I really don’t post many kills, but this was so special, I have to tell the tale. I have been huntin the river swamps of south Bama along the tombigbee at my grandfather’s camp my whole life and have never killed a bird there. Small acreage plus many creeks, cuts, hills, and river bottoms all contribute to personally some of the most difficult birds I have found anywhere. They defy turkey logic every way they can. You try to get aggressive and they will spot you in the swamps. You try and be conservative and they hang up for hours in the holler below which is what one did to my brother and I yesterday.

This morning was our last and after an unsuccessful attempt to pull multiple gobblers from hens, we were found to be sitting on another gobbler who went silent. While sitting there another sounded off ways away across the property line but in the direction of my cousins camp. Even though there was no way he was on his land, I convinced my brother let’s just go see his new camp and see his place just up the creek from our camp. At the gate I hit the box only to have a gobbler hammer at 8:45 in the am down towards his camp. We continued to check up on him and realized he was in the bottom to the left of the camp. We ended up literally sliding down into the drainage ditch where we were crouched down like a team of bobsledders facing a tall hillside with the creek and gobbler down to the right. I checked up on him and he had moved to behind the hill going up. A couple soft clucks and purrs and next thing you know he was drumming. I literally had no hope we were going to kill him because I’ve seen this time and time again down there. All of a sudden directly above at a 45 degree angle on the top of the hill side I spotted movement.

First, what I thought was a hen tops and starts downhill to our 11 o’clock and then there he was. Strutting magnificently atop the hill with the sun beaming on him lighting him up. He then faced and gobbled directly into our souls at 40 yards in the hardwoods. My brother, who had never shot a turkey, was supposed to be on the gun but due to positioning, he already said for me kill him if you get a shot. I then obliged and leaned forward to which allowed me to roll him down the hill. My brother immediately followed with a shot and started yelling “Doubled Baby!!” He then shot mine as it was mid flop so it wouldn’t get back up and proceeded to literally spike his shotgun (out of shells at this time so we are good on safety) like Gronk with a football lol I had just gotten to my bird when I am form tackled for the first time since my football years by my brother he was so excited! Not only was this my brother’s first bird, but also it was my first double and the first birds we have killed around my Big Papaw’s camp!

This hunt was the most special hunt I’ve ever been on as it seemed like my late grandfather Big Papaw had pulled them birds over the hill. To be honest, I did tear up a little just thinking about what he would say up there in heaven watching a couple of his grandsons enjoy the woods he grew up in so much. It’s been 10 years since he passed, and his picture is with me on every hunt in my turkey vest just so he can experience the thrill with me every time! God Bless!