back to duck hunting and andthe history of duck hunting.
In the meantime, I hope you visit my website,
(14:09):
waterfowling.net and if you see anything on there you like this,
let me know. Try to get it for you.
The books and DVD disc of Old time hunting.
All my stuff is historical duck hunting history, nothing modern,
up to date, how you put your decoys out and all that stuff.
I just want to say to everybody out there, go to church, love
(14:33):
you God, love your family, take care of your family and
especially your children. It's a difficult time in life.
Closing with May God bless.
Hello waterfowlers, this is the old timer coming to you from
downtown Memphis. This is going to be episode 61
entitled Reflection. Before I get to that, I'm coming
to you one day after Memorial Day.
So it was a sad day for me. I lost several of my friends
during the Vietnam War, which was a horrible time for me.
(00:20):
I was in in military then, at that time at the Air Force, did
not have to go to Vietnam. I've had to.
I served my required two years and then came home to practice
medicine. During that time when I was
flying, I was in Europe, South America, Central America, of
course, the United States, back and forth between all of those
(00:40):
places, flying some medevac missions and also supplying
embassies with supplies. I did not have to serve in the
war. A lot of my good friends who
were killed, did I regret it. I remiss them.
I love them. I lost one of my best buddies,
if not my best buddy, Charles Steagall.
(01:01):
He went into the Army, went through basic training, was sent
to Vietnam, and then on seven nights, half, seven days, seven
nights, he was on the night patrol on the 7th night and
received a bullet from a sniper through his neck and was killed.
He had the longest funeral procession I've ever been
(01:24):
around. He was just one super guy.
I miss Charles to this very day and I thank him for giving his
life to the country and sorry hehad to do so.
I know a lot of you have gone through the same similar things
so war is horrible. I pray for peace.
(01:45):
We're in a difficult time in this country.
So I'll get on with that and thinking about his death.
I, I really got the reflecting on on life in general and things
and where we are where I am and I just came up.
I'll just do a reflection story to, I don't know, leave, maybe
make me feel better. But here we go.
(02:07):
Episode 61 reflection. As we passed down the aging
clock of time, we hardly appreciate the splendors that
have faded from memory until scenes of bliss come back to us
like voices from the bygone thatwe loved and lost.
Scenes of happiness that come back as bright as a painting on
(02:28):
the canvas of memory. As if a button was pushed that
opened memories thought to events that made life happy in
the longo. And so it is on this day that my
mind drifts back to yesteryear's.
Here at the lake I am but half awake and no jarring, clanging
alarm has aroused me. As the great half light of late
(02:51):
early morning surrounds my tent,I listen in vain for a familiar
sound of the city, forgetting I am in the country.
My ears are not deafened by the brain racking, disjointed note
of hurrying cars and trucks up on the resounding asphalt and
concrete highways. Where am I, I wonder.
(03:14):
Instead of the noise of autos, that indescribable murmur which
penetrates my ears is the sound of the lakes wavelets kissing
the ancient cypresses along the shore.
I think of broken appointments, of lost business opportunities
and waiting people. Let them wait.
(03:34):
Is not my life mine? Slowly the shroud of since
numbing sleep is dispersed. I am camped on the shores of
this off visited lake and from the earliest of times home to
thousands of bottom land acres because of breaks, sloughs and
values during the hunting seasonfor thousands of waterfowl.
(03:57):
Soon I am excited and uplifted by the harmonious chorus of
ducks that a pouring forth melodies of such sweetness and
happiness as can come only from hearts and solidarity with the
spirit of Mother Nature. How tender and comforting are
the notes of the waterfowl's melodies that are flooding the
(04:18):
entire sky with music, or so it seems to me.
I'm reluctant to get up until I seem to hear a poet say, Get up,
get up, the beautiful morn upon her arms presents God's unchorn.
See how Mother Nature tosses arefair by quilted tents through
the air. Get up, I advise, and advance to
(04:40):
sea, the sky, the sunrise, ducksand trees.
Still I remain, half dreaming. More and more ducks have joined
a course opened by the others, till the very air seems alive,
pulsating with sweet sounds of music to my ears.
Outside, as I stand beneath the spreading branches of the great
(05:01):
cypresses, I am moved excitinglyby the richness of Mother
Nature. Oaks, poplars, Elms and sweetgum
trees that nod their welcome to gentle breezes which raft the
fragrance of fleeting leaves from the rainbow tinted forest
canopy. Indeed, Mother Nature's painting
is stunning and breathtaking, and I am in awe of it.
(05:26):
I'll destitute the rich. And how an enlightened, the
wise, A few men. Poor as the world counts riches,
but rich as God measures live their lifetimes in an attempt to
lead the masses out into the freedom of the outdoors.
But slaves we are slaves to business gods and slaves of
custom. We are tied down by ironclad
(05:48):
edicts and rules until no Bandera be true to himself.
Why should I be ashamed? Because men say I idle away time
in the outdoors and Mother Nature there is such a thing as
a worthwhile idleness, a messagewhich we of this generation need
to learn. While pottering about the far
(06:09):
pie preparing breakfast, I pauseoften to listen to the ducks
which everywhere flutter overhead in the awakening dawn.
Not even the thought of missing the opening day shooting time
can hurry me. I am resolved that nauseating
haste shall not blemish these halcyon days.
I drank my coffee and eat my breakfast restfully, stopping
(06:32):
often to listen to the featheredtribe.
The sky is resplendent with music and one must be
unflappable indeed, who would beindifferent by the sweet sound?
Out on the lake, I stand silhouetted against the golden
reddish glow of the rising sun that forebodes a beautiful day.
It is so large and full of life,while I still hopeful and
(06:56):
innocent and young. Or at least I think I am.
Battle away, a mourning in the blind with long forgotten
sensations surging exhaustively throughout my body.
Startled from my thoughts, I gazed upward to listen to the
cheerful songs of the ducks highin the sunset kissed sky.
(07:17):
The expression on my face tells everyone if they could see me,
that I am happy. Happy, happy.
My face aglow, my eyes gleaming,my head thrown back, my jaw
dropped and my lips apart. A well heeled man once said I
would give all my possessions just to see and hear for a few
(07:38):
minutes what that man sees and hears.
Many would say that Hunter is richer than any millionaire who
is poor, for he did not hear thesong of the birds in the sky
watching the spectacle taking place in the early morning
sunlight. Supposedly I'm hunting, but the
taking of a duck now and then issecondary.
(07:59):
Actually, I am dreaming a dreamyday away.
Often wonder what others were dreaming when they stopped by
this beautiful lake. Nevertheless, overhead the sun
beams out of a clear blue sky, while shadowy featured figures
borne on the whistling wings of the awakening Zephyr, so distant
as to appear very small, fly silently across the intervening
(08:23):
space. As the distance rapidly lessens,
the ducks swing in majestic circles above my decoys,
widening or narrowing as suits their fancy.
So I allow my duck call to rule the moment.
Impulse, urge, and coveting words of that types consume me
as I wait for their expectedly approach.
(08:45):
Boom boom Jesse, my yellow lab dashes forth and retrieves
Florida State 1 duck after another, delivering each to the
waiting hand. There is a bond between us, a
synergism that links me to her and her to me, all of which is
immeasurable and beautiful beyond describing.
(09:06):
It is now that I spend a few quiet moments simply watching
the ducks do what ducks do and for a few more moments I find
myself deep in reflection of thebeauty that surrounds me.
With the limit coming quickly I once again ponder over there
quite beauty 1000 times. A beautiful scene perhaps seen
(09:28):
but once in a lifetime up on this earth can never be
forgotten. I pull my boat out of the water
and ramble over the forest clad setting until I lay down
underneath an oak tree which hasbeen disfigured and deformed by
many a thunderstorm and rest upon the soft fallen leaves
until hunger bids me to arouse myself.
(09:51):
Then returning to the boat, I take the ducks I have from the
recess of the morning and negotiate the well known path
towards camp where the ducks arecooked while the day hurries on.
But I am not rushed by the lengthening shadows, all the
while enjoying my meal, until the sun passes this to the and
(10:12):
is slowly departing through the trackless skies.
Now the breath of air disturbs the peace of the evening, and
the drooping eyelids of the parting day close gently down
over the lovely scene indelibly painted upon memory's mind by
the last rays of the fading light, while the late,
sufficiently impressive and extraordinary to demand
(10:34):
accolades of wonder, and the gathering shadows of advancing
night rouse the old, who dial atlast from his reverie.
Thus Jesse and I return my boat and row out into the earthly
light of darkness, with the moonabove the horizon reminding me
that another day is close to being history.
(10:55):
The waves that form it to bow myboat divide as my boat glides
away in ever winding wavelets until lost in the darkness and
the young moon in the dark soft night, the soothing sound of a
single Mallard hen reverberates over the tranquil lake.
Once tied up, I retreat to the tent and dream of a more
(11:18):
beautiful world than the one that keeps watch over me.
The next morning I stand on the shore to look and listen.
I ponder. Perhaps the lake is not quite so
beautiful in other's eyes as it is in mine.
Perhaps the pantails are dressedjust as magnificent elsewhere,
(11:39):
and the mallards sing just as enthusiastically.
Perhaps the wild lilies grow as coplessly in other reedy lakes,
And perhaps the cattails and thetrees along the shore, the wood
ducks, until the fox squirrels and coons are just as many and
just as fine elsewhere. But even then you would not have
(12:00):
this beautiful lake. It is here where I pause while
camping, always to eat a moon pie and drink an RC Cola, and
where I go to watch the precision and poetry of ducks
disappear out of sight into the sky, and then find the ducks
again, skydiving to land in my decoys.
(12:21):
But most of all, it is where I go to get away from the asphalt
and concrete jungle of city life, to reminisce of the bygone
days. However, it is more than that.
It is a place of love, of real joy, of real security, a place
where Placid water and the soft darkness and sunlight combined
(12:42):
into sweet memories. It is a place where I can just
go and listen and understand themadness in this world well.
I can let all of my pain, stress, and hardship take a
backstage to rapture, happiness and bliss.
And I thank God every day for His creation that I've been able
to enjoy. I love Mother Nature.
(13:05):
She holds no secrets for me. She is my comforter in sadness,
my friend in happiness. She stills me with an
overpowering sense of sacredness.
At home once again, I await the calling of the Red Gods calling
me away from a whirl of distrustand money grubbing to a land of
harmony, peace and happiness where the sun never quits
(13:28):
shining and the full moon never fails to impress me.
You know, I just like I said, sometimes I at old age like I am
a old timer. I just sat around and reflect
back on the old days and and Memorial Day and the death of my
best friend Charles Steagall. I miss you Charles.
(13:49):
I sat down and wrote this littlereflection story the day
afterwards Memorial Day. I know this is not what you're
used to on my podcast, but I promise you on episode 62, we'll
get back to duck hunting and andthe history of duck hunting.
In the meantime, I hope you visit my website,
(14:09):
waterfowling.net and if you see anything on there you like this,
let me know. Try to get it for you.
The books and DVD disc of Old time hunting.
All my stuff is historical duck hunting history, nothing modern,
up to date, how you put your decoys out and all that stuff.
I just want to say to everybody out there, go to church, love
(14:33):
you God, love your family, take care of your family and
especially your children. It's a difficult time in life.
Closing with May God bless.
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