Story told by Richard Burton, 1999
Back in the 1950’s pheasants used to be as thick a blackbirds on the old ranch. Every November Dad, his brother Harold and I would drive over to the farm at Escalon and go bird hunting. I remember one year driving over from San Jose the fog was so thick I had to sit on the running board of the car to see if the road turned.
When I was thirteen Dan and Grandpa gave me my first shotgun. I got a little 410 gauge shotgun and a two hour safety lecture. Let me interject that Grandpa was the best shot I ever saw. He used to hunt quail that are small and fast. Shooting pheasants was like shooting at a barn from close range to him.
Well that afternoon Grandpa and I were alone and walking in a field just east of the house. I was on the left side and Grandpa was on the right when a big rooster pheasant went up right between us. Grandpa was left handed and had longer to raise his gun to shoot than I did. I beat him to the shot and bagged the bird. Being 13, I said some smart alec remark like, “Don’t worry Grandpa, I’ll get one for you so we’ll have two for dinner.” I was too full of myself to notice the smoke coming out of his ears. About five minutes later a jack rabbit jumped up and started to run away. Jack rabbits were a serious pest at the dairy back then. I remember getting together with the neighbors and “driving” the fields and shooting all the rabbits we saw. One cow who steps in a rabbit hole could break a leg and be lost.
When this rabbit jumped and ran it was second nature to blast it. I did. Then I heard a voice that sounded like God talking to Moses. “You don’t shoot anything you don’t eat.” Fast forward and I’m on the back steps trying to separate the fur from the rabbit.
Inside the house I hear two rather loud voices. This was the only time I heard Grandpa and Grandma raise their voices to each other. Pearl: “You’re not bringing a jack rabbit into my kitchen.” Elmer: “The boy has to learn a lesson.” Pearl: “Not in my kitchen.” I don’t have to tell you who won but have you ever eaten jack rabbit? Pull off a Nike athletic shoe and bite. Not too much difference. Grandpa sure enjoyed my pheasant.
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