Here is a story from Eric Wilder's new book Just East of Eden, available later this month.
BIG JIM'S HUNTING TRIP
While I have written volumes about my east Texas grandparents, I have neglected telling many stories about my equally colorful gp’s from north Louisiana. Jim and Lela migrated from Mississippi during the early 20s. Big Jim was, as his name implies, was a large, intimidating man, Lela, his antithesis, small-boned, rather frail and always had a smile on her face. Together, they had six children, all different, yet all the same.
Grady was the second son. After the tragic and untimely death of Iris, his older brother, he embraced the role of eldest living child and only male heir of Lela and Big Jim. Like his father, Grady was an avid hunter, mostly of squirrels and dove.
Vivian is only a few miles from the Texas state line. Grady and Big Jim had Louisiana hunting licenses, but not Texas hunting licenses. Still, they would often park Grady’s old Ford on a dirt road near Jeems Bayou in Louisiana and then work their way into Texas. On one such trip, both Grady and Big Jim had each bagged more than their limit of quail, even if they had been legal. They weren’t.
Big Jim stayed with the shotguns and over-limit quail, and sent Grady down the road to retrieve their car. When Grady drove past in his Ford (Grady and Big Jim always drove Fords), he saw the game warden with his dad. Like any son with good sense, he just kept driving.
The game warden arrested Big Jim, confiscated his guns and illegal game, and drove him to Jefferson, Texas. Big Jim always had cash on hand. He paid a fine of $100 and then hitch-hiked back to Vivian. When he got there he was not a happy camper.
It didn’t matter much. Grady had already told the story to everybody in the family. When Big Jim blustered, everyone began to laugh at him. Finally, with a disgruntled shake of his head, he shut his bedroom door and retired for the night.
The story is legend in the family, retold countless times at reunions and among family members. Except for Big Jim. No one ever mentioned the event in his presence. He wasn’t an ogre and probably would have taken it okay, but no one ever took the chance.
Grady was the second son. After the tragic and untimely death of Iris, his older brother, he embraced the role of eldest living child and only male heir of Lela and Big Jim. Like his father, Grady was an avid hunter, mostly of squirrels and dove.
Vivian is only a few miles from the Texas state line. Grady and Big Jim had Louisiana hunting licenses, but not Texas hunting licenses. Still, they would often park Grady’s old Ford on a dirt road near Jeems Bayou in Louisiana and then work their way into Texas. On one such trip, both Grady and Big Jim had each bagged more than their limit of quail, even if they had been legal. They weren’t.
Big Jim stayed with the shotguns and over-limit quail, and sent Grady down the road to retrieve their car. When Grady drove past in his Ford (Grady and Big Jim always drove Fords), he saw the game warden with his dad. Like any son with good sense, he just kept driving.
The game warden arrested Big Jim, confiscated his guns and illegal game, and drove him to Jefferson, Texas. Big Jim always had cash on hand. He paid a fine of $100 and then hitch-hiked back to Vivian. When he got there he was not a happy camper.
It didn’t matter much. Grady had already told the story to everybody in the family. When Big Jim blustered, everyone began to laugh at him. Finally, with a disgruntled shake of his head, he shut his bedroom door and retired for the night.
The story is legend in the family, retold countless times at reunions and among family members. Except for Big Jim. No one ever mentioned the event in his presence. He wasn’t an ogre and probably would have taken it okay, but no one ever took the chance.
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