Pennsylvania Game News - November 2015 - 28

K

NOWN TO HIS GRANDKIDS, as
"Pop," my grandfather, Art Hayes,
was an amazing wing shooter and one
of the best deer hunters I've ever known.
He also was a jokester, and his friends
and family surely would feel the bite of
his wit at one time or another.
Pop grew up the hard way, mining coal
near Kersey, Pa.
It was depressing, dirty and backbreaking work. Down into the mine in
the predawn darkness and, after a 10-hour
day, back up the shaft into the early night.
Except for Sundays and evenings
during the summer, he never saw daylight.
When the Great Depression hit and
the mine work slowed, Pop and Gram
gathered the few dollars they had, said
goodbye to family and friends and, determined to better their lives, moved north to
work on the Civilian Conservation Corps
project in McKean County.
Pop, Gram and their three children
lived in a 10- by 12-foot wall tent that
summer, as he and his fellow workers
built the fire road from Willow Creek to
Sugar Run.
The summer's work and sacrifice
enabled Pop to save enough money to
move to Bradford, where he purchased a
modest house, found employment at the
Bradford Motor Works, and worked his
way up to eventually became company
superintendent.
Pop was tough, muscular and wiry,
and not a man to mess with. But overall,
he was fun-loving and his bubbling good
humor made him popular.
Of course, everyone who knew him
became a little wary if his brown eyes
started twinkling, for all at one time or
another had become the victim of one of
his largely harmless practical jokes.
The joke was seldom on Pop.
28

Fate, however, has a sense of humor
and can play a few jokes of its own.
Pop was hunting bears with a bunch
of his woods-savvy cronies near Railroad
Run in the late 1950s.
Lunchtime found the hungry crew
back at the campsite for chow.
The hunters were busy with their meals
when suddenly Pop spoke up and said,
"Well, look what's coming!"
Curious eyes looked down the trail, and
in startled amusement, noticed a hunter
striding up the trail - and he was a sight
to behold.
The newcomer looked as if he had just
been unwrapped, immaculate in brand
new Woolrich clothing of the highest
quality.
A just-out-of-the-box Model 70 .30-06
rifle was slung over his shoulder on an
ornate, hand-engraved leather sling.
On his hip hung a gleaming Bowie
knife of impressive size. Fancy lace-up
L.L. Bean boots - shining and right out
of the box - shod his feet and, last but
not least, two bandoliers of ammo crisscrossed his chest bandit style.
Apparently, feeling his clothing hadn't
given him quite the dash necessary, a
white "camper's" hat was cocked jauntily on his head, quite at odds with the
traditional Woolrich, big woods, tone of
his clothing.
Pop's hard-bitten friends looked at
one another in amazement, seemingly
struck dumb by this sparkling neophyte,
who apparently had stepped right out of
a catalog onto the trail in front of them.
Always the gentleman, Pop asked the
stranger if he would care to join them for
lunch.
Good naturedly, the stranger declined
anything to eat, but accepted a steaming
tin cup of coffee.
Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Pennsylvania Game News - November 2015
