Circa 1978, or so, I duck hunted with a group of friends, including my high school history teacher, before school in the morning. If we got birds, the cooks would put them in the 'fridge for us. I remember the principle interupting one of my classes one fall day, and calling me out into the hall-everyone assumed I was in deep doo-doo. He asked if we got any ducks that morning, and noted that my friends mother's station wagon was parked in the lot with a duck boat hanging out the tailgate-he wanted me to run out to the parking lot, BRING OUR SHOTGUNS INTO THE BUILDING, and lock them in my locker, until it was time to go home.
The world was a smaller place back then. Said principle worked in the summer for friend's father, selling Ely Lilly lawn and garden products. He knew all of our names, since we all worked summers helping set up displays in home and garden stores. All of us considered it a huge privilege to hunt before and after school.
We never screwed it up. But, that said, I don't know a single kid today that wishes he could go to bed at 9:00 to get up at 4:00 to harass the local mallard population with a history teacher in plain sight. I must be getting old.
Best,
Ted
