Darrell had gone to north Georgia to help one of his girlfriends move to a new trailer park leaving Dwayne (pronounced Deewayne) home at their place between Cartersville and Kennesaw Mountain. During the past week, Dewayne had called my hunting partner Craig Harmon, now deceased, and said that he had found a couple more coveys of birds along a creek we had frequented the past season and Craig had immediately set us up for a hunt the coming Saturday afternoon.

Ready to shoot some birds, on time Saturday, we arrived at our designated “meet. After the one plus, hour ride from Sandy Springs, Rooster, my Brittany, was ready to hunt and we began along a flowing creek, lined by harvested soy bean fields on both sides. We were soon into the first covey, Rooster hard on point, and dropped two quail, the balance of the birds high tailing it into some thick cover on the other side of the field. Dewayne, ever the gentleman, said, “I’ll go root those birds out of the cover. Both you all want to come with me?”

Dwayne in the lead, we didn’t find the flushed covey, but clearing the thick cover, there standing before us and looking right at us, was a turkey. No fall season in Georgia, so I yelled at Dewayne as I saw him raising his shotgun, “Dewayne, don’t sh,’ bam’, oot! He had just dispatched a domestic, hen turkey
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Happily, lifting up the bird, he exclaimed, “How about taking a picture for me?” We declined explaining, “A picture of this illegal bird could really get you into trouble!” Two weekends ago his twin brother Darrell had shot a rooster out of a tree and now Dewayne shoots this turkey. As Dewayne was taking the turkey back to his old truck, we took this opportunity to end our hunt.

Craig, or I, never went back to hunt with the twins, Darrell and Dewayne (pronounced Deewayne).