This photo is of my brother Lee Allen Reinhold. Most of you have not met him. I am blessed with great brothers. Yes, I nearly stated, "I 'was' blessed with great brothers, but they live on in Glory as well as my memories. Lyle and Lee were not just blood... they were dear friends. Comrades.
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We loved to work together and we loved to hunt and fish together. Activities, that not only built memories but also character and ethics. All of which were based upon a biblical foundation endowed to us by our parents.
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The story with this photo involved us three boys and our pastor's son. We had our own "Big Buck Contest". We all pitched together to purchase a very nice hunting knife that would go to the winner. My brother, Lee, took the challenge very seriously. We were not surprised. He had exhibited his hunting prowess on numerous occasions. A long story short... Lee won the contest. A very nice whitetail buck was the result of Lee's diligence. And yes, Lee got the knife. He claimed his deer with a .30-06 that belonged to Dad and was his main hunting rifle. We have always liked the "nought six" for hunting deer or pronghorn antelope. However, this is where the story begins to take a turn. As us boys grew older and more active in the field with rifle or fishing pole, we wondered why our Dad slowly stepped back from being the main one to "pull the trigger". We honestly thought there was something "a little bit wrong with him". But now I understand somewhat better the chapters of one's life, as well.
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A couple of years after this event, my two comrades died. Lyle and Lee left this journey on earth and I was the only brother left. I became the heir of the trophy knife. I eventually became the owner of the .30-06. But my most treasured inheritance from my sportsmen family are the memories and the life lessons along the way. Those that enter the field and fish the waters with dignity and heart felt ethics and understanding walk away with more satisfaction than just "killing something". That also defines the pleasure of those gathered by the fireplace or around the supper table with rewards of a successful hunt. The experiences and the memories reach right to the heart.
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You may wonder what has become of the trophy knives... the rifles... the stuff of life that has come to me. Well, I have given them to the next generation. They claimed them, and the stories that came with them, with gratitude. They continue the legacy of the hunt. As for me... I have stepped back... sort of like my Dad. And I smile... and sometimes shed a tear of thankfulness. And as for the memories... I hold them near and dear to my heart. And yes any time that I am able to share them with someone else of like mind... I certainly will. I have been blessed.