Stuck in the band of my favorite turkey-hunting hat is a small piece of my great-granddad’s split-rail fence from the Ozarks. The fence is from the family farm in Iron County, Missouri, below Johnson Mountain. I crossed that fence many times as a small boy, and I still remember crossing it one morning in the early 1960s to take my first gobbler.

That little piece of oak wood has been all across the Ozarks, to Hawaii, Mexico’s Yucatán, Canada, Alaska, and even to Africa.

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