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To this day, I have never understood what it was about goose hunting that would possess a grown man to travel thousands miles, while spending thousands of dollars to our area each Fall. They would happily sit in a freezing blind for hours on end just for a chance to shoot at one! As teenager growing up in the late 1960’s I could have dropped by Alice's poultry, and bought one (already cleaned) for no more than three dollars. I could have done so, had I liked to eat goose. I didn’t care for them back then, nor do I now.
As natives, we probably take our easily-accessible Swan Lake Wildlife Refuge too much for granted. The Sumner/Fountain Grove area is only about 30 minutes from Chillicothe. I never realized just how small Sumner is (142 people in the 2000 census)! However, the more than 10,000 acre Swan Lake Refuge is on one of the major North American migratory bird flight-lines. It attracts over 200,000 Canadians (geese that is) each year. As such, this beautiful and storied part of North Missouri most certainly lives up to its billing as “The Wild Goose Capital of the World.” It thought you may enjoy this amazing video that was made a few weeks ago of the Snow geese that winter-over at Swan Lake (Silver Lake specifically).
Return with me now to a wintry day in November of 1967, where our story begins. My older cousins from northern Iowa had made their annual trip down to hunt geese. This particular year my cousin from California joined us at Kay's Pits near Sumner. We would always reserve a blind in the front row closest to the water. The weather was typical for late November. It was cold and freezing. There was water in the floor of our blind and the wind was howling, with nothing to drink but black coffee (which I hated as a sixteen year old). I raised my feet up and huddled in the corner trying to stay warm. I brought my trusty 20 gauge Remington pump, undersized for those big Canadian Geese. On the other hand, my cousins brought 10 and 12 gauge shotguns which fired 3" magnum shells.
Because it was windy, the geese stayed in the Swan Lake Refuge a little longer that morning. About nine, along came a flock flying higher than a kite! They are too high guys, I said. Look, none of the other people are shooting. But they had come to shoot! So all at once, my cousins threw open our blind and turned loose with their big guns: Boom! Boom! Boom! The birds flew on by without a scratch. They asked me why I didn't shoot and I told them the geese were too high and my gun was too small.
About noon, another flock came by, it was just a little lower but still too high for a good shot with any weapon we had. As they came over our blind my cousins did their thing once again: Boom! Boom! Boom! They missed every one of them. Again, I didn't fire. But suddenly a lone goose passed over honking away and trying to catch up with the main flight. He was still flying too high, but they told me that this one was mine. With some reluctance, I raised my 20 gauge and shot. He stopped honking and flapping his wings and started dropping! I think everyone at Kay’s Pits were shocked because none of them had bothered with this loner, and he really was too high.
Maxie at Sumner, Mo.
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He landed at the far end of Kay's Pits and he was upright, stumbling around, still stunned. I jumped out of our pit and started towards him, gun in hand. As I trotted along, I came to realize that he was a bit farther away than I had first thought. Over rough ground my trot had slowed to a fast walk. As I passed the other guys, they called out things like “great shot!”and “what did you use?” By the time I finally reached my goose, he had nearly regained his senses.
Suddenly, I realized that in my haste I had left the pit without any ammo! The nearest guy told me to shoot it. I responded by telling him of my situation. A 12 gauge shell came flying my way. I said thanks, but I need 20 gauge shells. By now, the goose is getting very, very angry. The tables had turned! The hunter was now the hunted! Based upon past childhood encounters with angry fowl, I quickly backed away. Their bites can hurt! The guys in the surrounding pits are laughing their heads off and I'm dancing around trying to stay clear of those powerful wings. After considerable rummaging about in his gear for a spare 20 gauge shell, a guy found one and yet another shell came flying my way. I snatched it out of the air, quickly reloaded, pumped, and fired at his head. To this day, I have yet to understand how every pellet missed!
Enraged, he charged me in full attack mode! I hit him with my gun barrel right in the neck! I grabbed him by the neck and straddled him to avoid being flogged by those powerful wings! Have you ever watched a man kill a angry Canadian goose with his bare hands? Well, if I were a betting man --- I would bet my money on the goose! I slowly walked back to my blind with my kill. Everyone was out of their pits to a man: clapping their hands, stomping their feet, and laughing and hooting like crazy. I had made their day! I have not hunted geese since. Besides, I bent the barrel on that old Remington pump. DB
It's the Pits! Danny (R) and Cousin
Editor’s note: I identified strongly with Danny on his story, and feel much the same about hunting waterfowl as he does today. I have some childhood recollections, but not nearly as funny. I would have to believe that Danny’s story was recounted for years thereafter, maybe with some embellishments as it likely took on a life of its own. So Danny, you should take some solace in that retelling this tale likely made future generations of Swan Lake hunter’s time pass by a little faster; as they sat in water-soaked pits for hours on end, teeth chattering, body shivering, hoping and praying for just one more chance to: Boom! Boom! Boom! GT
Hi, I am Danny Batson (Knouse) and I am a lifelong resident of the Chillicothe area. I was born in 1951 and graduated from CHS in 1969. I took over my dad’s septic tank business that he founded in 1937. While I have been in every state (except Hawaii and Maine), there is no place like home! I love taking pictures of old and unusual things and sharing them. There is beauty in everything, if we look for it. I have three Facebook pages filled with local pictures that may be of interest: “Where Has Danny Been,” Chillicothe Now,” and “Danny Batson”.
Hi, I am Gary Thomas and I was born just across from Central School in 1942. I graduated from CHS in 1960 and MU in 1964. After two years in Army, I completed a graduate degree at the University of Chicago in 1970. After working in software development for more than 40 years, I retired from Raytheon in 2007. I have an abiding interest in history and in researching past events, places, and people. My latest project is determining the whereabouts of about 300 WWII veterans that were known as the Alamo Scouts in WWII. This elite, clandestine intelligence group of the Sixth Army in the SW Pacific served as the “role model” for the present day Navy SEALs.
