Bea Baker

It would not be in good taste to say what I actually want to say about this book, so I will simply point out that it is a piece of garbage from my perspective. My husband was Forrest, the hunter, who Mr. Lamkin would lead his readers to believe was a novice hunter. As Scottie mentioned in the book, actually one of only a few facts I ran across in his writing, he visited our home for a few days. Being a teacher for the greater part of my 70 years of life, I have learned to read people pretty well. I must say that my first impression of him was not a positive one. He made long distance calls from my home, never mentioning paying for them, and bummed packs of cigarettes from my husband daily. I could mention even more inappropriate incidents, but I'll stop there. I actually have not been able to finish reading the book, as I get so upset at the misconceptions he printed about my husband. Anyone who knew my husband would laugh when reading some of the comments made. My husband could have been dropped off in the middle of nowhere and made it back safely, with no wet feet. I personally heard him tell Scotty, in a discussion about tracking wounded bear, that if anyone attempted to put a shot in a bear he had wounded that there would be more than bear blood left on the tundra. As for Scotty's remark that Forrest told him years later that he could not have walked in on the bear as Scott had done, which in it's self was so ridiculous, he never spoke with my husband after his return from Alaska. Scott did phone here a couple of times, but Forrest, who was not a phone talker, would have me make excuses for his inability to come to the phone. Silly lies, like saying Denny Crum named Scott's rifle, are so obvious. He called the gun Mr. Gibbs when Forrest hunted with him. I am reasonably sure that Mr. Crum had not bear hunted with Scott until after Forrest's hunt, because he called our home and talked extensively to Forrest about their guiding service. I recall Forrest telling him that they had camps in big bear country, but not to expect an organized, professional guiding service. I could continue pointing out many more lies and misconceptions, but will end here. I accidentally ran across this book, and other than for a few good memories from the pictures of my husband, I wish I had not seen it. My husband died in December 2019, and I am thankful that he did not see this book. Our son, my husband's brothers, and the many nephews and nieces that he taught shooting and hunting skills to, were, as was I, appalled by it. With both my husband and Scotty being gone, perhaps I should have just let it go, but I owe it to Forrest's memory to comment on this fictional attempt at literature. It would receive no stars, but would not post without entering at least one.