Proud great-grandma with her six year old great-grandson and his first spring turkey. Juanita and Alex Stephens, Missouri spring turkey season 2003.
I grew up thinking that everyone took their fish, turkeys, deer, quail, rabbits and any other critter harvested from Nature’s bounty to grandma’s house and it magically showed up in the freezer or on your dinner plate. Grandma Stephens’ basement was the drop off spot for my uncles, cousins, dad, and me. We killed it and she did the rest…I just thought it was normal. Likewise, on the other side of the county at the O'Day Farm, Grandma O’Day was up at 5:30 am every morning, hunting season or not, cooking breakfast. Growing up I just thought it was normal. As a matter of fact, you had better eat when Grandma O’Day asked what you wanted or she was downright agitated. I quickly learned that you would sooner be late to the woods than tell her ‘no thanks’ - I didn’t dream this was out of the ordinary. However, after getting married, my wife informed me that this was definitely not normal. As a matter of fact, for the longest time, she didn’t even believe this really happened. I was dumbfounded. I took her to Grandma Stephens’ house and told Grandma to set her straight.
Looking back now I am amazed at the juggling act my grandmothers performed during hunting season, which, by the way, was also the Holiday Season. You see, back in the Seventies and early Eighties deer season occurred during the week of Thanksgiving. It was quail, rabbits, and fall turkeys before Thanksgiving, deer during the week of Thanksgiving, and quail, rabbits, and coons the rest of the year. Thanksgiving Day was a mad rush for the hunters – get up early, hunt until noon, rush to the house for Thanksgiving dinner, and then back to the woods to close out the day hunting. Whew, what a busy day. And then there was Christmas. For me at the farm, Christmas entailed early morning gift opening followed by rabbit and quail hunting before dinner, and then rabbit and quail hunting after dinner. Of course the grandmas, moms, and aunts spent the day at the house cooking, cleaning, and visiting. And man, were they proud of all the guys when we brought in wild game for them to process on top of all their other chores! Not to mention the mud on the boots, the hunting coats and hats flung all around, and the guns in every corner. How did they keep from hanging us up in the basement?
Today, the seasons have changed a little. Now its archery deer, fall turkeys, out-of-state elk and pheasant, and firearms deer hunting before Thanksgiving, trapping from mid-November through the end of March and muzzleloader deer hunting during the week of Christmas (this was not a popular MDC season change with some at my house). All of this does not even take into consideration gigging season or the squirrels and rabbits from first frost through mid February. To this day the mud, coats, and guns are still a challenge for me. And, since my wife has not yet subscribed to grandma’s old ways of processing all the harvested game, the butcher boards on the counter and uncut wild meat in bowls in the refrigerator is another occasional issue. Oh, and rolled up frozen fur takes up too much freezer space – that’s another issue. And, if I don’t have time to skin, the occasional whole frozen raccoon or otter in the chest freezer can be still yet another source of contention. Do you think there is anywhere else in the world where the women have to deal with the issues like they do here in the Ozark Hills? Men, we are married to saints!!
1996 Deer Season. 78 year old Grandma O'Day, a true Ozarks Pioneer woman, and another buck from the family farm.
As I mentioned earlier, I asked Grandma Juanita Stephens to set my wife LaDonna straight on how a good Stephens woman operated during hunting season. Grandma, at 87 years old, looked over the top of her glasses with a half ornery smile and said, “Girl, I married Jewel Stephens when I was sixteen and he was twenty-six. I thought I had to do everything he told me to do. And yes, I did clean a lot of critters. But don’t you dare do it! You make the boys clean whatever they kill.”
"Oh no!" I thought to myself. I had just recently managed to convince LaDonna to help me cut up some of the meat after I had processed a carcass and now grandma had set me back at least three years in my grooming efforts! I’ll have to start the 'good Stephens wife grooming and training process' all over again! Oh well, at least Grandma confirmed for my wife that the story was true.
The women of the Ozark Hills are truly unique and a huge part of our outdoor experience. They are as much a part of our interaction with Mother Nature as any other fundamental ingredient in the experience. Today, their role within Mother Nature’s economy has morphed into a much more active role and women are doing a lot of the hunting themselves. Whatever the capacity of their interaction, to the women folk of the Ozark Hills, I solute and thank each of you for making our way of life possible. To Grandma Stephens, Grandma O’Day, and my wife, LaDonna, a special thank you for allowing me and my children to experience the same outdoor heritage that our forefathers lived during Holiday, hunting, and trapping seasons past. So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly. Good luck, be safe, and get a big one.
Greg Stephens is a 35-year veteran & life-time student of the great outdoors. His column appears weekly in print & online publications. You can email him at gregstephens@one-eyedhillbilly.com. For more columns go to www.one-eyedhillbilly.blogspot.com.
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