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Dave Tuttle
The Gentle Giant
Part 3


By: Dave Tuttle

The drive from my place to southwestern Minnesota leaves one ample time to think and ponder the inner workings of the universe. I had driven it many times. Highway 71 south and head west on Highway 30. It would take me to the town of Slayton each and every time. November mornings can make for interesting driving conditions and that particular morning in late November was no exception. I was dealing with blizzard-like weather conditions and it made for a much slower drive than I had anticipated. The blowing snow raging across the road made me dizzy and even more tired but I pressed on. I remember thanking myself for remembering my U2 and Rush cassettes. I also remember trying to kick myself in the ass for forgetting to put that 12 pack of Mountain Dew in the fridge before I had went to bed that night. Warm Mountain Dew never did it for me. Still doesn't.

I was excited to see Skip again. We were going to hunt one of his favorite holes west of Lake Shetek, it was money each and every time we hunted it. We both had fond memories of this place, Skip took his first woodie on these waters. I dropped my first greenhead here and fell out of the boat as I pumped my fists in the air proclaiming to the duck Gods that I was the greatest duck hunter to ever walk the earth. I still remember Skip helping me back into the boat and chewing my ass. I was given a lecture on being professional and "acting like you had been here before". He touched a little on my lack of safety and checking my ego at the door as well. To be honest I don't remember much else on Skip's lecture. I was much too focused on the greenhead I held in my hands.

As I slowly headed west on Highway 30 that morning I knew I would be cutting it close. It was never a good thing to keep Skip waiting but I figured he would understand considering I was weaving my way through an avalanche and driving on highways more suitable for hockey than they were for driving on. As fate would have it I did make it to our honeyhole with a few minutes to spare. As I turned left off the county road and started down the snow covered dirt road I could make out the tire tracks of Skips Ford and his trailer. It made for a nice trail to follow and it led me right to my hunting buddy. I flashed my brights a few times to let him know I had arrived but his truck was vacant and dark. The boat was off the trailer and all of his gear was gone so I knew he was down at the access waiting on me. I threw on my waders, grabbed my shotgun and shells and let my spotlight guide me through the blowing snow and darkness as I made my way down to Skip.

Visibility was not good as I made my way down. About 15 to 20 yards out I finally spotted the boat and hollered to Skip. I got nothing in return. Dead silence with the exception of the brutal wind. I put my spotlight beam on the boat and and couldn't make out any activity at all. I ran it across the water and noticed some of it had frozen over, we were going to have to break ice to get to where we wanted to go. I hollered to Skip once more as I made my way to the boat. No response. Nothing at all. For whatever reason I immediately had this sinking feeling inside of me that feared the worst. For some reason I knew as I made my way to that boat that my life was about to be turned upside down and I was about to be shaken to my core. I didn't feel the blowing snow hitting my face, I couldn't feel the bitter cold taking over my hands and feet. All I could feel was this instant rush of adrenaline, fear and overwhelming sadness. As I walked up and looked in the boat I seen my buddy Skip laying in a pool of his own blood. I knew it wasn't an accident but still couldn't help but stand there in a state of complete shock. He had this all planned out. He was going to take his own life at his favorite place on earth and he knew that I would take care of him and get him home. He always knew he could count on me for anything. I knew he would spare his aunt and uncle from walking into something like this, I think deep down Skip knew that I knew that this day was coming eventually. We all did. His suicide was inevitable.The demons Skip was fighting inside far outnumbered what he had in his arsenal. He had lost the will to live and the will to continue fighting a war he knew he would never win. I just pretended like there wasn't a war being waged on my buddy Skips soul all of those years. Ignorance is bliss, right?

Skip was never the type to bother anybody with his problems. It was far easier for him to keep it all bottled inside and let it fester inside of him. He shared with me the pain and anguish he felt losing his parents in that tragic accident but he would never let me see him cry or let me know he was suffering on the inside. He would just tell me he was okay and that he would deal with it himself. Skip never found his way in life after he lost his mom and dad. The only thing that brought him any sense of peace or contentment was the water and waterfowl. Why he chose to end his life at that time and at that place I will never know. I do know that one day I will see my buddy again and all of my questions will be answered. He was my mentor and my best friend. As sad and frightened as I was staring at Skips lifeless body in that boat it also brought me a tiny sense of peace in knowing that his battle was over. He had given it all he had, it was a valiant effort. The demons he fought all those years were strong and relentless, their legion too many for him to conquer alone.

Skip did leave me a goodbye note, I just didn't notice it sitting on his dashboard of his truck that morning. The police delivered it to me later that day and as I read it on the couch of his aunt and uncles late that afternoon I completely lost it. I was out of my mind and felt the world crumble beneath my feet. Reading that letter made it even more of a reality that my buddy was gone for good. Never again would we share a laugh or a hunt. I was angry with him for not getting the help he needed and I was more angry at myself for not trying harder to make that happen. It was over. It was too late. Now I had to pick up the peices and try to carry on as best I could. I share his letter to me with you in hopes that it will help you better understand my buddy Skip. Let it be a reminder that those who are hurting inside need our help, our love, and our encouragement, even if they don't ask for it. Maybe those who never ask for it are the ones who need it the most? Just something to think about.

Hey bud!

I made the decision to raise my white flag and surrender. I'm sorry but I just can't do this anymore. I can't pretend that everything is okay when it never is. I can't pretend to be happy when I'm never happy. I need to be with them again, tell them how much I love them and miss them. I hope they will understand why I'm doing this. Remember that time camping when we were looking up at the stars and talking about God? I hope He isn't going to be pissed about this! If anyone understands it should be God, right? I am miserable inside and have been ever since those drunks took mom and dad away from me. I'm sorry you will be the one to see me like this and I beg you to forgive me, or at least try! I don't want you to be the one to deal with what I am about to do to myself but I know I will be in good hands with you. I hope that makes sense. You are the brother I never had and you are and always will be my best friend, don't you ever forget that! Do your best to remember the good times and all of our hunts together and know that I will be keeping a watchful eye over you from high above. I may have let you down here, but I won't from up there! I want you to have my boat and my guns, if you want my decoys you can take them but I don't know why you would want them. I needed new ones. My Bible is on my dresser and I want you to have it, I put my favorite picture of us in it for you to have as well. Besides my duck hunting stuff that Bible is probably the next most important possession I have and I want you to have it. You can have my cassettes too if you want them. The file cabinet and everything in it is yours, just remember that the middle drawer needs to be fixed. Keys for the cabinet are next to my Bible. Thanks for everything bud, this is NOT your fault. You tried many times and I appreciate and love you for it. This is all on me and it's something I feel I have to do. Remember to stay professional out there and always act like you've been there before! We made a great team out there and you mean the world to me. Take good care of yourself and thanks for everything. I am very sorry. I wonder if I will be able to watch you read this from up there? Just a random thought. Love ya bro.

Skip

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