"I didn't think I would ever get that buck out of that big hole," the huntress said. "I don't think that I will ever kill another deer, because it is just too much hard work to get them out of the woods by myself. Besides that, I saw that big bear down there and I don't want to have another encounter with him. I don't care anything about being in the woods with that bear." With this statement, Nellie Mae Lindsey ended her hunting career that had spanned more than fifty years. Being a self-sufficient widow, she didn't care to have to ask anyone to help her out, so true to her words she never returned to the deer woods, even though she had a deep passion for hunting.
In her younger years, she had hunted squirrels with a .22 rifle, and one day she brought in a bunch of squirrels that she had killed. Her father, the late Lewis Thomas Davenport said "Nellie, you didn't head shoot these squirrels. You are supposed to shoot them in the head!" With that, the huntress picked up her old Remington 12A pump action .22 rifle and disappeared. When she showed up again later in the day, her hunting vest was bulging with squirrels, each with a single hole in their heads. That trend continued for the rest of her life.
Not only did Nellie hunt, but she loved to fish as well. She was a very good fisherman who rarely came home without some fish on her stringer, and often she brought in some big ones. She particularly liked to catch big catfish, so it was not unusual for her to fish with minnows, crawdads, night crawlers, liver, shrimp, catalpa worms, cut bait and anything else that she thought might entice a big cat.
The love of hunting and fishing had been passed down to her from her mother and father. She in turn passed them along to her family. Some of my earliest memories are of fishing with my Aunt Nellie, and hunting with her son Rayburn. Aunt Nellie would let me tag along, but she also understood that I would always want to keep every fish that we caught. We would look at the beautiful colors of the bluegill, listen to the catfish talk while we put them on the stringer, cut the rocks out of the heads of the drum which we caught, and admire the power of a big smallmouth bass fighting in the river current. Nellie would put water in a minnow bucket, and put the small fish in them. When she would catch me not looking, she would turn the bucket over to let the little ones go.
My earliest memories of going to church were with Aunt Nellie. She was a Sunday school teacher who helped instill the love and respect of the Lord and His creation in me. That passion still burns inside me today as I recall some of my most fond childhood memories that Aunt Nellie helped to create.
When she quit hunting, she started bowling. The competitive spirit that motivated her to become an excellent marksman with her rifle carried over into her bowling. It was not unusual for her to rack up a 200+ game when bowling with her team, and she won many awards doing so.
It was with great sadness that our family said "Good Bye" to Aunt Nellie. She had fought a good fight against the sickness that eventually took her life at the age of 86. She was a remarkable woman who had an impact on those around her. I, for one, will always be grateful for her tender, patient guiding hand as she gently helped create in me a love for hunting, fishing, and going to church. I hope that I never reach a point in my life where I can no longer hear her voice in my mind as she says "Well, there's lil' ole Tommy. You wanna go fishing today?"
