Thoughts on state’s new supervision rules for young hunters

I don’t know how the new hunting rules got past me. I guess because I don’t hunt as much as I once did, I had no idea there was a new law that required all hunters under 21 to be under direct supervision of a person older than 21. The law spelled out that the supervisor had to be no more than 30 yards away with the young hunter in direct line of sight.

Fortunately, others were aware of the new law, took it to court and won, sort of.  Kent County judge Reneta L. Green-Streett found that persons between the ages of 18 and 21 may hunt without supervision. On Aug. 30, the Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Control put out a press release explaining in detail the court case and how it will affect the hunting seasons as of Sept. 1.

I am certainly glad there was no such law when I was growing up or when my two sons were young hunters. I began target practice with my Red Ryder BB gun at a very young age. I bought it with money I made selling blackberries I picked from the fields behind my home in Claymont. It would be difficult to do that now since I-495 runs through where that field once grew.

My first real gun was a Remington .22 single-shot bolt-action rifle. I bought that from Richerson Variety Store on the corner of Philadelphia Pike and Commonwealth Avenue. I bought all the .22 long-ifle bullets I wanted from Buffington’s store, also on Philadelphia Pike. Buffington’s also sold Outdoor Life, Field and Stream and Playboy. I had no idea at the time I would end up writing for two out of the three of those publications.

This was in the 1950s when raw sewage ran directly into the Delaware River. This was prime feeding ground for rats, and if you went down to the sewage outflow at dusk, you had a good chance of shooting a couple of fat rodents. They also inhabited the marsh. I got off a few shots there as well.

I am not sure when my stepfather gifted me his Winchester Model 12 Pump 12-gauge shotgun. I know I was too young for a 12-gauge, which is why I still flinch when I shoot. I remember dad, Pop and I went out behind the house and took turns firing the gun. Then dad said it was mine to use for hunting. I could hardly wait for rabbit season!

In those days, I was still too young to drive, so I would walk home from school, go in the cellar door, drop off my school stuff, put on my hunting stuff, go back outside, walk across the dirt road and start hunting rabbits. Once I turned 16, my hunting grounds expanded. I would take my shotgun to school in my 1951 Plymouth two-door hardtop so I could hunt squirrels in the woods off Darley Road right after school. Try that today and you would be in jail.

Both of my boys, Ric and Roger, grew up hunting. I took them to my goose pit on Snow Farm in Smyrna long before they were old enough to shoot, and they had a firearms safety class in elementary school. I gave them Remington 870 12-gauge shotguns for Christmas, and they both killed deer before they were out of high school.

On one New Year’s Eve Day when we lived in Virginia Beach, Ric and Roger borrowed my car and drove over to Accomack County to hunt deer on Dave Elliott’s farm. They returned in the afternoon with two deer in the trunk, neither of which had been field dressed. They said they had to get ready to go out that night and disappeared, leaving me to field dress and butcher both deer, which I did before midnight.

I have met people who are actually afraid of guns. When you tell them you are a hunter, they recoil like you have the plague. They can’t believe you have guns and kids in the same house. I have had guns and kids – and now grandkids – in the same house for more than 50 years, and because I know how to take care of both, no accidents have occurred.

I am sure the people who supported the new law meant well, but what they have done is taken away the rights of young people to hunt. Finding someone over 21 to supervise a 14-year-old hunter is all but impossible, so there goes his or her right to hunt.