One of the last ones is gone.......

[MarketHunter]

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