By Leroy M. Allen

October 22-25, my brother Ronny and I (Leroy) traveled to Madrid Iowa to hunt pheasant with a unique group of hunters. They came from California, Missouri, Georgia, Mississippi, Illinois and Alabama—Ronny and I were the Alabama connection. This group was composed of medical doctors, college professors, surgeons, plant directors, teachers, policemen, and intellectuals of all sorts.

Upon our arrival, we were greeted by a very warm and jolly group of gentlemen, some slightly jollier than the others because it was apparent that the old spirits bottle had been hit hard! Fish was frying, venison summer sausage, fresh pork skins, pickeled tomatoes, parched peanuts, and many other home-prepared and home-cooked meals were set out to be sampled by all.

During the course of the evening meal, we were all engaged in conversation that varied from football, baseball (the World Series was on the tube), hunting, fishing, farming, politics, etc. I discovered that many were in Greek organizations, and so the question was asked, “What Greek organizations were we affiliated with?” My immediate response was that we were in the secret fraternity called The Hi Fi Club.” Eyebrows were raised around the room and then Dr. Charles Cooper M.D. asked the question, “What is ‘Hi Fi’.” Ronny’s response was “five up-five down!” (Five pheasants up—five pheasant down!) I wish that all of you guys could have been there to see the expression on these mid-western hunters’faces! We got ribbed all night long about how they were going to beat our pants off the next morning!

Later that evening we were taken to a second lodge because the first lodge was full. We unpacked and settled in after a good hot shower. I believe that some of the older hunters never went to bed because when my alarm clock went off, I heard the same voices laughing and talking that morning that were going 90 miles an hour the night before!

We quickly got dressed and were driven to another facility where a very delicious breakfast was waiting for 42 hungry hunters. After breakfast we went over some very necessary safety rules, and were also given a brief summary of the organization’s history. We learned that there had been many articles and even a documentary filmed about this wonderful group of hunters. A few years ago, Miss Nebraska hunted with the Pheasant Hunters of America!” I wonder how many birds were missed that year! Next, we loaded up and headed to the happy hunting grounds.

The fields were full of grain as far as they eye could see, and the birds were plentiful. On the first drive I was asked to be the rolling blocker (This hunter walks 20-25 yards to the far right and left of the field, to intercept any birds that may try to take early flight.) Ronny was put on the second row over from me. As fate would have it, the first bird that got up Ronny nailed it. The second bird got up and flew high and to my right and I took it down also. That’s when the hunters that had ribbed us the night before began to believe that those boys from Alabama may be able to shoot after all.

This pattern continued for the rest of the day. Soon there were chants from our northern friends—“Hi Fi.” Five up—Five down! In one instance, Ronny shot a double so quick that the hunter beside him asked if he would give him time to take his safety off! As you can see, we convinced the fellows that the boys from Alabam could indeed shoot. Believe it or not, we both missed our ninth bird. No one in the group could believe it! “Alabama missed,” is all you could hear. Alabama missed!!
The next day, the pheasant didn’t cooperate as well as they did the day before. We got our share but not what we had hoped for.

God has truly blessed Ronny and me with two memorable pheasant hunts that some hunters only dream about. But this hunt (the third one) was even more special because all of the hunters were African American. These grandfathers, sons, grandkids and friends have been doing this for 35 years—rain, sleet, snow, nor ice has not stopped them from gathering each year in the month of October to hunt pheasant. I pray that we will be invited back next year because we truly had a ball.
My thanks to President Steve, Dr. Cooper, Alan, Uncle Fess, William, T.J. and the rest of the crew for making my brother and me so very welcome.

Pheasant Hunters of America: you bet! 35 years and counting!