When I looked at the clock, it was 2:15 a.m.
It was my first turkey hunt.
This week, I shot quail in Clinton, South Carolina at the Clinton House Game Preserve.
Uncle Evander carefully placed eighteen Zesta Saltine crackers on the green Formica of his kitchen counter.
Some think that life during your youth is better than it is once you gain maturity. I am not one of them.
For most of my life, I’ve lived by a simple rule.
This week, I heard a teaser on a local news channel asking the question, “Is there life after 50?”
This is the time of year I used to dread.
Life without a dog is less interesting.
Firearms ownership in the United States is more than a tradition. It is a Supreme Court affirmed right.
A while back, I made a new friend named Bill. Bill came to my Concealed Carry Certification class.
I wasn’t sure of the intersection.
My Uncle Evander had a lot of friends.
Far be it from me to second guess God’s judgment but I would have made the world a little differently.
We drove down the beach and I couldn’t wait to see what the point of Cape Lookout was like.