It was Oct. 23, 2008, when I headed to my brother’s stand bordering a hay field. Earlier that week, he had seen two bucks fighting in the area. The wind had calmed, and it was about 40 degrees. Around 6:45 p.m., three does entered the field. Minutes later, a bruiser came charging out and chased the does around.

I knew right away he was a shooter. Then he quickly headed back into the woods. I thought my opportunity had slipped away, but moments later he reappeared about 200 yards across the field. My heart pounding, I hit the grunt call — instantly he headed towards me. I drew my bow back when he was 15 yards out, placed my pin on the buck’s chest and let the arrow fly. After a short blood trail, I recovered my first archery kill. Thanks John!