For This Single Mother, Hunting was a Means of Survival

I got a late start in my hunting experiences, but I am happy I hung in there. As a child I was drawn to the outdoors, where God’s beauty always touched my soul. My father was an avid hunter, but my mother had an unrealistic fear of firearms, so he quit hunting after marrying her. I signed up for the hunter’s safety course when I was 12 but had to drop out because of her fears.

It wasn’t until age 25 when I began bowhunting for whitetails. It took me four years to harvest my first deer, mostly because I did not believe in myself enough. I would have loved to have had SCI back then, or any other group advocating for women to learn how to hunt. I am a self-taught hunter, graduating from the school of hard knocks! I have been hunting for 35 years now, and I love it just the same as I did on day one.

I have never been a trophy hunter; I didn’t have that luxury. I was a single mom raising my son with no financial support, so hunting literally meant survival for us and the difference between being vegetarians or carnivores. I have always asked God to provide for us, and anything he sent my way was appreciated.

I have so many stories of triumph, laughter, loss and awe of God’s creations. One of my favorites is of my autistic son helping me follow a blood trail. He has been on many blood trails with me and is an outstanding tracker. On this particular evening, I had taken a small six-pointer with my bow and my son joined me to track him down. He had his favorite “Percy The Train” flashlight. As we made our way through the woods, this talking flashlight would let out a “toot toot” then say, “Man, it sure is dark out here!” It kept me giggling the whole time. When we finally found the little buck, we had traveled about 50 yards. I opened him up and removed the entrails. My son gagged, and, referring to the large gut pile laying in front of him, he exclaimed, “Put it back, MOM!! Put it back!”

My stories are not of huge bucks or exotic locations, although I have dreamed of these types of hunts. My son is now 18, and I am finally at a point in life where I can make those dreams happen. I have donated my artwork to SCI for years. This year I decided to join and become an active member of the great Georgia Chapter. SCI advocates for all of our hunting rights; I appreciate that. I attended the chapter banquet in April and met many wonderful people. I look forward to many more events.

Learning to be a hunter and a steward of the land has molded who I am. I process my deer and bears. I make my own sausage and jerky. The remaining scraps I process into a healthy dog food. My love for hunting and fishing has had a huge impact on my art as well. I am a steel sculptor whose work is greatly influenced by nature. The outdoor lifestyle is me to the core.

By Deborah Mitchell