The 2020 spring turkey hunting season opens in Tennessee beginning Saturday, April 4.  EDITOR

See, it was the opening day of turkey season in Alabama. I’m in a hunting camp with Eddie Salter.

Then the tornadoes came through and kinda ruined hunting for that day.

The next morning, we are on the edge of a swamp, sitting back-to-back by a big tree. Turkey gobbles.

I point one way, Eddie points the other. I am shooting my old Winchester model 97, pump gun with hammer-deadly.

Turkey sticks his head up, periscoping. I drop him in is tracks.

The next morning, I am hunting with Eddie’s brother, Duwan. Beautiful morning and first thing, we have one gobbling.

He comes in on the run and I blast him. Then, another one gobbles. I hand Duwan the gun and he pulls the hammer back…but forgets to load another shell. Laughed myself crazy.

Warm early spring morning, sitting in the woods with Bo Pitman.

First thing to come in was beautiful, black coyote. I should have shot. A few minutes later, we see this long beard coming across a field.

Bo was about to say, “Wait till he gets closer.” Then I shot him…not Bo, the gobbler.

We're at Tony Knight’s farm doing a video. I shooting a pre-production muzzleloading shot gun.

About 10:30, the cameraman is dozing and a big, like 33-pound, long beard comes sneaking in.

At 42 yards I drop him. When I run up, he sticks a spur in my leg. Not an inch of it on tape.

Sitting on the edge of Old Hickory Lake, me and David Durham. Bird gobbling his head off.

I hear him fly down. I could hear back then. I start yelping and at 40 yards, I drop him.

On the northern edge of Missouri, sitting in a tree stand. Doing a video and my cameraman, Gary Holmes, is sitting behind me, half-asleep.

Big gobbler comes strutting by at 20 yards. I come to full draw and nail him. Holmes missed it all. We laughed about it all night.

I’m crappie fishing, shotgun in the boat. Gobbler sounds off. I get out and set up, I don’t know why.

I yelp three times and shut up -- the Bo Pitman method. Ten minutes later he walks right by me. I drop him.

Three years ago my friend Rick Scott, who lived just outside Watertown, invited me to come hunt his property.

I know nothing about the property. I get out of the truck, walk across a dry creek bed and sit down beside a big tree.

Daylight comes and a hen flies down. I sit there, quietly. Then comes a valance of gobblers. I shoot one and that is the end of my turkey hunting.

I don’t like eating turkey and don’t really enjoy killing them.

I’ve killed more than several. I enjoy the camaraderie of a turkey camp but hunting them holds no allure for me.

So, I reckon I am done.

But for all of ya’ll who still love it good luck.

I find that I am not so mad at animals anymore.

I am not in good health and I may be done hunting.

But you can sit on my patio and kill a turkey.

Of course, I will have to charge you an outrageous guide fee.

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