A Call to Action

Back in June I wrote about the proposed legislation to turn deer "farming" over to the N.C Department of Agriculture.  There was considerable opposition to that bill, but an amended version was later inserted as part of the 2014 Appropriations Act.  That legislation allowed the NCWRC to retain control of both wild and captive cervids (deer, elk, etc.), but spelled out that the NCWRC must pass regulations that reflect the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s guidelines for the importation of cervids from other states.

On November 18, 2014 the House Select Committee on Regulatory Authority and Operations of the NC Wildlife Resources Commission met in Raleigh to hear concerns from deer farmers.  (Note: There are 37 licensed captive cervid facilities in North Carolina.  Some are zoos or zoo-type facilities that aren’t farming cervids in the truest sense.  The majority of the rest are hobbyists).  While elected officials heard a variety of complaints from these “farmers,” in spite of some legislator’s requests to hear from NCWRC officials, committee chair Rep. Roger West would not allow wildlife officials to speak.

Now, round two of these committee meetings is scheduled for Monday, December 8, 2014 at 10:00 a.m. at the Stecoah Valley Cultural Arts Center in Graham County.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with North Carolina geography, the community of Stecoah was the epicenter of a multi-year covert wildlife investigation into the illegal harvest of bears.  Since the arrests from that investigation in 2013, those charged (or their mamas or wives), have cried in unison a chorus of "It ain't fair."  Yet, after review by the state’s district attorney and the U.S. Attorney, actions were deemed fair and did not violate the law.  So, in light of the hammering given the NCWRC at the November meeting in Raleigh, and the location of this next scheduled meeting, one doesn’t have to speculate much that the cries of, “It ain’t fair” will once again echo across Stecoah Valley.

Linda Crisp - mother of convicted defendant Chad Crisp and wife of convicted defendant David Crisp
from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJiRSX9r9eM

The NCWRC and its Division of Law Enforcement are professionals.  While it may be uncomfortable to hear their actions questioned, I am confident that they are open to questions and will offer explanations for any actions taken by the agency.  But, they have to be allowed to respond.

Wayne LaPierre
from
www.nraontherecord.org

Rev. Al Sharpton
from
www.sodahead.com

The tactic of challenging governmental agencies actions without listening to, or allowing a response, is currently in vogue.  Those on the extreme right would rather scream, “storm troopers,” jack-booted thugs,” “Ruby Ridge,” or any other right-wing rhetoric than to hear an opposing viewpoint.  Those on the left cry out just as loud, but they blame the system rather than pointing to an individual’s responsibility for their actions.  Maybe the Rev. Al Sharpton and NRA VP Wayne LaPierre will show up in Stecoah.  Now would be a meeting worth attending!

So, what can we do?  I encourage you to contact the members of this legislative committee and respectfully ask them to allow an even presentation of facts, and for them to question the validity and source of those facts.  Informed decisions cannot be made without all available knowledge.  The contact information below was obtained from N.C. General Assembly website.  The committee members are:

Chair   Rep. Tom Murry

            Tom.Murry@ncleg.net

            P. O. Box 1054

Morrisville, NC 27560

919-865-9993

Chair   Rep. Roger West

            Roger.West@ncleg.net

            P. O. Box 160

Marble, NC 28905

828-837-5246

            Rep. Leo Daughtry

            Leo.Daughtry@ncleg.net

5 Lakeview Place

Smithfield, NC 27577

919-934-7265

Rep. Jimmy Dixon

Jimmy.Dixon@ncleg.net

P. O. Box 222

Warsaw, NC 28398

910-590-1740

Rep. Mike Hager

Mike.Hager@ncleg.net

300 N. Salisbury St., Room 304

Raleigh, NC 27603

919-733-5749

Rep. Susan Martin

Susan.Martin@ncleg.net

1407 Kenan St., NW

Wilson, NC 27893

252-285-2060

Rep. Annie Mobley

Annie.Mobley@ncleg.net

353 South Church Rd.

Ahoskie, NC 27910

252-332-5463

Rep. Garland Pierce

Garland.Pierce@ncleg.net

21981 Buie St.

Wagram, NC 28396

910-369-2844

Rep. Mitchell Setzer

Mitchell.Setzer@ncleg.net

P. O. Box 416

Catawba, NC 28609

828-241-3570

Rep. Ken Waddell

Ken.Waddell@ncleg.net

515 E. 1st Ave.

Chadbourn, NC 28431

910-654-3734

Two Weeks to Live

Last weekend I dreamed I was dying.  In the dream, I had gone to the doctor who laid out the prognosis in no nonsense fashion – I would be dead in two weeks, but would remain “healthy” until the last moment.  Or, I could go through a treatment plan that would give me an extra month, but I would be sick most of the time.  That was the first choice – an easy one.  I chose the two weeks healthy and went home wondering what to do next.  I don't recall feeling sad or scared in the dream.  But, I knew there were things I needed to complete before moving on.

The dream was very vivid and woke me with a start at 4:00 a.m.  I flopped around in the bed for over an hour, wrestling with the question of what I would do if I really only had two weeks left.  Two weeks are 14 days and 14 days are only 336 hours.  I stared at the ceiling and wondered how would I spend those fleeting hours?

I thought about my grandkids.  Peter, age 4, would probably have a few vague memories of me.  Addie at 2 wouldn’t remember me at all.  Jackson, he’s just a few weeks old and I would be nothing but a hazy image in an old photo.

Peter

So, I figured the first thing is to shore up those memories with Peter.  Since it was just a dream, I chose to set it in the summer months.  I would take Peter to Ocracoke.  We would sit on the ferry dock and catch Pinfish until the ferry arrived, then we would wave to the folks on the ferry.  I would called him "Cephas" my special name for him.  Then we would feed the gulls.  Elizabeth would snap many photos.

Addie

I would take Addie to Pullan Park in Raleigh.  We would ride the carousal all afternoon, switching from horse to tiger to horse with each new ride.  Maybe the carousal tune would lodge somewhere in the recesses of her malleable mind so that whenever she heard it in the future, a faint memory of war horses and ostriches and an old bald guy would come to mind.  Deja vu. 

Jackson

Jackson would have nothing to remember.  So, we would go to the Linville Gorge, on the Table Rock side, and I would tell him about hiking into the gorge with my friend Toad.  John would video the conversation so Jackson could watch it when he was older.  Like Peter, I want Jackson to say and remember, “Papa had a friend named Toad.”

As I lay there in bed, I went through a list of family and friends that I would like to visit one last time before kicking over.  It would make for a busy two weeks.  I doubt I would waste much of it asleep.

The thing that struck me most was that not only did I want to visit all these people, I also wanted them to know how I felt about them.  Later that day I spent four or five hours traveling alone which gave me some time to assess what all of that meant and means.

I determined that how we would spend those last two weeks says much about what is important to us.  We could easily be self-absorbed and spend the time doing the things we always wanted to do.  Heck, we could put it on a credit card and let someone else worry about it when we’re gone.  I have taken the love languages assessment and my languages are “quality time” and "words of affirmation.”  So, it makes sense that I want to spend time with people I care about and to let them know their value to me.

Our fragile, impending mortality has been the fodder of songs.  Tim McGraw’s Live Like You Were Dying reflects on what “I would do if I could do it all again.”   Nickelback narrowed it down to If Today Was Your Last Day.  It would be hard to squeeze it all in in just one day.  I’m glad I got two weeks.

I woke Amy after wallowing around for over an hour.  She was a pretty good sport to listen to me wonder about my last two weeks.  Her advice at 5:30 a.m. made perfect sense: we should never put off spending time with people we love and should never leave without them knowing what they mean to us.

What would you do if you only had two weeks left to live?

Warden Tales: Master Officer Foster Harrell and Jet

During the course of my career, I have observed wildlife officers utilize many different modes of unconventional transportation to get into the areas where they need to be.  In my early days, an officer had a Honda Trail 70 that he would throw in the trunk of his car to use on gated Forest Service roads.  A few officers have given mountain bikes a spin.  ATVs have been issued for years and get a good work out.  Canoes and kayaks help in shallow water or when stealth is necessary.  Forest Harrell rode a horse.

Foster D. Harrell
from Wildlife in North Carolina - 1967

Foster D. Harrell was employed by the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission on September 1, 1961.  In February 1962, he was drafted into the U.S. Army and spent two years in the military.  He returned to work with the NCWRC in 1964 and was assigned to Swain County.  Harrell ended up in Henderson County where he was responsible for miles of trout streams, many of which required a good deal of foot-patrol.

“I remember when Foster got his horse from Trout Unlimited.  Jim Geouge, Sgt. Lloyd Higgins and I were checking fishing on the Davidson River near the hatchery [currently a part of the Pisgah Education Center].  We ran into a Pisgah TU member and he informed Lloyd that they [TU] had just bought Foster a horse to use when patrolling Turkey Pen and the South Mills River.  Sgt. Higgins wasn’t too pleased about that and took off down Hwy. 276.  He was tapping the steering wheel and saying, ‘We’ll damn see about that.’  Lloyd dropped me and Jim off before heading to Foster’s house at Mill’s River.  He was too late – Foster had already brought Jet home.”

Retired Master Officer Rick Stone

Foster Harrell ID card
Courtesy of NCWRC Lt. Ben Meyer

Members of the Land-of-Sky Chapter of Trout Unlimited in Asheville set out to help Harrell get into the backcountry areas.  Unlike the “put and take” streams where trout are stocked, those wilderness streams contain a sustainable population of wild trout.  Those remote locations contribute to the temptation for unscrupulous anglers to catch more than their share of fish.  The chapter raised funds over a two year period to purchase Harrell a horse to help him get into those wild areas.

Fosetr Harrell and Jet
photo by Jay Davies
from Wildlife in North Carolina - September 1984

Harrell described checking an angler in the September 1984 issue of Wildlife in North Carolina:

“The angler was totally engaged in trying to catch a trout,” said Harrell with just a hint of a smile.  “We were about 30 feet from that angler when my horse snorted and that fisherman nearly jumped out of his skin.  He probably thought he was about to be eaten by a bear.”

Master Officer Foster Harrell 

Master Officer Stone would sometimes accompany Harrell on Stone's personal horse.

I remember once we were riding horses in Turkey Pen, checking the South Mills River.  It was cold and the river was iced up around the banks.  My horse, Rocky, didn’t want to cross the river because the ice made a cracking sound when we tried to get in the water (Foster’s horse, Jet, never had a problem with the water).  We had to go about a mile and a half out of the way.  But, Foster didn’t complain.  I don’t remember writing any citations that day, but we let several folks know we were back there!”

Retired Master Officer Rick Stone

Foster Harrell retired in 1990 and moved back home to District 4.  He still shows up for firearms training and stays in touch with the local officers.

Innovation is a key trait for wildlife officers.  Many a plan has been hatched in a patrol vehicle late at night.  Those plans usually begin with, “You know what I bet would work…”  Some of those plans work great and others are the fodder for supervisors’ nightmares.  One back in the 1980s led to Foster Harrell patrolling on horseback.

A Family Tradition: Walter and Mike Edmisten

Back in the late 1980s when I was stationed in Graham County, the U.S. Forest Service got a report of a marijuana patch on a narrow ridge above Panther Creek.  It was near the end of the growing season, so they thought they stood a pretty good chance of catching the growers.  This was the front end of the declaration of war on drugs.

I spent some time in the woods with the Forest Service officers on that patch and even more time around their camp at night.  I knew Special Agent Baker Edmisten, mostly by name only.  We were sitting around the fire one night and Baker had on one of the old, green wildlife officer shirts.  I asked him about it and he said he got it from his dad.  That was a time in my career when I was more fixated on catching someone than hearing a good story with a strong dose of history.  Instead of asking about Baker’s dad, the conversation shifted to the details of the next day.

Walter Edmisten's badge
Courtesy of Mike Edmisten

Several years later, during one of my first assignments instructing in the wildlife recruit school, I heard that Baker’s nephew was in the class.  Again, I didn’t really consider asking the recruit, Mike Edmisten, any questions about his uncle or grandfather.  In fact, I had forgotten the grandfather connection.

Walter F. Edmisten was appointed Watauga County wildlife protector with the North Carolina Department of Conservation and Development’s Division of Fish and Game on June 8, 1944.  He was promoted to district supervisor in late 1949 and was a part of the second group of officers to attend the initial in-service training conducted by the newly formed N.C. Wildlife Resources Commission, graduating on April 7, 1950.

Walter Edmisten
Second row, second from the right
Chapel Hill, NC
from Wildlife in North Carolina

Courtesy of Mike Edmisten

"My grandfather retired in 1972. I was born in 1973. I never got the pleasure to see him in uniform, or talk to him after a day at work. He did share accounts of what is was like being a "Wildlife Protector" back in the day. For example: I remember him talking about a man who he caught closed season trout fishing in Ashe County. If I remember right he had to obtain an arrest warrant. When he went to get the subject, the individual threated to shoot him if he didn't leave. My "Papaw" as he was known by everybody, drew his .38 Colt revolver and told him that it wasn't worth dying over a trout. The subject was then arrested and taken before a magistrate!

Protector Salaries effective September 1, 1946
Courtesy Mike Edmisten

I remember many days as a child when he would take me to either Meat Camp Creek or the New River to trout fish. He would drop me off and tell me where he would pick me up, and how long it should take me to get to my pick up location. It seems like he was always spot on in his estimation of my arrival time! Forgot to mention that I had to catch my own night crawlers in his back yard the night before!

From Wildlife in North Carolina - 1955

Other memories include him taking me either to the tree farm to stalk rabbits or taking me to the back ridge along the New River to squirrel hunt.

My grandfather helped capture the original Mildred the Bear which was taken to Grandfather Mountain. He would take me up there every summer as a young child when I came to Boone to visit my family.

from Wildlife in North Carolina - 1970

I was about 14 or 15 years old when I first started talking to Papaw about becoming a Wildlife Officer. He was excited to know that I was interested in choosing that career path. I started college at Wayne Community College in 1994 getting my degree in fish and wildlife management. I was in class taking my final exams in 1995, when I received a call that my grandfather had passed. I had just applied to wildlife school a few weeks prior to that. After the application process, I received my letter from Raleigh telling me to be at the Institute of Government on Jan 6th 1996 to start the basic school! My only regret is that I wish Papaw could have known that I made it.”

Master Officer Mike Edmisten

                             

Courtesy of Mike Edmisten

from Wildlife in NC
September 2001

from Wildlife in NC
September 2001

Mike Edmisten is assigned to Durham County.  Geographically and demographically, Durham is almost 180 degrees different from his “Papaw’s” high country duty station.  Mike’s uncle, Baker, went on to work a long career as a special agent with the U.S. Forest Service and later as a U.S. Marshal.  Another uncle, Rufus, served as the N.C. Secretary of State and made a strong, but unsuccessful run for governor in 1984.  It seems that the name Edmisten is synonymous with service.

I think we have a plan

nationalgeographic.com

Yesterday was my fifth squirrelless squirrel hunt this season.  I could blame it on an abundance of acorns that reduce their movement.  I could probably even dump it off on an immature squirrel dog that is fascinated with all the different scents in the woods.  Heck, part of it may be the extra 15 pounds I’ve laid on that makes those high ridges less appealing.  But, there is more to it than that.

I haven’t even seen a squirrel.  I mean not crossing the road, not scurrying through the woods – nothing.  It is like they have vanished – raptured.  So, like any hunter, I began to ponder who I can blame.  

The problem could be poachers.  My friend, Randy Doman in Missouri, shared this Facebook photo of an incident in Missouri where four guys killed 100 squirrels in one outing.  The only trouble with that theory is I haven’t seen one squirrel much less 100.

Missouri Department of Conservation

I could lay it off on the wildlife commission.  Seriously, what have they done for us squirrel hunters.  When was the last time we had a squirrel management plan?  How about a squirrel biologist?  While I caught my breath for the umpteenth time yesterday, I began to formulate a plan to get the commission’s attention.  We need a squirrel hunters association.  And I figured the bear hunters have already come up with a pretty good plan so it seems reasonable to copy their playbook.

First, we (us squirrel hunters) have to get our minds right.  We have to be focused.  I encourage each of you who strives to be a member of our group to start the day with a little motivational self-talk. 

“I am a squirrel hunter.  I am the ultimate woodsman.  All other hunters stand coldly in my long shadow.  I am the lord of the woods”

Next, we have to speak the same language.  Bear hunters claim their ample use of feed has led to an increase in the bear population.  Note: we never make reference to “bait.”  Bait is illegal and bad.  If we want to see our squirrel population bounce back, we need to put out “feed.”  And when we are around biologists, let’s be sure to refer to the practice as “supplemental feeding.”  That is something they would teach in wildlife management at state college.  It makes us sound like we are in partnership with the commission.  Once we get the concept of “supplemental feeding” ingrained, we will get the law changed so that still hunters can’t hunt around feeders, but we will be able to turn loose on one.  The perfect plan – more squirrels and they are all ours.

Excellent example of supplemental feeding
bestturkeybait.com

We need to define what we consider “hunting for squirrels.”  We are talking ethical practices here.  I will confess to bushwacking squirrels in my younger days – I didn’t really know any better – young and dumb.  But we all know that real squirrel hunting involves dogs.  I have friends that still hunt and I guess there is some measure of sport to sitting under a hickory tree and waiting for an unsuspecting squirrel to show up.  But, dogs make it sporting – it gives the squirrel a chance.  Most people think we kill everyone we tree, but some get in a hole and some are just hard to see.  Plus, I propose that we commit to letting all the young squirrels walk.  Me personally, I just want to tree big, boar squirrels.  Before we leave the topic of still hunting, what I don’t understand at all is “incidental” hunting – those folks that kill one critter when they are really hunting another.  Makes no sense.  That is exactly the kind of practices that hurt the squirrel population.

We need standardized lines to use when certain situations arise.  For dogs that wander across a property line – an old favorite that still works:

“My dog can’t read.”

Who can argue with that logic?   You may still have to use some persuasion to get permission to get your dogs.  It works best to send your grubbest hunting partner, especially if he looks like Bobby from Sons of Anarchy, in the biggest 4x4 you can find – the muddier the better.  Who can say “no” to Bobby?  If they do say no, we will ride back and forth by their house to let them know how displeased we are with their decision.

Designated dog retriever

If caught hunting during the closed season:

            “It cost money to keep dogs.  The season ain’t long enough.”

This one is a bit problematic because of the length of the squirrel season.  If that is pointed out, follow with:

“Everybody is against a squirrel hunter.  First it’s squirrel hunting -  next they will be coming for our guns.”

And if that still isn’t getting traction make reference to the Constitution – just saying “Constitution” makes us sound legal.

No matter how much you like to roll a bushy-tail from the top of white oak, we have to remember to say with great sincerity:

“It’s all about the kids.  I would rather see a kid kill a squirrel over my dogs than me kill one.”

Note: you can substitute women, old people, veterans or handicapped hunters for kids.  Any of them makes us sound less selfish and more righteous.  If you can master the “voice crack” when uttering those lines, we will be golden.

We need to consider finding a high profile shyster lawyer in case any of us strays across the legal boundary (okay – you’re right – when we stray – remember our dogs can’t read).  Maybe we can find one that loves to be on TV and plays well to the “us against them” group.  He will cost us plenty, but we will just have to pretend he is worth it.  Maybe he will let us give him our property after we run out of money.

I’m really starting to feel good about our association.  Even if it doesn’t bring back the squirrels it will be fun to see who we can stir up.

            “I am lord of the woods.”

  I like it.

A Family Tradition: Walter C. Phipps, and Bill and Mitchell Lawrence

Phipps in Wildlife Pre-service School
Chapel Hill, N.C. 1953
Courtesy Judy Lawrence

There are few things more satisfying than when a memory surfaces unexpectedly.  While researchers have shown that our recollections are notoriously flawed, it is still a pleasant surprise when they pop up.  Just last week I was using a circular saw and the image of my Grandpa Caveny’s nubby finger popped into my head (he lost it when a saw kicked backed on him).  Then my other grandfather paid a visit while I was squirrel hunting a few days later.  The best I can recall, he only took me hunting a couple of times, but nowadays when I hunt squirrels, Grandpa Ruppe comes to mind.  Moore County Wildlife Officer Mitchell Lawrence’s career was jump-started by two grandfathers. 

Walter C. Phipps, Mitchell's great-grandfather, was born in 1926 and raised in the Piney Creek community of Alleghany County.  Phipps was a veteran of World War II, serving in the 95th Division and as a military policeman with the 6^th Service Command.  He spent a short period with the N.C. Highway Patrol before returning to Alleghany County to farm.  Phipps became a wildlife protector with the NCWRC in 1954 and spent most of his career in Davie County.  He was selected as the North Carolina Wildlife Federation's officer of the year in 1960.  He passed away in 2009.

Walter C. Phipps - Protector of the Month 1960
from Wildlife in North Carolina

Bill Lawrence - Protector of the Month 1969
from Wildlife in North Carolina

William (Bill) E. Lawrence, Mitchell’s grandfather, as born in 1940 in Bertie County.  Bill served three years in the U.S. Army and went to work with the NCWRC in 1965. After training in Asheboro, he was assigned to Iredell County.  While stationed there, he took an interest in Walter Phipps’ daughter, Judy.  Bill and Judy married and moved to Hyde County.  Bill worked out his career in Hyde, retiring in 1992.  Bill and Judy now split their time between there and Alleghany County.

"I do not remember my Grandfather or Great-Grandfather actually in the profession because my Grandad retired in the early 90’s and I was very young.  I do remember many stories and loved visiting to hear about the old game warden practices."

Mitchel Lawrence and Walter Phipps
Courtesy Judy Lawrence

"One story that always sticks out in my mind is when he [Bill] had to get some bear cubs from a tree and he used the help of a local lineman.  He asked the lineman if he wanted to use his ‘night stick’ to knock the cubs from the tree.  The lineman said no because he wasn’t going to let a little 20 lb. bear whoop him.  The lineman climbed the tree and when he attempted to knock the first bear off the limb and down into a catch blanket my grandfather had, the little ole bear nearly ripped the lineman off the branch.  After that, he slid back and said, ‘how bout throw me that night stick.’  The bears were successfully removed from the tree and safely transported."

Bill, Mitchell and Judy Lawrence at Mitchell's recruit graduation in 2013
Courtesy of Judy Lawrence

"I wanted to be a Wildlife Officer for many years.  I think the urge began before I was 10 years old but I didn’t think it was that serious until my late teens. After that, I really knew that it is what I wanted.  My grandfather was very supportive of my decision to be a WEO and he gave me a lot of good advice."

Wildlife Enforcement Officer Mitchell Lawrence

Wildlife Enforcement Officer Mitchell Lawrence

I suppose good advice is the most valuable commodity a grandfather possesses.  By the time we reach grandfather status, we have lived a life that has ebbed and flowed through most of life’s challenges.  Wisdom is sometimes shared through the stories that are told, but more often it is passed along in snatches of conversation and by living example.  Mitchell was exposed early to lives defined and shaped by service to country, community, fellow officers, and family.  It only stands to reason that he would follow those examples.