Covey Call.... News from The Webb Farm

The time from Thanksgiving to Christmas has always held a special significance for me; the excitement of opening day of bird season, the warmth of that golden glow of light that you only really see during this time of year as you follow a pointing dog to your favorite cover in hopes of finding that sundown covey. It is the most special season for a bird hunter raised in the Sandhills of North Carolina. I know I developed my love for this time of year by seeing it through a child's eyes as I watched my dad and my Uncle Elsie Webb, both avid quail hunters.

Life slowed down for them around this time of year, especially the Christmas Season. Dad would close down the sawmill for an extended time, and Uncle Elsie would vacate his law office for about a two week stretch. Their interest in making a living was irrevocably transformed into the pursuit of bobwhite quail on The Webb Farm.

During my early childhood years I was too young to go with them, but I remember the blue and white '59 Willys panel Jeep pulling around the drive with Uncle Elsie at the wheel. I would follow Dad out as he grabbed his vest and 12 gauge A5. The Jeep has a permanent dog box built in the back end (they were serious about this sport) stuffed full of setters and pointers, and there was always a big cardboard box on the top of the dog box. It was amazing. It was full of hoop cheese, crackers, fig newtons, peppermint candy, Vienna Sausage, sardines, and everything else imaginable. And there was always a bottle of bourbon, or in the later years a Mason Jar of Junior Johnson's moonshine with white peaches stuffed in it, or Peach Smash as it was called, with which they would toast their day afield. Dad rolled in after dark in the evenings with a red nose and a vest full of birds.

As I grew older, I was able to get in on some of this holiday fun until my Dad's unfortunate stroke in 1969 that hampered his hunting for a few years, and the death of my Uncle Elsie in '72. His death was a big blow to the family hunting heritage. Dad got back in the field in the mid-70's, and the two of us spent many Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve mornings behind a bird dog until his passing in '97. These were very special times for me that I will always cherish. He really taught me a lot about the outdoors.

I've also spent many holiday hunts with my buddy David Huffine, a Wilmington attorney. David and his son Will have spent a lot of the last 25 years hunting here at the Farm. David's dad, the late Bill Huffine was a realtor when he wasn't hunting or field trialing his dogs, so David got the bug honest too. I look forward to Christmas hunts with David in a few days. It will be great fun.

But my special time afield for Christmas this season I hope will be with my middle daughter Jenna, now 23 who is studying to become a gunsmith at Montgomery Community College. She will ultimately be charged one day with carrying on our family hunting traditions. Based on our outing at Thanksgiving she will do fine! We spent a special afternoon together watching fine dog work from Dixie and Buck and many wonderful covey rises. I also watched a young woman who shot a lot and giggled a lot "'cause the birds were really fast." She's a lot like her granddaddy, and I believe she will develop into a great wingshooter like him.

In closing , let me encourage everyone to create your own Holiday Tradition with a child if you have not done so. It doesn't have to be a hunt. It can be a hike on your favorite trail, searching a field for arrowheads, a winter trout fishing trip, or looking for shells along a quiet beach. Whatever the activity, it will be a great thing for you to enjoy, and lay the foundation for a child to develop the appreciation for the outdoors we all share.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!
Bill