I'm not often moved to write about something like this, but in this case I feel moved to do so. This is about a a friend and a hunter who will be missed. I first met Howard years ago while I was working at a prominent gun shop in Baton Rouge, La. With my military, law enforcement and having trained under the likes of Jeff Cooper back in the day I was the guy to see if in the market for a custom 1911. At the time Howard had a son (if I remember correctly) going to LSU and stopped in to see what we had available. We chatted at length about this maker versus that maker and started what would become a a great friendship.
Howard started a construction company in his early years and worked like a mule to build it up to what it later became. Business was good and because of all that hard work it payed off. It finally came time to retire and hand the business off. Being the sportsman he was he decided to spend his time hunting the world and his bride gave him her blessings. Howard lived the hunting dream so many of us wish we could. From Red Stag in New Zealand to Himalayan Blue Sheep and almost all in between, Howard hunted them all. Never taking any trip for granted. Whether looking over grand vistas from a mountain top to peering through dark shadows in the jess, Howard respected the game he hunted and enjoyed the experience to the fullest.
At this stage of the tale, I had made a couple of trips to Namibia and amongst his many hunting trips Howard had been to various countries in Africa hunting twice as many times as I had. We started talking about making a hunt together in the near future. He laughingly related that 5 years before he was hunting a concession near the Selous for buffalo. His PH put him on a grand old Dugga Boy. I think Howard was shooting a .416 Remington. As things sometimes happens, at the shot, the only reaction from the bull was a serious case of irritation at this hunter and came for him! At the 4th shot the bull dropped 12 foot off the muzzle and a 5th between the shoulders finished the drama. I asked him if it was exhilarating. He kinda looked off into the distance and slipped into a thousand yard stare. Momentarily he looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and replied, Rick, I don't know about that but the boys in the laundry tent had a chance to see if their detergent would get stains out of cotton.
We continued to talk about hunting together over the next couple of years. Something always came up so that I or him couldn't make it that year but we kept planning.
The Covid problem didn't help out things either. So that brings this tale to October of last year. I started making plans to go back to Namibia in 2023. Two close friends booked to go with me and of course Howard came to mind. Maybe this would be the year it all came to pass? I sent him a text message outlining the trip and extended the invitation to go along. Several hours later I received a reply from his wife. Howard had passed away suddenly in January. He had started feeling bad and went to his doctor. He was terminal and less than 3 weeks later passed away. His wife was sorry for not letting me know but she was still getting over the shock herself. I expressed my condolences and told her on this next hunt that I would hoist a sundowner in his memory and dedicate the trip in his memory. She said Howard would like that.
So my friend Howard, come May I'll be back in Namibia. And good to my word I'll hoist one for you. When my time comes to pay the ferryman and cross that river, I hope to see a fire burning in the distance. On walking up to it I hope to see you and a couple of other friends setting around the fire and hear the invitation to have a seat and catch up on old times. Rest easy and peaceful old friend, we'll meet again.
