We buried Uncle Willie Razor today.  He was a man who took the time to let me tag along on outdoor trips when I was a kid.  I guess you could say he let me get a taste of this outdoor stuff;  in an adopted  sort of way.  He was with me when I flushed my first pheasant.  That loud cackle nearly gave me  a heart attack and the single shot 12 gauge that was loaned to me nearly broke my shoulder.  I don’t regret a thing about any day I spent with him.  The memories are as vivd as a color television.  I’m know the expereiences he gave to me helped mold me into the man I am today.  I’ve got a great story that I will share in the coming months in my seminars that just happened to my son on our latest deer hunt.  For some reason, I think Uncle Wille had something to do with it.  I will tell the story to his son Mark before anyone else.  He deserves to hear it and reflect on what his daddy meant to me.  Thanks for sharing your dad with me  Mark and rest easy Uncle.

ps I can still hear him laugh and say “you missed that bird by a long mile, can’t get you a bigger gun cause you won’t have no teeth left.”