What Does Killing A Turkey Mean To You?

[Davyalabama]

As the title suggests, but I'm going to take it farther ----- Some of us have chased these birds a long time, others are just beginning their journeys.    The ones that have been there and done that, explain how the killing has changed over time, I guess what it means to you.

[Greg Massey]

Hopefully all my practicing - calling - cadence - scouting along with woodsmanship pays off with a gobbler flopping during the season...

Having turkeys to hunt is the main goal, after that it's up to me to be successful.. IMO

[Bowguy]

Idk there's any big reason behind it. Accomplishment perhaps but i get a bigger kick mentoring kids to a first. Or second. Still say its prob accomplishment and just what I do, how I live. That's enough reason for me.
I should add been at it since early 80s

[eggshell]

What a question! I thought about this for a while before I started this post, because what killing a Gobbler means to me now is so vastly different then it did in the beginning and middle. Killing turkeys has been a journey that journals me as a man, husband, father, friend, sportsman and lover of God's great gifts. Pursuit of a stupid bird has took me across this great country to see things I would most likely not seen if not for a bird. It has brought me great joy, pride, love, near death, anguish, heart ache, jubilation, satisfaction, acceptance, stature and face to face with God. Is killing a bird hard to do, Not at all, because the killing is simple. Aim true and put approximately two pounds of pressure on a trigger and in an instant a noble creature lies flopping his last breath away. In those following moments I have experienced the thrill of victory and agony of defeat ( credit wide world of Sports ). When I was a young man it meant a quest to conquer a great foe and earn a validation for both me and among my peers. It was a character building quest of a lifetime. Sadly it soon just made me a character. My life was defined on my reputation as a turkey killer and pride grew within me like a cancer. Come spring you didn't want to live with me until I could gloat over my trophy. I had forgotten how to hunt and sold my soul to killing. Oh I was good at killing, in my own mind if not others, but plenty where feeding my cancer. The worst thing someone could say to me me was, "why haven't you killed your bird yet, what's wrong". sadly my family paid for my pride as a killer of dumb arse birds. For many years I missed my first daughters birthdays traveling to kill turkeys. My warped mind said, just buy a nice gift and bring home to her, but what she rally longed for was daddy to have a piece of her birthday cake with her, but a bird was between me and her. I killed them by the dozens, but they all turned to sh!t in the end. As I matured and slowed up in life I started to realize so much of what drove me was really worthless. I had joys, successes and tragedies. One fateful day a very dear turkey hunting buddy breathed his last breath in my arms as I tried desperately to breath life back into him with CPR. Life meant nothing if all it done was left this great emptiness in my soul. For years I thought killing a stupid bird could help fill it, but in reality only one thing can fill that hole in a man's soul, God. I opened my heart to Jesus and he filled it. what does this have to do with killing a gobbler, everything. I now saw it as a cancer and as the idol in my life. As I grew in faith I grew in my hunting. I saw a wonderful creation and the hunt became as valuable as the kill. I could now miss a day hunting if my family needed me more, but they always made sure I could go. Funny how those who paid a price for my absence loved me enough to still open theirs lives so I could hunt. Why because in spite of the idiot that showed up every spring they loved me. Now I still go hard to get to that moment I put two pounds of pressure on a trigger, but After I do, I say a prayer over my friend that gave me so much and I smooth out his feathers and I listen to the eulogy that the woods is singing on his behalf. I admire the wildflowers and I relish looking out over a valley below and hearing that ole bird announcing his presence to a world that is missing something without a thundering gobble. I quietly take my game home now and utilize him as table fare. I will share a picture with close friends and a story, but if your not very close you will never know I killed another bird. What does killing a gobbler me to me after 54 years in this game, very little, but the hunt means a lifetime of the worst of me to the best of me and I would not want to live a life without these noble beast, well sometimes I call them demons. I hunt until I'm tired and the fun is waning and I go home. when I am engaged and dueling an old gobbler  i just wanna hear him gobble and we'll sing each other a song. If he steps inside my circle I will still take his life, but in that same moment I am a bit sad that the show is over. 

[NCL]

In some ways killing a turkey has no meaning. In other ways killing a turkey has great meaning. In the first instance as I have gotten older and see my morality coming into focus I hate that I am depriving a living creature of his existence. I other instances I enjoy the telling of the tale revolving around the taking of a turkey. I think my greatest enjoyment is the preparation to the season, the contact with an old friend for permission to hunt, and the just being out in nature. I love seeing the day come alive, gobblers gobbling, song birds singing and the marvelous sun arising behind the eastern mountains.

[Gentry]

What a question! I thought about this for a while before I started this post, because what killing a Gobbler means to me now is so vastly different then it did in the beginning and middle. Killing turkeys has been a journey that journals me as a man, husband, father, friend, sportsman and lover of God's great gifts. Pursuit of a stupid bird has took me across this great country to see things I would most likely not seen if not for a bird. It has brought me great joy, pride, love, near death, anguish, heart ache, jubilation, satisfaction, acceptance, stature and face to face with God. Is killing a bird hard to do, Not at all, because the killing is simple. Aim true and put approximately two pounds of pressure on a trigger and in an instant a noble creature lies flopping his last breath away. In those following moments I have experienced the thrill of victory and agony of defeat ( credit wide world of Sports ). When I was a young man it meant a quest to conquer a great foe and earn a validation for both me and among my peers. It was a character building quest of a lifetime. Sadly it soon just made me a character. My life was defined on my reputation as a turkey killer and pride grew within me like a cancer. Come spring you didn't want to live with me until I could gloat over my trophy. I had forgotten how to hunt and sold my soul to killing. Oh I was good at killing, in my own mind if not others, but plenty where feeding my cancer. The worst thing someone could say to me me was, "why haven't you killed your bird yet, what's wrong". sadly my family paid for my pride as a killer of dumb arse birds. For many years I missed my first daughters birthdays traveling to kill turkeys. My warped mind said, just buy a nice gift and bring home to her, but what she rally longed for was daddy to have a piece of her birthday cake with her, but a bird was between me and her. I killed them by the dozens, but they all turned to sh!t in the end. As I matured and slowed up in life I started to realize so much of what drove me was really worthless. I had joys, successes and tragedies. One fateful day a very dear turkey hunting buddy breathed his last breath in my arms as I tried desperately to breath life back into him with CPR. Life meant nothing if all it done was left this great emptiness in my soul. For years I thought killing a stupid bird could help fill it, but in reality only one thing can fill that hole in a man's soul, God. I opened my heart to Jesus and he filled it. what does this have to do with killing a gobbler, everything. I now saw it as a cancer and as the idol in my life. As I grew in faith I grew in my hunting. I saw a wonderful creation and the hunt became as valuable as the kill. I could now miss a day hunting if my family needed me more, but they always made sure I could go. Funny how those who paid a price for my absence loved me enough to still open theirs lives so I could hunt. Why because in spite of the idiot that showed up every spring they loved me. Now I still go hard to get to that moment I put two pounds of pressure on a trigger, but After I do, I say a prayer over my friend that gave me so much and I smooth out his feathers and I listen to the eulogy that the woods is singing on his behalf. I admire the wildflowers and I relish looking out over a valley below and hearing that ole bird announcing his presence to a world that is missing something without a thundering gobble. I quietly take my game home now and utilize him as table fare. I will share a picture with close friends and a story, but if your not very close you will never know I killed another bird. What does killing a gobbler me to me after 54 years in this game, very little, but the hunt means a lifetime of the worst of me to the best of me and I would not want to live a life without these noble beast, well sometimes I call them demons. I hunt until I'm tired and the fun is waning and I go home. when I am engaged and dueling an old gobbler  i just wanna hear him gobble and we'll sing each other a song. If he steps inside my circle I will still take his life, but in that same moment I am a bit sad that the show is over. 

What a great testimony. It hits close to home.

[Tom007]

The thrill and feeling I get from harvesting a Wild Turkey never gets old. Every scenario is different, every bird is different. A tough bird forces you to "figure him out" before and even if your lucky to get a shot at him. I rather chase a Ridge Running Mountain turkey than any quarry in the woods. I've been involved with sports all my life, hockey, golf, soccer, football, fishing, baseball. Turkey hunting and hockey have been my life's passion. The hockey days are finally over, but chasing these magnificent birds are not. My goal is to chase them as long as I live, Lord knows how much I love to be there, he's kept me safe all these years. I thank him everyday for my beautiful wife and the ability to keep this journey going. Amen

[Davyalabama]

Eggshell, well put.  This is exactly what I was getting at with this post.  It was to make us look deep within ourselves. 

Time from just pure killers --- just going after these birds so hard -- time missed with family, friends, etc. --- Time where the amount of turkeys killed was what gave us our sense of accomplishment --- Realizing that this bird is so majestic, so beautiful in his colors, and realizing every trigger pull isn't just our accomplishment, it is a blessing from the Lord Jesus Christ. 

Eggshell, I feel you, part of my story is in yours.

[GobbleNut]

Words and thoughts to live by as turkey hunters expressed by all, and especially yours, Dana. As Davyalabama put it, I think part of each of our stories can be found in how you have most eloquently expressed it. With more contemplation on the matter, I might find something else to add...or elaborate more from my own perspective...but I'm not certain there is any need to do so. 

[Happy]

At first, for me, it's was because very few in my neck of the woods could do it. At least consistently anyways. I went through the killing phase and competitive phase but thankfully that didn't last long. As the years  have passed things have changed a bit. Now, how I kill one is more important than if I kill one. I want it to be a challenge and if I am successful it's because it met some self-imposed  criteria. Not saying everyone needs to follow my rules but it's what gives me a sense of "earning"it. I would suspect that many who have hunted for years understand what I am saying. I hunt them because I love the process, the chess match, and the skills it takes to be successful. I quit caring about competition years ago and will happily let someone else pull the trigger. I just want to chase them. Putting a turkey in front of someone who hasn't had much success is a good time in and of itself. So when I kill one, I sit and relax and enjoy the bird and the surroundings for a bit. I was doing that before it was cool. Spring turkey hunting is top of my list when it comes to fun activities and I look forward to it like a kid at Christmas. I dont suspect that will ever change.

[Davyalabama]

Yeah, I was doing it long before it was cool.  I am human, every now and then that competitive spirit comes out.

I also have three guns I run through that were passed down, I have an urge to at least kill one with every gun, plus one of those twice, just because it has been my primary gun for 48 years.  He allowed me to carry it when it was really too big (long) for me, but I think he did it.........Nah, I don't have a clue why my uncle let me carry his "other" gun....Knowing the way he loved to kill turkeys, it was so he would have a backup gun close in case we were hunting and something happened to his.

[Twowithone]

I put the time into harvesting a Gobbler the Easterns they are a crafty bird I know I spooked more Gobblers than I harvested but when a Gobbler flops for me I know I did my homework. I will say the old saying Patience is a virtue.

[EZ]

What a question! I thought about this for a while before I started this post, because what killing a Gobbler means to me now is so vastly different then it did in the beginning and middle. Killing turkeys has been a journey that journals me as a man, husband, father, friend, sportsman and lover of God's great gifts. Pursuit of a stupid bird has took me across this great country to see things I would most likely not seen if not for a bird. It has brought me great joy, pride, love, near death, anguish, heart ache, jubilation, satisfaction, acceptance, stature and face to face with God. Is killing a bird hard to do, Not at all, because the killing is simple. Aim true and put approximately two pounds of pressure on a trigger and in an instant a noble creature lies flopping his last breath away. In those following moments I have experienced the thrill of victory and agony of defeat ( credit wide world of Sports ). When I was a young man it meant a quest to conquer a great foe and earn a validation for both me and among my peers. It was a character building quest of a lifetime. Sadly it soon just made me a character. My life was defined on my reputation as a turkey killer and pride grew within me like a cancer. Come spring you didn't want to live with me until I could gloat over my trophy. I had forgotten how to hunt and sold my soul to killing. Oh I was good at killing, in my own mind if not others, but plenty where feeding my cancer. The worst thing someone could say to me me was, "why haven't you killed your bird yet, what's wrong". sadly my family paid for my pride as a killer of dumb arse birds. For many years I missed my first daughters birthdays traveling to kill turkeys. My warped mind said, just buy a nice gift and bring home to her, but what she rally longed for was daddy to have a piece of her birthday cake with her, but a bird was between me and her. I killed them by the dozens, but they all turned to sh!t in the end. As I matured and slowed up in life I started to realize so much of what drove me was really worthless. I had joys, successes and tragedies. One fateful day a very dear turkey hunting buddy breathed his last breath in my arms as I tried desperately to breath life back into him with CPR. Life meant nothing if all it done was left this great emptiness in my soul. For years I thought killing a stupid bird could help fill it, but in reality only one thing can fill that hole in a man's soul, God. I opened my heart to Jesus and he filled it. what does this have to do with killing a gobbler, everything. I now saw it as a cancer and as the idol in my life. As I grew in faith I grew in my hunting. I saw a wonderful creation and the hunt became as valuable as the kill. I could now miss a day hunting if my family needed me more, but they always made sure I could go. Funny how those who paid a price for my absence loved me enough to still open theirs lives so I could hunt. Why because in spite of the idiot that showed up every spring they loved me. Now I still go hard to get to that moment I put two pounds of pressure on a trigger, but After I do, I say a prayer over my friend that gave me so much and I smooth out his feathers and I listen to the eulogy that the woods is singing on his behalf. I admire the wildflowers and I relish looking out over a valley below and hearing that ole bird announcing his presence to a world that is missing something without a thundering gobble. I quietly take my game home now and utilize him as table fare. I will share a picture with close friends and a story, but if your not very close you will never know I killed another bird. What does killing a gobbler me to me after 54 years in this game, very little, but the hunt means a lifetime of the worst of me to the best of me and I would not want to live a life without these noble beast, well sometimes I call them demons. I hunt until I'm tired and the fun is waning and I go home. when I am engaged and dueling an old gobbler  i just wanna hear him gobble and we'll sing each other a song. If he steps inside my circle I will still take his life, but in that same moment I am a bit sad that the show is over. 

WOW...I have nothing to add to this. Parallels my experience exactly. Very well said.

[mountainhunter1]

What a question! I thought about this for a while before I started this post, because what killing a Gobbler means to me now is so vastly different then it did in the beginning and middle. Killing turkeys has been a journey that journals me as a man, husband, father, friend, sportsman and lover of God's great gifts. Pursuit of a stupid bird has took me across this great country to see things I would most likely not seen if not for a bird. It has brought me great joy, pride, love, near death, anguish, heart ache, jubilation, satisfaction, acceptance, stature and face to face with God. Is killing a bird hard to do, Not at all, because the killing is simple. Aim true and put approximately two pounds of pressure on a trigger and in an instant a noble creature lies flopping his last breath away. In those following moments I have experienced the thrill of victory and agony of defeat ( credit wide world of Sports ). When I was a young man it meant a quest to conquer a great foe and earn a validation for both me and among my peers. It was a character building quest of a lifetime. Sadly it soon just made me a character. My life was defined on my reputation as a turkey killer and pride grew within me like a cancer. Come spring you didn't want to live with me until I could gloat over my trophy. I had forgotten how to hunt and sold my soul to killing. Oh I was good at killing, in my own mind if not others, but plenty where feeding my cancer. The worst thing someone could say to me me was, "why haven't you killed your bird yet, what's wrong". sadly my family paid for my pride as a killer of dumb arse birds. For many years I missed my first daughters birthdays traveling to kill turkeys. My warped mind said, just buy a nice gift and bring home to her, but what she rally longed for was daddy to have a piece of her birthday cake with her, but a bird was between me and her. I killed them by the dozens, but they all turned to sh!t in the end. As I matured and slowed up in life I started to realize so much of what drove me was really worthless. I had joys, successes and tragedies. One fateful day a very dear turkey hunting buddy breathed his last breath in my arms as I tried desperately to breath life back into him with CPR. Life meant nothing if all it done was left this great emptiness in my soul. For years I thought killing a stupid bird could help fill it, but in reality only one thing can fill that hole in a man's soul, God. I opened my heart to Jesus and he filled it. what does this have to do with killing a gobbler, everything. I now saw it as a cancer and as the idol in my life. As I grew in faith I grew in my hunting. I saw a wonderful creation and the hunt became as valuable as the kill. I could now miss a day hunting if my family needed me more, but they always made sure I could go. Funny how those who paid a price for my absence loved me enough to still open theirs lives so I could hunt. Why because in spite of the idiot that showed up every spring they loved me. Now I still go hard to get to that moment I put two pounds of pressure on a trigger, but After I do, I say a prayer over my friend that gave me so much and I smooth out his feathers and I listen to the eulogy that the woods is singing on his behalf. I admire the wildflowers and I relish looking out over a valley below and hearing that ole bird announcing his presence to a world that is missing something without a thundering gobble. I quietly take my game home now and utilize him as table fare. I will share a picture with close friends and a story, but if your not very close you will never know I killed another bird. What does killing a gobbler me to me after 54 years in this game, very little, but the hunt means a lifetime of the worst of me to the best of me and I would not want to live a life without these noble beast, well sometimes I call them demons. I hunt until I'm tired and the fun is waning and I go home. when I am engaged and dueling an old gobbler  i just wanna hear him gobble and we'll sing each other a song. If he steps inside my circle I will still take his life, but in that same moment I am a bit sad that the show is over. 

Thank you for sharing your journey. I respect those fine thoughts Eggshell!

[Mossyguy]

It's truly a double edged sword for me. It means that I don't get to play the game with that particular bird anymore..but yet more often than not I still pull the trigger. That probably makes no sense at all...