Rich Anderson
08-20-2011, 09:10 PM
The Parker left Meridian Connecticut in 1931. It was a simple gun, a working mans gun. There was no fancy engraveing or pretty wood she was a VH 20 with 28 inch bbls. A gun meant for the fields and coverts, certainly no showpiece. Times were tough in 31 and Parker produced less than 300 guns that year.
The Gentleman lived in South Carolina. He came from a large family, 15 in all. They made their living off the land in and amongst the Long Leaf Pine, Bluestem Grasses and cotton fields. The gentleman asked for nothing but the ability to make an honest living and he and his immediate family were spread out over three counties. He stood his ground when confronted and didn't run or slink away. He had manners and class.
Although from different parts of the country both existed in a time when a man was proud to put his name on something he created, something that would stand the test of time. A time when a deal was sealed with a handshake, when the neighboors all chipped in to get the Cotton crop harvested, when if you wanted to dig a pond so the Mallards would have a place to raise their family and the kids had a place to swim an Enviromental Impact Statement wasn't required. A knock on a farm door got you permission to hunt and a few dressed birds given back to the landowner at the end of the day assured a return visit.
The Parker and The Gentleman had a common friend a Mr. James E. White of Jackson, Michigan. Mr. White was a stockbroke by trade as it was the only job he could think of that didn't require an 8 to 5 schedule every day, especially in the fall. He was known to enjoy the fruits of bootleg wiskey and games of chance. There was more than one occasion when the family lived on what was earned from a poker table. He would tell his daughter whom he called Squirt "If you can play cards and come away with what you started with than you had a good time and it didn't cost anything".
It was during a waterfowl hunt to Maryland's Eastern Shore when the Parker and James first met. He had stopped into a local hardware store to get some more 10ga shells for his L.C. Smith and saw her on the rack. The clerk stated the only drawback was it didn't have ejectors whence Mr. White replied "sure it does there your thumb and forfinger". "If a man can put the shells into it he can damn sure take em out".
Later that fall James and the Parker headed to South Carolina to meet with The Gentleman one B.W. Quail. Mr. White wouldn't shoot a covey down so there were always more brood stock for next year. After all Mr. Bob was a gentelman and deserved respect.
The Parkers still exist to instill both pleasure and a taste of nostalgia, Mr. White's decendants still enjoy a day afield with a fine double and a good pointer but the Gentelman is hanging by a thread in most of his old haunts.
I hope the three of us don't fall into the abyss of progress.
The Gentleman lived in South Carolina. He came from a large family, 15 in all. They made their living off the land in and amongst the Long Leaf Pine, Bluestem Grasses and cotton fields. The gentleman asked for nothing but the ability to make an honest living and he and his immediate family were spread out over three counties. He stood his ground when confronted and didn't run or slink away. He had manners and class.
Although from different parts of the country both existed in a time when a man was proud to put his name on something he created, something that would stand the test of time. A time when a deal was sealed with a handshake, when the neighboors all chipped in to get the Cotton crop harvested, when if you wanted to dig a pond so the Mallards would have a place to raise their family and the kids had a place to swim an Enviromental Impact Statement wasn't required. A knock on a farm door got you permission to hunt and a few dressed birds given back to the landowner at the end of the day assured a return visit.
The Parker and The Gentleman had a common friend a Mr. James E. White of Jackson, Michigan. Mr. White was a stockbroke by trade as it was the only job he could think of that didn't require an 8 to 5 schedule every day, especially in the fall. He was known to enjoy the fruits of bootleg wiskey and games of chance. There was more than one occasion when the family lived on what was earned from a poker table. He would tell his daughter whom he called Squirt "If you can play cards and come away with what you started with than you had a good time and it didn't cost anything".
It was during a waterfowl hunt to Maryland's Eastern Shore when the Parker and James first met. He had stopped into a local hardware store to get some more 10ga shells for his L.C. Smith and saw her on the rack. The clerk stated the only drawback was it didn't have ejectors whence Mr. White replied "sure it does there your thumb and forfinger". "If a man can put the shells into it he can damn sure take em out".
Later that fall James and the Parker headed to South Carolina to meet with The Gentleman one B.W. Quail. Mr. White wouldn't shoot a covey down so there were always more brood stock for next year. After all Mr. Bob was a gentelman and deserved respect.
The Parkers still exist to instill both pleasure and a taste of nostalgia, Mr. White's decendants still enjoy a day afield with a fine double and a good pointer but the Gentelman is hanging by a thread in most of his old haunts.
I hope the three of us don't fall into the abyss of progress.