6 minute read
Memoirs That Made Me Who I Am
Over the next 11 months we will be sharing the Memoirs That Made Me Who I Am. These are compiled stories written about the life of a former Gallup resident Eugene Leone.
Before his passing, he wrote, “It is with great delight that I share these stories from my heart, which have been inside for many years. My desire is that the reader would be able to go back to a time that was very real and may have been lost through the years.
Chapter Three Lessons Learned
WWell now, since this narrative has become somewhat morose, it seems a good time to interject a scary but amusing segment of my earlier adventures. My grandfather, Dominic Leone, and his esteemed wife, Enriquetta were parents of the following brood: Number one, Raymond, the oldest son, a self-taught plumber and a communist who believed that almost everything that Americans ate are poisonous. Number two was Antonio (Tony) my father. Number three was Oliver, the only intellectual who went on to become a college certified meteorologist. Then came Virginia, the only girl who believed that she knew just about
everything in the world worth knowing and would gladly expound at length. And finally, Video, (don’t ask me about the derivation of his name), was the youngest son.
My Dad took Video and me hunting and inspired our ability to learn, especially how to find our way back to camp. After Video and I got lost before lunchtime one trip, the elders and mentors decided that the best approach would be to proceed only within sight of our guides following two parallel ridges. What none of us knew was that these ridges in turn also branched off.
Each now followed its own ridge and was separated from each other early on. Late in the day, I knew I was separated from all the others and was a long way from camp. So, there was no chance of getting back that night. I was looking for a place with lots of dry fallen branches to keep a bonfire going all night. So, as I proceeded through a break in the trees, I was astonished to be standing on the edge of a very large and deep canyon. My first thought was “Where the hell did this humongous ditch come from?” But I was getting cold, so I took another closer look.
And saw what appeared to be old automobile tracks; that got my attention immediately and I started down the rather steep rocky canyon. When I reached the bottom, I was very disappointed to see that the tracks appeared to be several months, if not a year older. Just then, I perceived some motion from the corner of my eyes, and incredibly who should appear walking toward me was my lost hunting partner, Video. He was going south, and I was going north, the camp was to the east! I said to him, “Where the hell are you going?” He answered, “back to camp, where else would I go?” I replied, “that’s damn funny because I was going there too, in the opposite direction!” We were both too tired and now too cold to argue, so we gathered a lot of dry tree limbs and got the fire going. Soon we both heard the sound of the motor, a beat-up old pick-up. We were elated to see it came to a stop near our bonfire. The driver was young cattleman with his wife and very young baby. He said” where is your camp?” We sheepishly confessed that we really didn’t know. He grinned and asked us to describe the surroundings. He quickly said, “I know where it is and it’s about 20 miles from here.” “How in the hell did you get way out here?” When we didn’t reply he said, “no matter I’ll tell you how to get back to your camp.” With that, his wonderful, gracious, and generous wife said, “Henry, you get out of this truck now, and clear a place for these men to ride while you take them back to their camp.” Bless her heart: she was our best friend.
When we arrived back at camp, my Dad had heard the truck coming. He knew what stupid, cold, thirsty, hungry and tired cargo it held and he first compensated our benefactors handsomely and thanked them as they drove off. He then turned to us, and to our relief said simply, “You two eat and go to sleep; we will talk tomorrow.” We were glad to hear that, and quickly found food prepared for us, which we devoured. We then crawled into our sleeping bags, without undressing and we were asleep in minutes. We didn’t go to sleep, but rather fell into a coma.
The next morning, “the real hunters” were gone so we decided to stay in a camp and prepare to go home. When “the hunters” did come in Video looked at me, and I at him, and thought, here is when we get it! My Dad looked at both of us and asked simply, “did you learn anything?” When we said “yes”, he left it at that. I love that man.
(*Editor’s Note: The next portion of the story is missing a prelude to what is described here, and to the reader, the author would encourage you to use your imagination.)
After we had loaded the two pickups, we headed for the only exit from this official game reserve. Rangers who check for infractions of the law manned it. They were quite surprised to see the mountain lion as we were leaving. We were the first to get a mountain lion without the aid of dogs. The dogs are used to teaching, chasing a lion unit it is exhausted and goes up a tree to survive, whereupon the numerous, the heroic and brave hunters shoot it down.
When we got home, news of our ‘conquest” spread. It came to the attention of the photographer from the local newspaper; he asked us to pose with the “trophy.” As I did so I felt compelled to look at the face of this beautiful animal, and it occurred to me that this puma, this cougar, the mountain lion, was and is to me the beautiful of all God’s creatures. Who was I to kill it? It remains of the great regrets of my life, and I quit hunting ever since.
Reprinted with permission by the Southwest Indian Foundation
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