Editor’s note: This is the 98th of a series about growing up in Marysville during the late 1930s and the 1940s written by Bill Boyd. Each article is a snapshot of the people, businesses and activities during that era as seen through the eyes of a young boy.
Boyd was born in Marysville in 1932, graduated from Marysville High School in 1950, and lived the greater part of his life here.
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Pheasant hunting
I have always thought that the ring-necked pheasant was a really beautiful bird. Their bright, iridescent colors, combined with their graceful lines and long tail feathers, make them really special. Of course, I am talking about the male pheasants. The females are pretty drab and nothing special to look at. That’s the way it is with a lot of birds – beautiful males, drab females. Just the opposite of the way it is with people.
During the 1930s, and well into the ‘40s, Union County was a pheasant hunter’s paradise. Frequently as you drove down a back road in the country, you would spot a few pheasants in the brush along the roadside. Or you might see one darting across the road in front of your car. As a result, when pheasant season opened in late fall, hunters from all over the state and beyond flocked to Union County.
On opening day, Ohio’s pheasant season began at sunrise. Well before that hour, cars and pickup trucks began parking along Marysville’s downtown streets as hunters filed into restaurants for a good breakfast before hitting the fields. I bet there was more bacon and eggs sold in Marysville on “opening day” than on any other day of the year.
A few of the hunters, not a lot but a few, used hunting dogs, which they left in the backseats of their cars while they ate breakfast, or in a cage in the back of their pickup trucks. I had a morning paper route, and I would stop and look at the dogs up close. I think they knew exactly what was going on, and they were anxious to get out in the fields.
There was a certain etiquette for pheasant hunters, and one of the cardinal rules was never to set foot in a farmer’s fields without getting permission first. Unfortunately, some hunters did not follow this rule. They might take their dog right into a field of unharvested soybeans. Or they might fire their shotguns too close to the farmhouse. As a result, Shuler’s Hardware Store on South Main Street did a pretty good business with their “No Hunting” signs. They were about two feet long, and farmers could put them on their fences. There were a number of farmers who posted the signs, but they did allow people they knew to hunt on their land. Some even allowed others who asked permission to hunt. Their signs were used primarily to keep out the hunters who did not ask permission.
I always thought it was interesting that Shuler’s not only sold the “No Hunting” signs, but they also sold a lot of shotgun shells to the hunters. I guess they were leveraging both sides during pheasant hunting season.
I started going hunting with my dad when I was pretty young, maybe 10 years old. I didn’t carry a gun, of course, but I would walk maybe 10 yards to his left or right and try to “kick up” a bird. I guess you could think of me as a two-legged hunting dog. My dad particularly liked to hunt along fencerows. Almost all farmers in those days kept cows and other livestock, so there were fencerows everywhere separating the fields. On each side of almost all the fences was an area filled with brush that provided cover for the pheasants. There were also a lot of split wood rail fences still standing, and their zigzag construction pattern made the brush on each side even wider. And the pheasants loved it.
According to Ohio law, you could only take male pheasants, and as I recall the limit was two. If my dad got a couple of birds, he would dress them, and my mother would dip the parts in some kind of batter and sauté them. That was one of my very favorite meals. We didn’t have it very often, but it was worth waiting for.
Over the years, the pheasant population in Union County decreased dramatically, to the point where I think it is almost nonexistent today. You can ask half a dozen experts why, and you’ll probably get as many different answers. They will cite a change in farming crops or methods, the use of herbicides, the disappearance of fencerows, the weather, or a variety of other things.
Whatever the cause, it would be good if they could pinpoint it so they might be able to reverse the trend. Maybe then they could bring back those beautiful birds, as well as those wonderful “opening days” … complete with the hunting dogs and the bacon and eggs. I think that would be nice for Marysville.
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(Those wishing to contact Bill Boyd can email him at bill@davidwboyd.com)