DONORS:
T. Jeremy and Lori Kessler, Kurt Reineck, Corey Roelke, Debra
Best, Axel Schardt, Grace and Donald Roeber, Steve Oleson,
James C. Davis, North American Falconers Association
Remembering Steve Boyd
By Don Roeber
I met Steve Boyd in the early nineties at one of the Texas Hawking
Association Abilene field meets. We became fast friends and
compared a lot notes not only about falconry, but on herpetology
as well. Steve would have me and others up to Borger, Texas where
he lived at the time, to fly falcons. Later, Steve and family moved
to Glen Rose, Texas (near to the DFW metroplex where I live). We
started hawking together routinely. He would come over to the
DFW area and fly my ponds and I would run down to his areas.
We had the greatest of times. Steve and I were on the same page
on just about everything.
Steve was a very generous person. We went to one of the Lamar,
Colorado field meets together. I had just lost a tiercel peregrine
to a redtail. Steve talked me into trapping a prairie.
We trapped on the way up to the meet. My pigeons
were tame and did not fly very well. We ran out of
sparrows. In Lamar we saw on old abandoned house
next to a feedlot with pigeons all over its roof. Steve
got that gleam in his eye and said, ‘let’s come back
tonight and get some’. That night, Steve boosted me
up through a hole in the ceiling where I stuffed every
pocket in my coat with pigeons from the mass of
birds in the attic. The next day, at Steve’s urging, we
drove all the way down to Sunray (a town north of
Dumas, Texas) and trapped my first passage prairie,
in short order, with one of those fresh, wild pigeons.
As I was selecting from one of my poorly-made
hoods to put on the new bird, Steve pulled one
out from his tack box, saying ‘try this’. It fit
perfectly. I told Steve I would get it back to him
after I procured a better hood. Steve said “nah,
just keep it”. I still have that hood. I’ve heard
similar stories from others regarding Steve’s
generosity. By the way, that prairie falcon
trained up to be one of the best game hawks
I have had and really opened a lot of Texas
falconers’ eyes on the value and potential of
prairie falcons.
Another story comes to mind. I got a call from Steve while he
was on the way to Borger to visit his son. Steve had pulled off of
the main highway and flown a pond with his peregrine and as
Steve often did, he called me to describe the flight. So, we were
talking and all of a sudden Steve let out a round of frantic swear
words. I said, Steve, what’s wrong, and Steve immediately said,
Don, I have to go! I just got bit (and it turns out, sprayed) by a
skunk! Later, after getting the required ten shorts into his stomach
to take care of the rabies that the skunk obviously had, Steve went
on to explain that when he was talking with me, he was sitting by
the bird while it fed up on the duck and he had placed one of his
hands behind him on the ground to prop himself up. Next thing
Steve knew, he felt a pain in his thumb and looked down to see a
skunk chewing on his thumb! You just can’t make this stuff up.
When it comes to herpetology, Steve was second
to none as a top-notch herper. In fact, I learned
later that Steve was one of the first people to
collect gray banded kingsnakes. The story goes
that back in the day, graybands were considered
to be almost a mythological creature that was
only seen in dusty old natural history books.
As a teenager, against advice and some amused
looks from older more experienced herpers (and
falconers), like Buzz Ross, Steve went out to the
Texas Trans Pecos region where this species was
supposed to occur and collected not one, but
several graybands on that first trip! Steve went
on to catch many, many more graybands.
I lived vicariously through Steve when it
came to collecting these snakes, as I waited
for his latest report from out in the Trans
Pecos. And every time he collected one,
it was like the first time for Steve! He just
got so excited about it! If the gray bands
were moving, if people were finding them,
he would call me and say ‘they’re snappin
down here’!
Steve’s excitement about falconry was something to behold. Every
day in the field was going to be the best day ever. I can’t tell you
how many times that he told me that he had just experienced the
‘best flight ever’. So it follows that Steve’s enthusiasm for life is
what I will always remember about him. Every day was a new day
filled with possibilities. Anything could happen. You could not
help being pumped up when you were around Steve.
Now Steve has moved on. And he has left the rest of us to
carry on. We can all honor Steve and his legacy by being just as
enthused about life as he was. Every time I have a particularly
good flight with one of my birds, I offer up a few words to Steve.
Somewhere out there in the ether, I have no doubt Steve hears me
and smiles.
So long, Steve.
WE CAN ALL HONOR
STEVE AND HIS LEGACY
BY BEING JUST AS
ENTHUSED ABOUT LIFE
AS HE WAS.