A Young Man’s First and Last Deer Hunt

By Denny L. Vasquez

First there was a soft shuffling of feet. Then a low, muffled cough as someone tried to clear their throat of early morning phlegm with as little noise as possible. Next came a slight creaking from one of the chairs as someone shifted around trying to find a comfortable position. Finally came the first whisper of the day, “Mr. Denny, will we see my buck today?” That whisper came from my anxious young hunter.

As the early morning light slowly began to creep across the fog shrouded landscape before us, the little song birds flitted from bush to bush saluting the new day with a musical serenade that not even the best composers can match. I slowly leaned over to my 13 year old charge and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder said, “I’m sure we will see your buck today. You just have to be ready to shoot when Mr. Chris tells you to shoot. Ok?” Then I exchanged a knowing look with his father as I glanced over his shoulder before returning my attention to the video camera I would use to tape the hunt for my young hunter. (The names of my young hunter and his father as well as their photographs have been omitted from this story at his family’s request. I think you will understand why by the end of my tale.)

This was the third sunrise we had watched together, my young hunter and I, as we sought his dream buck. The third time he had gotten up an hour earlier than the rest of us in the hunting camp to take his morning treatment so that he would be allowed to pursue his dream hunt. Third time I had rolled over in my bunk with tears misting my eyes as I listened to my young hunter moan in pain when his mother tried to find a spot that wasn’t as tender as all the rest in which to administer his daily IV of drugs. Drugs that allowed him to live a resemblance of what we call a normal life. You see, my young charge suffered from an advanced case of what is known as Hodgkin’s disease.

Hodgkin’s disease is a type of lymphoma. Lymphomas are cancers that develop in the lymph system, part of the body’s immune system. Because there is lymph tissue in many parts of the body, Hodgkin’s disease can start in almost any part of the body. The cancer can then spread to almost any organ or tissue in the body, including the liver, bone marrow (the spongy tissue inside the large bones of the body that makes blood cells), and the spleen. In my young hunter’s case, it was the cancer in the other parts of his body that was the problem.

Unfortunately his cancer had gone undetected too long before it had been accidentally discovered during a yearly check up for football. This is when his physician first noticed the swollen lymph nodes in his groin area; the rest is as they say history. At the time I received the plea for help in arranging his dream hunt, the doctors had already predicted that he had less than three months to live. So through the graciousness of our host we accelerated his hunting trip and here we were, in a hunting blind on a south Texas ranch.

The first thing to make an appearance that morning was a flock of Rio Grande Turkeys. They slowly made their way out of the early morning mist, appearing to be ethereal apparitions that quickly floated on top of the ground fog as they ambled over toward the corn we had spread out on the ground. As they began to peck their way across the field they were joined by a herd of six javelina, that because of the shorter stature simply appeared to materialize out of the ground fog itself.

Chris, the rancher who was hosting us leaned over and told our young hunter that he could shoot a turkey or javelina if he wanted to and then we could try for his whitetail later. He replied, “Thanks, but no thanks. I came after my buck and that is what I want to shoot.” Chris and I exchanged a knowing look, both of us hoping that a buck, any buck, would make an appearance this morning.

As we were watching the turkeys and javlina, the first doe stuck her head out of the distant brush line, about 125 yards down the sendero or right of way. Cautiously she searched the open area before slowly making her way toward the feeding turkeys. She had almost reached them when my young hunter leaned over toward his dad and whispered that he thought he was going to be sick. His dad shook his head knowingly as he pulled out the plastic bag he had brought along just for such a situation.

It turned out that the medicine he had to take everyday often made him sick at his stomach, sometimes to the point that he had to purge himself of his breakfast. This was one of those times and Chris and I watched the turkeys and javelina high tail it for parts unknown as our young hunter began retching. Looking at each other we knew that his chance of taking a good buck was that much slimmer now.

When he had finished he looked out at the open field and asked where all of the animals had gone. Chris said that it was time for them to move on but that we would sit a while longer to see what else might come in to taste our corn.

My young charge nodded slowly and laid his head down to rest on his arm that was positioned on the window sill of the blind. His father lovingly reached over and rustled his hair with a look that any parent would recognize in his eyes. Then he looked up and upon seeing me watching smiled. He whispered that even if we didn’t get his son a deer he has had a chance to do something he has always talked about, going deer hunting on a real hunting ranch.

It was about 30 minutes later that Chris noticed the doe coming back out to feed. I asked him if we should wake our young hunter up and he said, “No let him rest until a buck comes in.” As we continued to watch several more does and young spikes or fork horned bucks made their way into the field. Then all of a sudden they all stopped and looked back down the sendero. Chris told our young hunter’s father to wake him up because he thought a buck was coming in.

Just as we got our young hunter up and awake a good ten pointer stepped out of the brush line about 250 yards away. You could almost feel the tension in the stand as we collectively held our breath. Would he come closer? The range limit that we had set for our young hunter based upon his time at the range was 125 yards. We all felt certain that he could hit his deer within that range.

Our hearts continued their clamoring in our chests as the anticipation grew stronger. I glanced over at my young hunter to see how he was doing and noticed that he had a great big grin on his face. He looked over at me, giving me a wink and thumbs up before whispering, “I’m ready when you are.”

As the buck slowly made its way closer I heard his dad murmuring a pray that the buck would keep on coming in and not turn off into the brush. I guess that the powers that be heard his request because the buck came to within 50 yards of our stand before stopping and turning broadside to eat. Then everything began running in slow motion.

Chris said that it was ok to shoot – our young hunter whispered yeah! – I was trying to watch both the deer and our shooter – His dad was whispering now son, shoot him now! - Then came the resounding BOOM!!! as our young hunter pulled the trigger on his .270. - Watching through the lenses of the video camera I saw his shot hit home as the old buck reared up before falling on his side, never to move again. – Then as I turned to pat him on the shoulder my young hunter grinned and said, “I did it Mr. Denny, I did it! I finally got my buck!”

Pandemonium broke out in the stand, Chris was jumping up and slapping our hunter’s father on the back while we were high fiving each other shouting out our joy that our hunter had gotten his deer. Then as his father turned toward Chris to shake his hand I looked down and noticed that our young hunter had laid his head back on his arm, as though he had gone back to sleep. Slowly I sat back down to look at him closer. That is when I noticed that it did not appear that he was breathing.

I shouted up at Chris and his father that I thought something was wrong. They stopped their celebration and turned to look at our young hunter. His father’s eyes began to tear up as he slowly sat down next to his son. He softly called his name but received no reply. Then looking into my eyes he gently reached out to shake his son’s shoulder. At his touch our young hunter’s body tilted slightly in my direction before loosing its balance and gently collapsing into my lap.

As my eyes began to tear up his father shook my shoulder and said, “No, don’t cry for him. We knew that he might not have lived long enough to have even made this trip, but he did. And now he has had the chance to take the dream buck he always wanted. He died doing what he always dreamed about and not laying up in bed in a hospital somewhere with all of those needles in his arms. No, don’t cry for him, instead be happy for him because he got to do something that most of us never will, he realized his dream in life.” Realizing that I had helped to make that dream a reality, I could only be thankful to have played a small part in making it so.

While working to make his dream hunt come true I was in contact with my young hunter and his parents on an almost daily basis. It was through these phone calls that I learned that he was a typical teenager with plans for high school and then college. Along the way he planned to get his Eagle badge in the Boy Scout program that he loved so much. And he wanted to go on to be a doctor so that he could help others that suffered as he did. He once told me that he figured that God had let him suffer so much pain so that when he finally became a doctor he would be able to understand his patient’s needs that much better.

These phone calls also allowed me to get to know his mother and father. And being a parent myself, sharing their fears and concerns about his safety and health were something I could relate to. The fear of losing a child was also something I understood as I had lost my third child at an early age.

The hunt for this vivacious youngster was my 11th youth hunt in 2003, but it had really begun six weeks earlier. I have been sponsoring, assisting with, guiding, cooking for and skinning animals on youth hunts for over 20 years in not only in my native state of Texas, but in 26 other states and 4 Canadian provinces. These hunts have been sponsored by such organizations as the Texas Youth Hunting Program, Ducks Unlimited, Safari Club International and Hunt of a Lifetime.

Now, please bear with me as I am not telling you this to brag about how much I have done, in fact just the opposite is true. I am relating this tale to you to let you know how much still needs to be done and how much your efforts can mean to not only those young people you take hunting or shooting, but to their families as well. It was because of my work with Hunt of a Lifetime that I received a call about arranging this hunt.

Today there are many more kids and adults alike that are in the same boat as our young hunter was. There are also many organizations out there that are trying to make these dreams come true; Hunt of a Lifetime www.huntofalifetime.org 866-345-4455 based in Pennsylvania; Catch a Dream http://catchadream.org 662-325-3174 based in Mississippi; United Special Sportsmen Alliance http://www.deerfood.com/ussa.htm 800-518-8019 based in Wisconsin; the NWTF’s Wheeling Sportsmen 800-THE-NWTF based in South Carolina; and many more.

Do you remember what your first hunt was like? What it meant to you? What about the first time you harvested a good buck or long bearded tom? Please take a minute to consider what a few minutes of your time or that spare change on the dresser to can mean to these organizations. Think about what it could mean to those they are trying to help. After all the more people we have out hunting, the more people who will vote pro-hunting when the time comes.