Dad was not only an avid turkey hunter, he was also an avid turkey shooter. For those of you who didn't grow up in Alabama, a turkey shoot is a shooting contest with the prize being a turkey of the frozen Butterball variety.
A turkey shoot consisted of several rounds. Usually about ten or so people would pay their entry fee and then shoot at paper targets with an X in the center. The person with a pellet hole closest to the center of the X would win the turkey and then the next round would begin.
Dad test fired his shotguns at home and had a very good idea of their shot patterns before he would take them to a contest.
One Saturday when I was home from college dad woke me up early and said we were going to a turkey shoot in Fayetteville. When we got there he paid the fee and handed me a sixteen gauge. He said, "Aim to the bottom left of the target."
I aimed to the bottom left and sure enough the majority of the pellets hit the center of the X. I won the first round. He paid for the second round and handed me a twelve gauge. He said, "Aim dead center."
Once again I had the closest hit and won the turkey. On the third round I used his twenty gauge and with some expert advice, won the turkey again.
After winning the first three rounds he announced, "Well I think we've had enough of this one. Let's not be piggish about it."
The fellow running the shoot said, "Don't you think it's a little too late for that?"
To which dad replied, "Come on son, get those turkeys and let's go. I hear the've got hams for prizes in Marble Valley."
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