posted on Jun, 22 2012 @ 03:57 PM
I was just reading on ATS in the gray area about Alonzo Typer and his near drowning incident and it got me thinking about the past and things that
happened to me when I was younger. So, I would like to hear about stories that have happened to our members in their younger days. These stories can
be funny, incidental or whatever.
Here is mine to start.
I was about 14-15 and it was early winter probably around November and we were going duck hunting on the Susquehanna River near Saginaw, Pennsylvania.
My grandfather, Spencer Bupp, lived in Saginaw and he actually owned some islands out in the river which are still in the family today
Early one morning my brother Wesley and I loaded up and went out on the river where we met with Bruce Mervine, my moms’ boss, who we introduced to
duck hunting. We were cautious of Bruce since he was born and bred in Philadelphia and not accustomed to any type of hunting. Bruce is the nicest guy
but he was a city slicker when it came to hunting. While we would row or pole our boat in the low water Bruce would be motoring around in his
aluminum boat hitting rocks and busting prop shear pins. He carried a 25 pound propane tank with a heater dish on it to the duck blind every day. We
were low tech and Bruce was high tech.
This particular morning it was very cold, clear and in the single digits. I was glad we had Bruce’s heater. My brother didn’t like Bruce’s
heater because he said the ducks can see the red burning heater while circling to land in the decoys but it was cold enough that Wes said it was ok to
use it. I wore a light mesh camo jacket over my brown hunting coat that fateful day. We were watching for ducks or geese when off in the distant a
flock of ducks could be seen. Wes quickly called and the flight turned toward us starting a long circle. We all watched intensely for several minutes
concentrating on them as they came closer my blood was pumping with excitement when I started smell this burning. Then in a puff my mesh jacket was up
in flames. I swear it no more than five seconds for it to complete burn up as I jumped around desperately patting and beating the smoldering cloth. By
the time they turned around to look at my commotion it was all over and 12 gauge shotgun shells which were in the pockets are falling on the blind
floor. The only thing left was the zipper and a few smoldering seams. Wes started giving me hell since I had scared the ducks away and I was
embarrassed by it all. I still remember seeing the red smoldering edge of the jacket just burning away with little smoke as I desperately tried to pat
it out in my mind today and I have to chuckle.
edit on 22-6-2012 by fnpmitchreturns because: (no reason given)