Lady and the Tramp: A Cajun Hunting Tale
The vast majority of outdoorsman can trace their love for the outdoors through their fathers, uncles, and grandfathers. In most instances it’s a patriarchal line, but in some cases, there can be a surprising matriarchal link. I certainly count myself amongst the outdoorsmen influenced by their father; however, I’d be remiss to say my grandmother did not also influence my love for the outdoors. Grandma did not join us in the duck blind or cast a line for Speckled Trout, but her upbringing and the influence it bestowed upon me certainly had its effect.
My grandmother, Krese Triche grew up in a sharecropper family and truly lived off the land that was cultivated by her family. She picked cotton, harvested fruits and vegetables, butchered chickens, and chased birds from her crops with a crack-barreled shotgun and paper shotgun shells. This was daily life for her as a child, coming of age, in southeastern Louisiana. She was dirt poor and helped raise her 14 brothers and sisters in a time when the country was brought to its knees in the years following the Great Depression.
My family’s story began with a young hunter and a dog named Tramp. Grandpa John was hunting one afternoon in the bayous of southeast Louisiana when his trusty dog Tramp went missing. In his search for Tramp he came upon a young woman who befriended the missing pup. There on the porch was Tramp and a beautiful young woman named Krese. My grandfather spent the next few months visiting this woman and fostered a beautiful relationship that would go on to spawn three generations of outdoorsmen.
At 16 years old Krese married my grandfather, who was himself a great outdoorsmen that spent his youth trapping for furs, fishing, and hunting game for his family’s dinner table. They moved to New Orleans to pursue a better life for their children, but never fully abandoned the life they knew as children. They built a home in, what was back then, a rural area of Marrero, LA, a suburb of New Orleans, and raised their four children. Grandpa maintained a camp they could visit to get a taste of the old days, and the family was able to hold on to the roots of the past we still hold dear.
My childhood home had two pecan trees in the backyard, and with those trees came a constant onslaught of squirrels storing nuts for the winter. My cousin and I would sit under the trees with our pellet guns waiting for the telltale sign of squirrels munching away at pecans. The shavings of their feast would rain down and we could easily locate their position. This was easy pickings and resulted in many successful “hunts” with our pellet guns. As wonderful as those memories are what sticks with me the most is the time my grandmother took my cousin’s Benjamin pellet gun in her hands and shot a squirrel running along a pecan branch. In an instant she became the coolest grandma I could imagine. Prior to this moment I always knew she was a tough gal, but to see her become one of “the boys” was a sight to behold. Shortly after, she told us of her childhood and how she would shoot paper shotgun shells at birds to scare them away from their crops. I was blown away that my sweet, old grandma was a killer!
Thinking back grandma was always a tough old bird. She would sit with me and my cousin for hours on the back porch while we chased squirrels in the backyard. When the figs and cooking pears came in, she would spend her days harvesting the fruit so dad could make preserves. I now realize grandma was just passing down the traditions she learned as a child with the hopes we would carry them into our future generations. I believe that is our responsibility as stewards of the next generation of outdoorsmen and women, to carry on the teachings and beliefs of those before us. How can we respect and nurture the resources we have without an understanding of those who came before us?
Krese passed away on Easter Sunday this year and I know for a fact she would be thrilled to know my daughter will follow in her footsteps and be a hunting, fishing, gardening, and cooking machine who loves her family and cherishes the resources our beautiful planet provides. As I hold my daughter in my arms and look over our vegetable garden, I know our family is moving in the right direction. We love you grandma, and you can rest in peace knowing we will carry on the tradition of hunting that sowed the seeds of our family.
-Kevin Johansen, Fall Obsession Pro Staff