Jeff
Kartchner. The name has to be some translation from some ancient
language meaning, Man of Nature. Anytime I ponder the name, it
ultimately takes
me back to the outdoors. There are very few striking memories that
stand out to me when I try to think of those created indoors with my
grandfather, Papa. All memories land me ten toes down in the grass,
nostrils full of fresh air, and eyes overloaded with
the beauties of Nature. Whether it be scooping me up to head to Sport's
Authority to grab ourselves some nice new fishing poles (as we always
misplaced the ones we had bought previously), grabbing me to hop in that
clunker of a truck to head out to the middle
of nowhere to work on foreclosed homes, or taking a trip to Walmart to
grab some ammo to load up the guns with, my Grandfather and I always
found time to connect with each other in the hands of Nature. The best,
and might I add ONLY fish I've ever actually
been able to reel in have been when my grandpa was at my side. He had
the magic cast, or the magic formation of bait on the hook. Most of the
fishing trips were when I was young and squeamish, so he always helped a
brother out when it came to unhooking the
slimy fish from the hooks, and sparing me of the small negatives found
in that activity. He did this for all activities. He striped all of the
crummy parts away, and left only the pure enjoyment in it. I experienced
some of my most savory and exquisite memories
with this man.
One of the
funniest and most impressive memories I have of my grandpa occurred
during one of our shooting sessions. We took a trip deep out into the
endless deserts of Arizona to fire off a few firearms
that he owned. One off the rifles that he brought was very large, and
had immense amounts of blowback. At the time, having not had much
shooting experience or strength, it took a lot of internal pep talks to
get myself to grab that rifle, fit it in my armpit/shoulder
socket, and give the trigger a pull. I was legitimately worried about
it leaving me armless, or the gun flying backwards equally as far as the
bullet flew forwards. So, as I'm sitting there trying to conjure up
some courage, or even an elaborate excuse to
get out of firing this thing, abruptly the gun is swiped from my grip,
and fired off. I was startled... until I turned around to see my grandpa
with the gun in his hands, smoke fuming out the barrel, and a dead
rabbit laying motionless about 10 yards from
us. I honestly believe that that rabbit had less of an idea of what hit
it than I did. Where did the gun I was just holding go? Wait, where did
my grandpa just go? I found him over at the sight of the dead rabbit,
which from there turned into more of an examination
sight and platform for a biology lesson. After gutting that thing, and
showing me each and every organ stored into of it's body, I was very
educated in rabbit biology. You learn something new everyday?
What I have
grown to learn each and everyday though is that I love and cherish every
moment I spent with my grandfather, and I love him unconditionally. He
has been an unbelievable mentor, teacher, comforter,
role model, and example in my life. I'm forever indebted to him for all
that he has done for me, and some debts are never able to be paid off
because it's impossible pay back all you were given in the first place. I
love you, Papa.
Chase Gilmore
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