My grandmother was full blood Cherokee, raised on the reservation. From a very young age, I knew I had to hunt. It was something deep inside my soul, and still is. I would go with her every summer to visit our relatives down in NC. From my great uncles, and others, I learned some early skills. I never had a father that hunted. But the old farmer I worked for since age 12, at the end of our road did! He and his buddies took me under their wing, and got me started deer hunting. I'd already began small game hunting on my own. They were very successful hunters, and killed deer every year, back when deer numbers were nothing like today! I carry with me the traditions and memories from those younger days, each time I hunt. It's what made me who I am today. Now that I've put a half century of deer seasons behind me. I'm most proud of not the deer I've killed myself. But the many young hunters I've mentored, as I passed the torch that was given to me. So that one day they will pass it along as well. The fire from that torch, still burns hot within me. That completes the circle.