DUCKS, DUCKS, AND MORE DUCKS
Looking back, there were seasons in life when simply getting through the week required determination, creativity, and a willingness to do whatever honest work came our way. One of those seasons happened during my final year of college, shortly before the journey that would eventually lead to the stories found in Before We Were Heroes: Southern Fires.
A Difficult Season
I was in my last year of college when our oldest son, Seth, was born.
At the time, Peggy was working, but company policy required every expectant mother to stop working six weeks before the baby’s due date and remain off work for six weeks afterward. None of those twelve weeks came with pay. Maternity leave, as we know it today, simply didn’t exist.
By the time Seth arrived, we were struggling financially.
We seriously discussed whether I should leave college for a semester, find full-time work, and return once we were in a better financial position. Graduation, however, was only six months away. After many conversations, we decided that finishing school offered the best chance for a better future.
So we kept going.
A Humbling Experience
Even after making that decision, money remained extremely tight.
For the first and only time in our lives, we applied for food stamps. We relied on that assistance for only about four weeks, but accepting it was difficult for me.
I was so embarrassed that I shopped at only one grocery store, the same store where we had traded since we were married. The owner knew us personally, and even then I waited until just before closing to do our shopping.
One evening, while I was checking out, another customer began talking with the owner about health insurance. Whether he noticed the food stamps or simply overheard our conversation, I don’t know.
To make his point about being self-insured, he pulled out two one-thousand-dollar bills and held them up long enough for everyone to notice. Then he launched into a conversation about people who depended on public assistance, suggesting they should work instead of expecting taxpayers to support them.
What he didn’t know was that I was already working every Saturday and every weekday after classes for a consulting forester while carrying a full schedule of demanding senior-level forestry courses, including Calculus III.
He saw only a moment.
He didn’t know the story behind it.
An Unexpected Opportunity
At the time, we lived in a trailer park outside Monticello.
A duck hunting club kept a couple of trailers there during hunting season. When the hunters learned we were struggling, they offered us an opportunity.
If we would clean their ducks, they would pay us fifty cents for each one. They even supplied the freezer paper and tape needed to package them.
That was the beginning of our very short but unforgettable duck cleaning business.
Long Days and Even Longer Nights
My days quickly settled into a demanding routine.
I attended college during the day, then reported to work with the consulting forester after classes and every Saturday. My assignments usually involved marking timber for harvest or cruising forest tracts to estimate timber volume for management plans.
The company paid me two dollars an hour and even allowed me to take the work truck home and to school so I could spend more time working in the woods instead of driving back and forth.
Most evenings I didn’t get home until after dark.
Peggy and I would eat dinner, and I would study until the hunters arrived, usually around nine o’clock at night.
Then our second job began.
Cleaning Ducks for a Better Tomorrow
Anyone who has ever cleaned ducks knows it isn’t pleasant work.
The process involved plucking feathers, removing the internal organs, pulling countless pin feathers, and then singeing the remaining feathers from the skin.
Some ducks were easier than others, but none of them were enjoyable.
While we worked, Seth slept in his room. We kept the window open so we could hear him if he woke up crying.
After each duck was cleaned, we wrapped it carefully and stored it in our freezer until the hunters returned. When they picked up their processed ducks, they usually paid us for the work and often left a couple behind for us to keep.
Those extra ducks became an important part of our meals that winter.
Hard Work That Made a Difference
By the end of duck season, we had earned more than two hundred dollars cleaning ducks.
For us, that money meant far more than the number itself.
It allowed us to stop using food stamps. It helped us make it until Peggy could return to work. Most importantly, it allowed me to stay in school and graduate on time.
That graduation eventually led us to Hardy, Arkansas, where many of the experiences shared in Before We Were Heroes: Southern Fires by Bill Beebe would later begin.
Looking back, those long nights taught us that honest work no matter how difficult can open the door to better days.
One Promise We Kept
Although the duck cleaning business helped us through one of the hardest seasons of our lives, Peggy and I reached one final agreement when it was over.
We would close the business…
…and never, ever clean another duck for as long as we lived.
Sometimes the jobs we remember most aren’t the ones we planned to have. They’re the ones that carried us through when we needed them most.