Dad's Memories

Chris and Mike began shooting blackpowder around age 8. Chris was one of those individuals that had the uncanny ability to hit what he shot at. He was known as `lil Shur Shot.' One time a few years back we were shooting at our range and I told him that I would buy him a real good blackpowder rifle when he got to feeling better and could shoot at rendezvous. He said, "Dad my old 45 cal. is just fine to shoot with." He then proceeded to hit every target on our range. The needle, the charcoal, the chain, the card and whatever else I had dreamed up. His dad has never accomplished that feat. He also loved to throw his knife and hawk. He lived along a major street and he sure got some strange looks as people drove by and saw him practicing his throwing. He was very good at bead working and it seemed to relax him. I have several pieces he has made for me over the years. He taught bead working at the Juvenile Detention Center for Cole County and it gave the kids a sense of pride to be able to turn out a nice piece of bead work.

The last seven years Chris has fought a battle with a very severe breathing problem. Until he was 28 years old he never had a problem. We will never know what caused it, maybe some industrial chemicals that he was inspecting as a police officer. Blackpowder seemed to aggravate it and he wanted so bad to attend rendezvous and hold church services for the rendezvous.

He was in the hospital many times, even had to have open heart surgery one time to help his breathing. He was in a wheel chair for six months one time after bone marrow transplant in his hips. The steroids they had given him to help his breathing had eaten away his hip sockets, he never once complained and always said to me, "aw Dad it could be a lot worse."

He was working on becoming a minister, Mom Pruett was saying she wished she had heard him preach and old Three Toes, his uncle, told Mom that she had heard him preach all his life. He lived the example, he never met anyone he didn't like and saw good in everyone. He lived his life for God in every aspect.

Chris loved hunting and was in the woods all the time growing up. A few years ago I bought a new 4-wheeler just before deer season. One morning Chris was going by himself deer hunting and I told him to take the 4-wheeler, he said "aw Dad it is so pretty and clean," I told him we bought it to use. That night I came in the shop and you could not tell what color the 4-wheeler was. It was covered all over with mud, tickled this old man, he had used it like it was supposed to be used. Chris killed his first deer when he was 13, down below the Cemetery where he is buried. He loved to roam the hills around the cemetery with his twin brother Mike when they were growing up.

Chris and Mike years ago had a go-cart and at a horse auction Chris came running up to me and said he had traded his go-cart for a horse, as we were walking out to look at the horse, he casually mentioned that he had also traded my air compressor. He worked with that old horse until he could shoot his blackpowder rifle from horseback.

A few years ago when we were cutting firewood to sell I managed to cut three large trees and get them all hung up in the air with my chain saw hung in one of them, I asked Chris to drive the truck with a chain attached to one of the trees so we could pull them down. I told Chris I was going to hold onto my saw and as soon as he saw the trees begin to fall to get out of there. As soon as my saw came un-pinched I took off, looking back to make sure Chris was alright. To my dismay just as all three trees began to fall Chris jumped out of the truck and ran up through the woods. I asked him later why he had left the truck and he said "Dad you told me to get out of there, you didn't say anything about taking the truck." Luckily the trees missed the truck only taking off one mirror".

We also sold fireworks and had a junk (antique) shop, Chris would trade your socks off if your were not careful. Chris loved history and metal detected with me for civil war artifacts, he found a pistol bullet and part of a saber in a park in Jefferson City on one of our hunts.

Chris adored his family and devoted his life to them. He would even stop by the grocery store to take them something as soon as he would get out of the hospital. He never gave up trying to get better. I would like to thank everyone for the cards, letters, flowers and good thoughts. Bill and Pam Banning, who drove up from Waynesville in the rain for visitation. It is good to have Rendezvous family, when one of us hurt we all hurt and it is a good feeling to know everyone cares. Grizzly Adams came over and helped me get the Cemetery trimmed and the road cleared of brush. Sure do appreciate all of you. Crazyman