The "Pigeon Shooting at Hal's" Story

It was an ordinary day. Just got back from the IA picnic at Hal's house near Lititz. The IA stand for Industrial Arts and is the subject I taught in high school for over 30 years. In the spring of most every year we have a picnic, usually on the last official day of school. The current teachers as well as the retired teachers get together to celebrate the end of another school year and to see friends that we may not have seen since last year. We try to move the picnic from one house to another, if possible, so one person doesn't have the chore of preparation and clean-up every year. Tonight we traveled to Hal's house in Lititz. A few of the IA guys built Hal's house for him a couple of years ago. Single home on a couple acres of ground, right across from an Amish farmer. If you are not familiar with the Amish, they do not believe in being attached to the outside world. Worldly things are frowned upon in the Bible, they say. So, no electricity and no indoor plumbing! Hal has made friends with his neighbor and tells us about how he farms and what he does different than most farmers. He also told us that we were going to go over to the farmer's field and shoot some pigeons; the clay variety. we grabbed his 12 gauge double-barrel, a box of clay pigeons, and a sling that we would use to "throw" the clay pigeons into the air so we could shoot them. This was something that I had never done before. I coached the high school rifle team for years, but that was shooting a 22 gauge single shot rifle at a target on a range. Should be fun, I thought. And, it was. Until it was my turn. I loaded two shells into the chambers of the shotgun, placed it against my shoulder, put my cheek against the stock, looked down the barrel, and yelled that I was ready. Someone launched a pigeon and I caught it in my sight and pulled the trigger. Pop! The clay pigeon exploded! "Good shot," everyone yelled. Then I tasted the blood. Shot again with the same results, and then more blood. The kick from the gun against my cheek had opened a couple of nice cuts on the inside of my cheek. And hurt quite a bit. Two shots was all I took that night. Too bad we didn't do that after I had eaten, since my mouth hurt so bad that I had a hard time eating the picnic meal that everyone had brought to the party. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.