Life in These Parts

Fictional accounts of life in the
Upper Delaware River Valley

By Tom Kane

Good hunting

Troy and Kathy Armstead moved up from the city three years ago, from the Cobble Hill neighborhood in Brooklyn.

The grit and grime of the city had been slowly getting to them: street people sleeping in the subways and in the doorway of their condo; car alarms that went off in the middle of the night; the endless string of fire trucks, ambulances and police cars with alarms blaring. The excitement that they had felt when they first lived there was diminished by all the increasing negativity.

“We felt guilty about the street people, but we didn’t know what we could do about it,” Kathy said.

“We had the dream that we could work with customers through the Internet,” Troy said. “We designed a web page, sold our condo and moved. We took a big risk. It was tough at first, but now it’s working. Let’s just say we’re making it.”

They have 60 acres just over the county border above Long Pond. Their place is right at the entrances of two big state game preserves. Deer, turkeys and bears come off the preserve and walk on their land. For years, while the property was owned by Ed Reum, a local gun club had access to the property.

After the first year, Troy and Kathy decided that they didn’t want hunters ranging around in their woods shooting off guns. They have a five-year old boy, Jonathan, who likes to romp around the property. They feared for his safety and, I guess, their own. City people have a wholly different feeling about guns than country people do, which is no surprise. City people aren’t used to them, and see them only as instruments of crime.

Last November, they called Birdie Olver, the president of the gun club, and told him they didn’t want the club members to use their land any more. Birdie, a deputy sheriff for the county, did his best to talk them out of it.

“Let me stop by and we can talk about it some more,” Birdie said. “There are some things that you might not have thought of.”

Kathy and Troy, being good neighbors, let him come. Now you have to understand, Birdie is a huge man, six feet four inches and 250 pounds. When he came through the door in his deputy uniform with his big Smith and Wesson revolver strapped to his belt, it didn’t exactly allay Troy and Kathy’s fear of guns. Rather, it reinforced it. Birdie realized later that he exercised poor judgment in going there armed and in full uniform, unconsciously confirming their fears.

When word got around to the members of the club, a lot of remarks were thrown around about the couple and about city people in general. The club has a shack not far from the Armstead property where members gather during the year to drink beer and just hang out. Actually, they’re a great bunch of guys. Most of them are members of the volunteer fire company, and they’re very community-minded. Good fellows all around.

Well, unfortunately, one of the boys--I hear it was Berle Hanson, not the brightest star on the club’s membership list—stopped by Troy and Kathy’s house one day and tried to talk them out of the ban. The couple listened to Berle’s inarticulate but passionate plea about how many generations have been hunting there and how great the game was—coming right off the game preserve and all—but Troy and Kathy wouldn’t budge.

“Well,” Berle was supposed to have said, “you know, all the members of the club are firemen, and if you should happen to have a fire up here, well, it being such a long way from town and all, we might not be able to get up here so quick.”

Troy kept control of himself and ended the conversation right there. The next day, they went down to see Charlie Laudenslager, the town supervisor, to complain about the veiled threat.

“Pay no attention whatever to Berle Hanson,” Charlie said. “He’s just—well, he’s intellectually challenged, I think is the proper way to say it. None of the volunteers would ever deliberately do anything like that. They’re too conscientious and community minded. Fires anywhere threaten all of us, and they know that. So put your minds at rest.”

Charlie also explained to them how important hunting is to many of the people in the area.

“It’s not just a sport for some people,” Charlie said. “You may not realize it, but many folks depend on getting a couple of deer so they can fill up their freezers with venison for the year. A lot of folks around here don’t make much money, and hunting helps their budget.”

That thought had never occurred to Troy and Kathy.

“I guess we can keep Jonathan indoors for deer season,” Kathy said. “It wouldn’t be so hard. What do you think, Troy?”

A year ago, Troy hit a deer one night and wrecked his grill, headlight and fender. Repairs cost over $2,000.” I guess we can compromise and allow it for deer season,” Troy said. “A few less deer wouldn’t hurt,” he added.

Hunters are back on the property and everybody’s happy all around—except, of course, the deer.