One of the last ones is gone.......
 

Just heard that one of the last real old time sportsmen in Southern Illinois, Joe Bob Marks, has passed away. I've been friends with Joe Bob since his nephew Dennis introduced us years ago, sadly Dennis is gone now too.

Joe Bob was absolutely the finest rifle shot, bluebill fisherman, and squirrel hunter that I'm aware of. He invented the famous "Lunker Lure" bass bait that's been sold all over the world, made duck calls, built his own "hunting car", and the list goes on.

He was one of those guys that, with very little formal education, could just do or make or repair anything. A constant reader, student of nature, master mushroom and ginseng hunter, and all around gentleman. Served his country during WW2, raised a fine family, and lived a life to be proud of.

A "character" is the only way I can describe him and that's not nearly enough. One of my fondest memories is a three day squirrel hunting camp that he, Dennis, and I made back in the early 90's. It was just one of those magic moments in time when the stars were just right, or the Red Gods were smiling, or whatever makes things like that happen. Perfect weather, clear skies, cool in the morning, no wind, without a mosquito in sight. And the squirrels, to say that they were thick doesn't say enough, they were literally everywhere. A heavy hickory nut crop in the Bay Creek Bottoms had apparently brought every grey bushytail from miles around and we were the only ones there to enjoy it.

He and Dennis were both rifle shooters, and both absolutely deadly with them. Joe Bob shot an old Winchester target grade bolt action he'd had built special in the 50's. He was that old squirrel hunter everybody talks about but apparently only knows by reputation, he literally wouldn't take a shot unless he could hit them in the head and he could do it near every time he tried.

I'll never forget walking back into camp the Saturday morning of that trip with a coat full of my own shotgun killed squirrels to find him already cooking breakfast. I could see his game bag hanging on a nearby tree and asked how he'd done. He said he didn't know, but that he came back to camp when his sack got too heavy to tote. I dumped it out and counted 17, every one a head shot. He then announced that if I'd drive his hunting car up a certain fire trail and stop at the deadfall that blocked the back end of it, I'd find three turkeys hanging from a sapling that he'd also killed with that Winchester rifle. I drove as directed and there they hung, he'd snuck up on them roosted and figured he'd might as well get the family Thanksgiving taken care of. All three were head shot of course. I can tell this tale now, he's past any game warden worrying him over such activities. I still smile when I think of it. He was a bit of an outlaw obviously, but none of his game ever went to waste.

He'd have been 90 years old this coming February. I didn't hear about it in time to attend his funeral it pains me to say.

He wasn't a Parker shooter so this has nothing to do with Parker Shotguns of course, but I just wanted to say something about my friend. Pardon me if somebody thinks it out of place.


DLH

a wonderful memorial im sure he would be pleased

Destry....Always enjoy reading about your exploits...especially those from Southern Illinois!! Sounds like he was one of the great ones. We were fortunate to know men like these when we were growing up...Thanks for sharing....Brad

Great story. Sounds like one of the very good one.
Thank you for sharing.

The turkey deal was really a wonder. He'd happened to spot them roosted up just before daylight as he was heading to his favorite stand of hickory. He always shot subsonic hollow points in his rifle and they were mighty quiet in those big woods. He said he figured they'd fly as soon as he shot the first one so he picked a big gobbler on the lowest limb. He laid him flat and the rest just sat, but started clucking hard and moving around. He picked out the next one up the tree and popped it, still they just sat there but got more nervous. They all finally busted when he knocked another one out further up the tree.

sorry about your friends passing but i m sure he will be pleased that by his storey you just told will be appreciated by him...he sure had to be a legend in his own time...i m glad i got to read this storey of his... charlie

Destry, that is a fitting tribute to one of the greats! I have had the good fortune of knowing a few. I was taught long range varmint shooting by a national champion benchrest shooter, now gone. Irwin Rowe. I was mentored in pigeon shooting by a guy who did it for a living. I have years of upland hunting memories with a retired heart surgeon. Yes, I hunted with a guy I called Doc. (sounds like a fictional character out of a gun-writers imagination) And I know, hunt with, and am good friends with a real life Major Peabody type character. (love em, even if others don't) He taught me to head-shoot squirrels, btw.
I can really appreciate what Joe Bob Marks meant to you.
Gods speed to your friend.

Thanks for the note and tribute. I got a call this afternoon that the family has been called in tonight for a very close friend of mine. He loved guns and at the last auction we attended he was bidding on an old Win. 97. He bid it off fairly cheap and I asked him later what he liked about it. He said, "It had some kind of bird on the bottom, looked like a pigeon." I took a look and he had bid off an original 97 pigeon grade for under $300.
He retired as a tree trimmer from the U.S. Park Service after 30 years, born and raised in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee, just a great old gentleman who talked if he liked you and said very little if he didn't. For some reason we hit it off and I have been fortunate to call him a friend for some time.
I mention this because one thing I have noticed is the friendship and the respect you guys show for each other, even when your discussions get a little heated, the respect never goes away. It is a pleasure to stay in touch with you through this forum. As Gene Hill said shortly before he passed, I believe to Michael McIntosh, "Enjoy all things, for the bullet with your name on it was fired a long time ago." Being a veteran of a number of years in the army, that statement really stayed with me.
I hope my friend makes it through the night so I can see him in the morning, even though the morphine may not let him know I am there. If this reminds you of someone who you miss or wish you had more time to see, give them a call tomorrow and just say Hello!
Thanks for listening, the words on this page are getting a little hard to read right now but that is how it goes some times. Time to get some sleep but just not yet, too many friends already gone home.
MSG Al Greeson. U. S. Army, Retired.