Mountain Man E-Book

Tim Guraedy

• Herausgeber: BroadStreet Publishing Group, LLC
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Seitenzahl: 149

Beschreibung

Join Mountain Man as he shares stories from his youth and recent years, and rediscover the wisdom of speaking slower than you think, taking time to talk with others, helping a person in need, eating together as a family, and doing a job right the first time. Also learn to make the most of your uniqueness, bring humor into everyday life, keep your faith first, be quiet to catch the squirrel, stay positive when life is hard, leave a clean trail, and much more. Instead of figuring out how to squeeze a little more in your day, it is time to slow down and enjoy the God given moments to make life truly worthwhile.

Leseprobe

 

BroadStreet Publishing Group Racine, Wisconsin, USA www.broadstreetpublishing.com

MOUNTAIN MAN: Keepin’ a Slow Profile

© 2014 Tim Guraedy

ISBN-13: 978-1-4245-4939-9 (print book) ISBN-13: 978-1-4245-4952-8 (e-book)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Disclaimer from the author: This is my story and the book is true and as accurate as I can remember. The information and advice provided in this book is designed to provide entertaining and helpful information on the subjects discussed. This book is not meant to be used, nor should it be used, to diagnose or treat any condition that requires professional assistance. Please consult a professional as needed. The author or publisher is not responsible for actions taken as the result of reading this book. We sincerely hope you enjoy the book and are encouraged to walk on the trail God has for you.

All Scripture is taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission.

Design by Garborg Design Works, Inc. at www.garborgdesign.comTypesetting by Katherine Lloyd, www.TheDESKonline.com

Stock or custom editions of BroadStreet Publishing titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, ministry, fundraising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

Printed in China

 Foreword by Jase Robertson

PART ONE: MOUNTAIN MAN’S STORY

  1  It’s Okay to Be Different

PART TWO: KEEPIN’ A SLOW PROFILE

  2  Slowing Down Makes You Stronger

  3  Keep First Things First

  4  Humor Tickles like a Feather

  5  Look for Signs

  6  Don’t Fall Out of the Boat

  7  Small Seeds Grow Big Trees

  8  Do It Right the First Time

  9  Pray on Your Knees

10  Get Along with Others

11  Get a Good Dog

12  God Is Your Flashlight

PART THREE: A LITTLE MORE ABOUT MOUNTAIN MAN

 About the Author

 Mountain Man’s Favorites

 Mountain Man’s Ten Tips to Choose a Good Woman

 Acknowledgements

I met Mountain Man after having a conversation with my brother Willie about finding an air conditioner man to work on my system. I remember Willie telling me that Mountain Man could fix the problem, but if I chose to have a conversation with him during the process, I would need to get comfortable. Of course I had no idea what Willie meant until I actually met Mountain Man.

Mountain Man and I became friends and we had many talks about hunting, family, and life in general. At some point in our friendship, Mountain Man asked me if I would study the Bible with him. I told him to come anytime to the duck call shop at Duck Commander and we could talk. I have to admit that the idea of having Mountain Man in the duck call shop was a sure-fire way of breaking up the monotony of building duck calls. However, the duck call shop is a good, relaxed setting to reflect on things that really matter.

Mountain Man started coming to the shop almost on a daily basis in between his heating and air-conditioning jobs, and he had many questions about the Bible, relationships, and faith in God. The Robertson family welcomed Mountain Man into our homes and he started coming to church with us on a weekly basis.

After about a year, Mountain Man called me up on the phone and I could tell he was a bit emotional. It took him a few minutes longer than normal to inform me he wanted to surrender to Christ and asked me if I would baptize him. After a film shoot a few days later, I baptized him at our church. It was an awesome moment for both of us and his actions say a lot about a man being open to change his direction in life.

It wasn’t that Mountain Man hadn’t been a religious man up to this point, but he wanted to be sure about his relationship with God. He had come to realize the grace of God on a cross and the power of the resurrection for him personally.

One of the questions I get asked a lot as I travel throughout the country is, “Does Mountain Man really talk like that?” My answer is always, “Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeessss,” in my best Mountain Man imitated voice.

In the episode where I attempted to imitate Mountain Man for the first time, I also made a reference about Han Solo trying to understand Chewbacca. After Mountain Man watched the episode of the show, he was a bit concerned that it might be embarrassing for him to go out in public. I was also baffled to learn he had never seen the movie Star Wars. I told him we were only making fun of him because we cared about him and that he needed to immediately go and rent Star Wars from the movie house. It led to a good discussion about imitation being the best form of flattery. I could tell he wasn’t too sure about that, but after a while he thanked me for “making him famous.”

It was all in good fun, but through this experience we talked about having thick skin on little stuff and having your heart right when it comes to the big stuff like faith, family, and friendships. Mountain Man has become one of the more likable people on Duck Dynasty because he’s willing to laugh at himself and fire back at my family in view of our quirks.

The bottom line is that our faith in Christ gives us opportunities for new beginnings and second chances. When you’re forgiven and have hope in life after the grave, it gives you a peace in life that keeps you from taking yourself too seriously with the little things. Mountain Man has found a peace in Christ that has given him a platform to try and help others. I am proud that he has chosen to write a book to try and inspire others to do great things. Sit back and get comfortable, and may faith, hope, and love flourish in your life.

—Jase RobertsonAuthor of Good Call: Reflections on Faith,Family and Fowl

Since my first appearance on Duck Dynasty, people are curious to know if I really talk this slow. Well, yes I do. But the good news is that you can read this book as fast as you want. We’ll just see if I get to do the audio version.

I’m really excited to share my story with you. I think I had a special childhood and young-adult life, filled with some funny stories that shaped how I became Mountain Man. I’m also going to share some important lessons I’ve learned along the way so that you can keep a slow profile and make the most of the life the good Lord has given to you.

So sit on down, relax a bit, and enjoy the book.

On October 2, 1957, in Winnsboro, Louisiana, Frank and Ruth Guraedy (pronounced jer-AH-dee) welcomed a son into the world. They named him Tim. His sister, Lynn, was three and a half, and his brother, Bill, was two and a half. I was the new baby. Mountain Baby. And now I’m Mountain Man.

My daddy worked for a gas pipeline company in Extension, Louisiana. The company provided a house for us that stood in a row next to all the other company houses.

Across the cotton field lived our neighbors Ordy Mae and Red and about seventeen kids. Seriously, they had a big family. My daddy made a dollar or so an hour, which wasn’t much, but sometimes we would need some help around the house. So Ordy Mae would come clean for us. If my parents went to town, they’d take my brother and sister and leave me with Ordy Mae. She loved little Tim.

I remember Ordy Mae as a large, caring woman with a rag wrapped around her head. She’d rock me to sleep on the porch and say, “I just wish little Tim was mine. I love him to death.” As we outgrew our clothes, we gave them to Ordy Mae because she had so many kids to care for. They were the best of kids.

My earliest memories are of catching big red crawfish with a string and some bacon. (By the way, if you want to see the best way to eat crawfish, check out my video on YouTube. Emm hmmm. They’re really good.) Sometimes Ordy Mae’s kids would come across the field and through the barbed wire fence to play with us. One of the boys was about my age—three years old—and had come over to play. We kids were always barefooted, just running around in our shorts. I had just grabbed my first crawfish. I was scared of their pincers, but my brother and sister had showed me how to pick them up without getting pinched. I was so proud of myself. The crawfish was huge, red, and mean looking. I was so excited to show him my crawfish. As soon as he saw what I was holding, his eyes got as big as silver dollars and he took off running across the cotton field so fast you could see the dust fly all the way to his house.

Minnesota

My daddy worked hard and also went to school to study compressor engines, which were the size of a large family room. He was determined to learn and his company sent him to Hallock, Minnesota. I was three and we headed to a small town about twenty-five miles from the Canadian border.

The people were different. The land was vast and flat and winters were cold. Beautiful woods and clear lakes surrounded us. We played in the cemetery for fun and threw acorns at each other, and Daddy spent time teaching us how to fish.

Most kids have their favorite toys scattered around the living room—maybe superhero action figures or Legos. My daddy’s shotgun sat in the corner and had my full attention. Of course it was empty with no bullets. He had them all hid. But my mama says I would stare at that gun for hours. Daddy showed me his pistol too, also with no bullets. I held it and stared at it. I just loved the pistol and the shotgun.

I got a BB gun and started to learn to shoot when I was about four. My dad set up a target in the basement that had little ducks going in circles. At four years old I could outshoot my brother and sister. I hit the target just about every time, which surprised my dad. I’d just laugh and keep shooting.

My dad turned us loose in the yard with the BB gun or our homemade slingshots. There wasn’t a bird, chipmunk, acorn, or soda pop can that was safe. Daddy couldn’t keep enough BBs in the house. I’d either be shooting at the target in the basement, roaming through the cemetery, or walking through the woods at the end of the street shooting everything I could shoot.

We’d climb way up to the top of oak trees and swing off the limbs like squirrels. It was just our nature. Mama said I was wiry and was always trying to climb something. We had lots of time for fun in the summer because that far north it didn’t get dark until close to eleven. When we heard Daddy’s loud whistle, we knew it was time to come in. And we’d come on in.

In winter we went ice fishing and ice skating, and played hockey with sticks and a rock. I fell through the ice a time or two. The water wasn’t very deep, but it was wet and cold! By the time I’d get back to the house, my clothes were frozen stiff.

We lived in Minnesota for five and a half years. I talked then like I do now—real slow with a southern accent—so kids made fun of me. When I started school, teachers would say, “It’s on, not own.” Or “Say off, not awf.” I couldn’t make the change. Thankfully after a while everyone got tired of making fun of me and I made some good friends and had a lot of fun.

The school administration wanted to hold me back from going into the second grade because I was too small. Mama didn’t go for that, so I went on into the second grade. My favorite subjects were math and science and I was a good listener.

We all loved going to the theater. The show always started with a cartoon. I watched the cartoon, but was too young to understand the movie. I just enjoyed eating popcorn and drinking soda pop. Often Mama would look over to my seat and I’d be gone. My head would pop up four rows away from where they were sitting and I’d hear, “Get back here, boy. Quit crawling underneath the chairs.”

When I was about six, I received another gift from Daddy: his US Air Force knife. I thought I was really hunting then. My dad, my brother, and I often went to a beautiful place called Lake of the Woods. The city is known as the walleye capital of the world. I had my BB gun and that knife, which dangled freely down the whole side of my leg.

I love the pull of the fish. I was amazed at how strong they grip the water so they don’t come out. I caught my first fish on Lake Bronson. I caught a yellow perch on a cane pole. I loved to watch the float go under when the fish would bite and then feel the pull of the fish when it was time to reel it in.

I know this book is about keepin’ a slow profile, but I want you to know that you can keep a slow profile and still catch fish fast. I talk slow and move slow, but that’s when I speed up a little—when the fish are fighting. Growing up I’d have to pull the fish out quickly and recast before my brother or sister could drop their lines into my spot.

Bill and I were good friends growing up. When we fought, we never hit each other with our fists even though we probably felt like it a time or two. We’d just wrastle (that’s how you say wrestle in the South). In those days our adventures covered a lot of woods, creeks, and lakes—including many frozen lakes during the long winters.

Tennessee

Just after Christmas when I was nine years old and in the third grade, my daddy got transferred and we moved to Portland, Tennessee. Portland was real small at that time with just one stoplight. Now when I go for a visit, it’s easy to get lost.

Shortly after we arrived in Portland I got my first real gun—a .410 single barrel bolt action shotgun. Some kids sleep with teddy bears; I slept with my shotgun. That’s the truth. Every time I got a new gun I slept with it. I didn’t name my guns like some people do. But I was so proud of that gun.

The first thing I shot was a big bobwhite quail sitting on a fencepost. My uncle had come into town and we were all out riding around in the car. My uncle suddenly called out, “Stop and let Tim shoot that bobwhite quail off that fencepost.”

My brother and sister where there and said, “Tim can’t hit that.”

I was like an old bird dog with my tongue hanging out. I was still really small, but got up out of the back seat and took aim. The sight bead went back and forth and around. When it got right on target, I pulled the trigger. Boom, there it went. I said, “I told you I’d get him!”

They couldn’t believe it. “He got him! He got him!”

I ran over and got the giant quail and brought him back to the car. I was amazed. I had done killed me something, and it was good to eat.

My uncle said, “You’d better put that bird under the seat, Tim. It ain’t quail season. You’re going to get arrested.”

I was scared to death and stuck it up under the seat. I didn’t know whether it was the season or not. But Daddy cleaned it and we ate it. Emm hmmm. Delicious.

Then I started squirrel hunting. My first kill was a memorable one. I saw a squirrel run up a tree, and I guess I scared it so bad that it peed on me—right in my eye. So I retaliated and shot the squirrel. Daddy laughed, laughed, and laughed some more about that.

I really took to hunting. The first year my dad would clean the squirrels. He showed me what to do and I watched. By the second year he let me go out and hunt by myself. Sometimes my brother came with me, but I often went out alone because he preferred to fish.

The first time I came home with some squirrels I said, “Daddy, come on, clean these squirrels.”

He said, “Son, I showed you how. Go out there and clean them.”

So I did just like he said. First you grab the squirrel by the tail and flip it over so you’re looking at its rear end. Next cut through the bone at the base of the tail, but not through the skin on the other side. Put your foot on the tail, grab the hind legs and pull the skin as far as you can pull. Then you can reach up under the belly side and pull the hide up over the shoulders. Then whack all that skin and his head off. My daddy always said, “Make sure you don’t pull the tail off and you’ll be all right.”

Daddy told me to skin all the squirrels first and then gut them. That kept the fur off the meat as much as possible. I felt like I had grown into a man at an early age, learning to kill and clean on my own. It didn’t bother me to do it; it was a natural instinct to me and I enjoyed it.