Post by Hardcase on Nov 17, 2007 6:36:58 GMT -5
A story from Arkansas, the guy's with a sheriff's dept.
I didn't know the old man. I had never met him or even heard his name before when they told me who he was, but I will never forget him.
The old man's obituary will read that he was in his 80's and that he is survived by a wife, children and grandchildren. It will probably mention that he was a veteran and retired from whatever job he labored at for the majority of his life.
They may even remark that the old man was an outdoorsman but they'll never be able to convey they way the old man went to Heaven. I know. I know, because I was fortunate enough to be able to see what the old man saw. I answered the call this morning and met one of the camp members who would lead me to the place where the old man was.
We got there and walked the short distance to where the old man had been hunting. I saw the clear blue sky and the sun shining through the trees in the little oak flat where his ground blind was. A short distance away was a lean-up stand that the members of his camp convinced him to abandon in his failing health.
One of the members built the ground blind that faced this little flat where now a cool breeze blew pin oak leaves from thier limbs. There was a small buck scrape in front of the blind and a few small red oaks showed signs of where a buck deer had recently rubbed his horns.
Beside the blind was a Browning BAR leaning against a water oak. The rifle was old but kept in immaculate condition. The blueing was worn and there were a few scratches here and there and one could see that this rifle belonged to a hunter. Maybe the old man carried a different rifle many years ago when he served our country, I don't know. You can bet though that if he did carry one, it was kept a clean as this one.
About fifteen steps in front of the blind lay a buck deer that was dropped in his tracks by this old man, useing this old rifle. Laying beside the deer was this old man.
The deer had been field dressed and located in the old man's pocket was an old man's pocket knife, stained with the blood from his latest and last kill. The blade was sharp as a razor and thin from many trips up and down a wet stone. I imagined the old man sitting at the camp fire at night telling stories or listening to them while he drank coffee and sharpened his knife.
This old man saw Heaven twice today. The first time around 9:15 AM this morning in this little oak flat where his body now rested. That was the time recorded by the old man on the tag that hung from the bucks antlers. The second time he saw Heaven was a short time afterward when he walked that wooded trail home, to be with God.
What a beautiful day and a beautiful way, to go to Heaven.
I didn't know the old man. I had never met him or even heard his name before when they told me who he was, but I will never forget him.
The old man's obituary will read that he was in his 80's and that he is survived by a wife, children and grandchildren. It will probably mention that he was a veteran and retired from whatever job he labored at for the majority of his life.
They may even remark that the old man was an outdoorsman but they'll never be able to convey they way the old man went to Heaven. I know. I know, because I was fortunate enough to be able to see what the old man saw. I answered the call this morning and met one of the camp members who would lead me to the place where the old man was.
We got there and walked the short distance to where the old man had been hunting. I saw the clear blue sky and the sun shining through the trees in the little oak flat where his ground blind was. A short distance away was a lean-up stand that the members of his camp convinced him to abandon in his failing health.
One of the members built the ground blind that faced this little flat where now a cool breeze blew pin oak leaves from thier limbs. There was a small buck scrape in front of the blind and a few small red oaks showed signs of where a buck deer had recently rubbed his horns.
Beside the blind was a Browning BAR leaning against a water oak. The rifle was old but kept in immaculate condition. The blueing was worn and there were a few scratches here and there and one could see that this rifle belonged to a hunter. Maybe the old man carried a different rifle many years ago when he served our country, I don't know. You can bet though that if he did carry one, it was kept a clean as this one.
About fifteen steps in front of the blind lay a buck deer that was dropped in his tracks by this old man, useing this old rifle. Laying beside the deer was this old man.
The deer had been field dressed and located in the old man's pocket was an old man's pocket knife, stained with the blood from his latest and last kill. The blade was sharp as a razor and thin from many trips up and down a wet stone. I imagined the old man sitting at the camp fire at night telling stories or listening to them while he drank coffee and sharpened his knife.
This old man saw Heaven twice today. The first time around 9:15 AM this morning in this little oak flat where his body now rested. That was the time recorded by the old man on the tag that hung from the bucks antlers. The second time he saw Heaven was a short time afterward when he walked that wooded trail home, to be with God.
What a beautiful day and a beautiful way, to go to Heaven.
