Jimmy Helps Check the Traps
When we were growing up, my brother David’s best friend in the entire world was a young man named Jimmy. (My family and I always called our brother “Dave,” or called him by his nickname, which was “George”). Jimmy was, and is, a great guy. He was tough, interesting, adventurous, and fun to be with. He visited with us often and we always enjoyed his company. There was never a dull moment when he was around. Jimmy had one very special trait; more so than anyone I had ever known in my life. He was just clumsy. He was really clumsy. It seemed as if he was always tripping, falling down, having a bicycle wreck, or getting hurt in oftentimes the most unique way.
We never had a telephone in our house until the late 1960’s, and, as hard as it is to believe now, it was hardly ever used. On one of the rare occasions when it did ring, there was a pretty good chance it was Jimmy’s mother calling our mother and telling her about Jimmy’s latest accident or fiasco.
My brother Dave always loved anything to do with the outdoors. He still does. At a very young age he began to hunt, fish, and trap. Our Uncle Henry Hopkins taught Dave how to trap, and Dave became quite adept at it. Although I loved the outdoors, Dave loved it more. I was always more interested in sports. Sometimes when Dave would go check on his traps, I would go with him. I always found it to be very interesting, but I never did do any trapping on my own.
Every winter Dave would begin to run his traps. He was never a professional but was able to trap quite a few animals each winter. He would skin the animals he had caught in his traps and place their hides on wooden boards in the smokehouse. After letting them dry for a few weeks, he would gather all these hides, put them into a box, and send them off to sell them. They would mail him back a check for the hides. Sometimes the hides sold well, while other times they didn’t bring too much. Regardless, he always enjoyed his payoff for his long winter’s work.
One very snowy and cold winter’s day a long time ago, Jimmy was visiting with us at our house. Dave decided he needed to go check on his traps. Jimmy and I decided we wanted to tag along. We ventured out into the frozen landscape. The snowfall on the ground was quite heavy and deep, and it was very cold outside. We were dressed warmly and were enjoying being outside on this beautiful, but cold, wintry day.
We stopped on the edge of a steep hill. There, at the bottom of the hill, was a little creek. Dave had a trap set in that little creek and he needed to go down and check on its status. Dave realized the hill was too steep and slippery for Jimmy to navigate without falling, so he instructed Jimmy to wait for us on top of the hill. Dave and I would go check the trap and return for Jimmy in just a few minutes. Jimmy readily agreed, knowing full well he certainly would fall if he headed over the hill
David and I managed to get down the slippery slope. There, we found the trap. It had been thrown, but there was nothing in it. David began to re-set the trap while I looked on. About that time, we heard a loud scream that sounded like “Yiiiii!” We looked up and saw Jimmy, tumbling and sliding down the snowy hillside. As he began to pick up speed, Jimmy reached out to grab a bush to help him stop his slide. He wasn’t able to hang onto it and continued his trajectory down the mountainside.
He landed on the ice-covered little creek at the bottom of the hill. Dave and I began to run towards him, and as we did, we immediately heard a crack, crack, crack sound as the ice began to break. The ice broke through and Jimmy fell into the little creek. Dave and I hustled up to Jimmy and helped him get out of this freezing water. The creek wasn’t deep but was deep enough for Jimmy to be soaked. Jimmy raised his hand, and there, we saw in the middle of his palm, a red honey locust thorn about 2 inches long, stuck into his hand. This came from the bush Jimmy had tried to grab on his way down the hill. Dave pulled the thorn out of Jimmy’s wet hand and the blood began to curdle out, nearly freezing as soon as it hit the frozen air.
Dave asked, “What happened Jimmy?” He replied, “I think I just lost my balance.” We weren’t surprised he had fallen, but we still wonder to this day how it happened. We had left him on a level place and told him not to move, but he fell anyway.
We knew we had to get Jimmy back to the house pretty quickly, because if not, he would freeze. I believe Dave took off his coat and wrapped it around Jimmy, and we made our way back home. It was a long walk back to the house and the deep and slippery snow made the journey longer. We finally got back home. Jimmy was nearly frozen, and his clothing was freezing around him. We got into the house and made our way to the fuel oil stove. Mom was at home and we all tried to take Jimmy’s clothes off, but they were too frozen. We had to let him stand there, stiff as a board, propped up by the stove, until his clothes unthawed. Jimmy just stood there shivering, and as the frozen blood on his hand thawed out, his hand began to bleed again. Mom gave him something hot to drink, and after a bit, we were able to get him undressed and into some dry clothing. I believe that was the last time Jimmy ever went with Dave to check the traps.
