My grandfather took one last sip of coffee, pushed his breakfast plate aside, and stood as he pulled out his pocket watch. Opening the lid of the old timepiece, he said, "You'd better be going, boy, if you want to kill turkey."

His words caught me off guard, so much so that it was several seconds before I could stammer a reply. "But pop, aren't you going with me . . . ? I've never been turkey hunting before."

"I'd like to, Ray, but you know I've got chores to do," he answered putting a hand on my shoulder. "Besides, the only way you're really going to learn is to get up there and do it by yourself. Now come on, you'd better get going."