Guys,

I enjoyed reading all of the enthusiastic replies. I heard your words and theyare strong. You know, the one thing we all have in common, whether Yankee or Rebel, is the love for pursuing God's creation of the most majestic and intriguing animal in all of the wild - the whitetail deer.

I knew that I would receive all kinds of responses with detail given about that first buck harvested. For some of you it was 30 or more years ago - while for others it was maybe only a few years back. But I have always believed that the real meaning and reason for hunting is not to count antler points or measure mass, but rather to enjoy the memory that that buck or doe provides. My fondest memories in life are times in the woods with close family/friends....or even time by myself, as a guest in the Southern woods, able to take in all of the wonderful sights and sounds.

To many non-hunters, a buck on the wall merely represents an animal killed. And even to some (in my opinion) disallusioned hunters, a great buck on the wall means bragging rights. I have always thought that a quality buck on the wall, if in my house, means a life-long memory of a special time in the woods when the odds happened to be in my favor and I was able to harvest a deer, most of the time with a lot of luck on my side.

To me, that buck is a representation of that memory - who I was with, the place where I was hunting, the weather, the sights and smells of that morning in the Southern woods, and perhaps most importantly the awesomeness of the animal who blessed me with his presence.When I look up at that buck over the fireplace, I relive that moment, vividly in my mind, and all of the excitement and emotion comes flooding back. That is the beauty of a mounted buck right there, guys......the instant reminder of a special time in a special place, hopefully shared with close family/friends.

For anyone interested, I can still remember my first buck as a child like it was yestiddy. I grew up hunting in a time where if you even saw the white flag of a deer, male or female, as it loped off to avoid danger - well, you were doing pretty good. So that Sunday morning in late October, when I saw a deer walking toward my stand and uninhibitedthrough a hardwood draw, I was pretty darned excited to say the least.

As the young, 1 and a half year old buck got closer, my heart began to race and I thought surely that buck was going to hear it beating through my chest. But my enthusiasm could not be greater because I saw what meant that I could "fire when ready".....an antler! The youngster was a spike, but had one horn broken off, so I reckon I effectively ended up killing a unicorn buck....a 1 pointer!

The sound of that Marlin 30-30 rang out before I knew it, and that young deer lay just 20 yards from me in the tree stand......an old fashioned job with plywood braced 'twix two small oak trees. that was how we built them back in the day. It was all I could do to sit up there and wait for Pops to come when he heard the shot - that was the plan, "if you shoot I am close by and I will hear it, so just hang tight....and good luck!" he would say in the darkness of the Georgia woods while dropping me at my favorite stand.

That old stand was called "Frank's Stand" in honor of the old timer who built it, deep down in the holler of those Ga woods. Pops finally showed up and saw the fine, Georgia bred deer lying motionless on the ground. I felt a sense of pride and a hint of sadness that day as I had offically become a "deer slayer." Guys, I had waited and waited for years for that moment and now that it was finally there, I learned the lesson that I still value as a grown deer hunter today.........the true joy of it all is not the harvest, but the hunt that leads to that harvest, however long or short it may be.

On that day I realized a true "respect" for the elusive whitetail. And every deer I see, buck or doe, fawn or 5 year old demands it and I give it to them. I have a framed picture at home of me in the stand after Pops finally got there that morning. A skinny kid (guns in developing stage)in camo pants and a red flannel grinning from ear to ear. I never wanted to forget that special moment.

That is what it is all about to me and it amazes me how some folks just do not get it. But it is just the way I live my life.