Falk, I always knew that you were a man of discerning taste and keen intelligence. A Jeffery
Mity-Mag Classic was the sixth bow that I was fortunate enough to glom onto. I ran across it at an outdoor show in Chantilly, VA, and no, I don't remember the day. Or the year! I would have to root around considerably to come up with the receipt or other documents.
I had never heard of Jeffery archery. I had been so far out of the loop, that I had never seen wood lams under clear glass before. It was as beautiful to me as my first glimpse of a horse. The name of the man selling it was vaguely familiar. I had my doubts, but was so enthralled with the bow, a shaky 47# at 28" between my eager hands, that I saved the question for later as to why the name Howard Hill sounded familiar. I could work into the weight, I figured. Now...how to pay for it!
By delaying a payment to my husband, I could do it. It took two checks. One was a deposit, and after a "zebra conference" and a showing of the bow to Mockingbird, I wrote another check for the balance. I strutted through the arena for the rest of the evening, checking out other booths (JD from PA was there, I remember) and generally having eyes only for my new bow.
I visited Howard down in Warrenton once after that, to buy arrows and try out another bow. I ran into him again at the BBTC a couple of times, always thanking him for introducing me to this bow. I learned, did research, found out that Howard Hill was really a sleeping legend, and that this man had the fortune to carry the same name. And that Owen Jeffery was much more important in my life than I had ever realized.
The bow gave me a purpose, as I was hunting already and now I had the bow that I wanted to bring home meat with. I ran into a knapper at Baltimore shortly after buying the bow. I was starting to REALLY make arrows at the time, and I watched Ed Wentzler do his demo on the grass.
I cracked a joke, and he used it as an excuse to give me the arrowhead he was making. He said he needed to "pay" me for the right to use the joke again. He asked the weight head I was using, and finally presented me with a head about 2 grains lighter. He made a ceremony of it, and I had to promise to hunt with it.
Oh,
pleeeeze don't throw me into that br'ar patch!
Over the years, I bought more heads from Ed, and expanded my arsenal.
The fourth year I carried that head, on my homemade arrow, I took my first bowkill. I was stillhunting, and took a doe fawn. It was a beautiful morning, it happened as though scripted. I made sure she was dead, and raised the bow to the early morning rays of the sun. Energy was flowing all different ways. I cried, I laughed, I said thanks to the many. The drag to camp was light and joyful. I was full of a calm knowing that I was part of the Whole, that many circles had converged at this one point to make it all happen and tell me so.
It started to rain a little as I got to camp, but I took some pictures. I had to. This is me and Ashley. My broken arrow is in my hand. The follow-up arrow, sans head, is in the quiver. That second arrow was auctioned off in a set at the Saint Jude's auction last year, and Iron Bull has it, along with a scanned copy of my hunting journal account of this event.
Dunno why I cranked up the blue in this one. Maybe I was too orange.
After the shot
I have a lot of bows now. Fancy bows. Prettier, faster, more stylish. The Jeffery is my treasure.
Killdeer
Topic: 25 years to the day with my Jeffery longbow (Read 1629 times)
