The Note

ML's brother Bert writes...
There was this one time that there might have been a hunting accident in a bar. The hunter Me, the victim, my sister's husband. This alone prevented it.

I should start at the beginning.
On a cold and raining day we were hunting east of the mail route. There was just Bill and me. We were not in the woods when I lost track of Bill. He had hunted for some time and this was no real concern. I would hunt as planned and we would meet at the truck later.

Mid afternoon I get back at the truck and there is no sign of Bill. I wait. I call and blow the horn and still no Bill. There is only one thing to do, go back in [the woods] and find him.
I am in the woods till dark and still no sign of him. [This has gone on long enough and ] I now decide I must get back and get help. I return to the truck and try to decide what to do next.

Just then my eyes fall on a strange piece of paper on the dash. The paper is about the size of a square of toilet paper and looked like it may have been used for that. On the underside of it were three words, “Went to Eddy’s”.

I would, in time, empty the gun before getting to "Eddy's" (a local bar). My mind cleared as I drove over. As it turns out, (cousin) Bud had come out early that afternoon. He and Bill had decided it was too wet to hunt so they went to the bar.

To this day I don’t know what was the worst thing that happened that day. Was it thinking Bill was lost, or missing out on a afternoon at the bar? I often think [it was] the latter.