The Great Quail Hunt

Once I got my driver’s license, every Christmas Eve it was my job to go pick Ralph up, and after dinner, to take Ralph home.  Ralph was an old guy, and he was a Gentleman’s Gentleman, of sorts.  If you ever had a question about manners, Ralph was the guy to ask.  He helped my Mother prepare our Christmas Eve dinner of fried quail for more years than I can remember.  When I was a kid, Dad and Coachie used to go quail hunting for the dinner Christmas Eve. When we were older, and wild quail got scarce, Ralph and Mom cooked store bought quail.  I used to pick him up at about 3 in the afternoon.  He would walk with tremendous dignity out of his house.  He looked so sharp in his Tux.  James Brown envied Ralph’s hair.  Even when Ralph got too old to cook with Mom, I still went and picked him up.  He sat at the end of the counter and visited with everyone, and afterwards, I took him home.  Some folks say it’s not Christmas till Hans Gruber falls off Nakatomi Plaza.  I used to say it’s not Christmas until I pick up Ralph.

At Mom and Dad’s house, Ralph would carefully fold his coat, and put a crisply starched full apron on, and he and Mom got down to work frying dozens of quail, making giant batches of black eyed peas, candied yams, mashed potatoes, fried okra, cornbread sticks….and on and on and on.   An amazing feast was put together while everyone visited.  Coachie and I sometimes practiced calling ducks in the hallway.  Miss Dot always lit up the the room.  Dad would smile, and laugh, and have a great time.  My brother, my sister and I just took it all in.  We had a great time, but it never occurred to us that one day it would fall to us.

Several years ago, Anthony, one of my sister’s son-in-laws, revived the old tradition of a Christmas Eve Quail Hunt.  Every year, Uncle Tony, my brother Matt, Anthony, Little Matt, and Little Tony (neither of whom is little anymore) and Owl go quail hunting.  My sister fixes a tremendous dinner, and a good time is had by all.

We lived in New Jersey for many years, and now in Florida.  I haven’t yet participated in the Great Quail Hunt.  I hope next year I can, and even if I can’t hunt, I want to be there Christmas Eve.  Though Ralph, and Mom and Dad, and Coachie and Miss Dot have all gone to their greater reward, I know they won’t miss this.  If ever there was a night of good spirits, it’s Christmas Eve at my sister’s house.  All the ghosts will be there.

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