A Goose Sent from God
By R.A. Hancock
It was in the late 1960’s when my wife Virginia and I first saw the Reelfoot Lake. It was an impressive and large Lake with great groves of Very old Cypress Trees as far as the eye could see. White Cranes stood motionless in the shallows along the banks watching for their prey, as others skimmed along just above the water, and others in great flocks flew at altitude hurrying toward another part of the Lake. Eagles make their nests here in the top of the Cypresses, this is clearly their territory. From our first impression and through the years, we still enjoy the natural beauty of the Reelfoot Lake.
Although it was not always so, the area remains a small low key peaceful community of people; that spend their lives on the banks of the Reelfoot Lake. Some of the folks living in the Lakes proximity were ancestors to the people that lived in the area when the Lake was formed. Their kin and forebears were eyewitnesses to the earthquake that formed the Reelfoot Lake. History reveals, the Mississippi River ran backward for several days, and water filled the depression made by the earthquake. The terrain had erupted with a horrifying haunting sound, and the tortured upheaval split subterranean plates of stone and earth, it left violent and monolithic change. Unrest and depression enveloped the survivors and the land. The violence of the earth seemed to transfer to the normally peaceful people of the area. Afterward there were incidents of nightriders who rode with death for a companion, and then came the wars for fishing rights, and these particularly bloody skirmishes, left a notoriously bloodstained history. As late as the 1960’s and early 1970’s, the past still stained the tranquility of the area. Old vendettas and feuds were still smoldering just below the surface. There was a point when there was a rash of suicides. Then there were the People who disappeared during the fishing wars never to be seen again. Virginia and I came to the area in the late 1960’s and it was in the early 1970’s when we came to Samburg Tennessee to preach a Revival. The Church was located on the highway in Samburg, and I was told, it was established by a pioneering Apostolic Ministry. We were having a real outpouring of the Holy Ghost; the house was full and the altars were filled nightly, the Gifts of the Holy Ghost, were in operation and people were miraculously being healed. The services were like old time Pentecost and there was jubilee in Samburg. After the service one night I was standing, visiting with a member of the Church. A Pentecostal looking woman came up to me and said, “Brother Hancock my husband is a professional Bass guide on the Reelfoot Lake. He has asked me to invite you to a free guided fishing trip.” I didn’t even hesitate, I simply said, “why sure! I would love to go.” She answered “He said he would meet you at the boat dock in the morning before daylight.” She walked away and the man standing next to me said; “whatever you do don’t go with that man.” I answered, “Why? I told the Sister I would go.” He at first was adamant and repeated his statement; refusing to tell me why. But after being pressed, he told me one of the most shocking stories I had ever heard. “You don’t know that man, I do. He is known as the meanest man in Lake County. Grown men have been known to cross the street to keep from meeting him on the sidewalk. He sometimes whips his wife if she comes to Church, and he killed His own Daddy with a 12 gauge shotgun. Furthermore during the fishing wars right here on the Lake. His competition has vanished, more than once, without a trace, out on the Lake, and has never been heard of since. He has spent time in prison, and another thing, He hates Preachers, Church, and gospel singing. Mothers tell their children; Sammy’s going to get you if you don’t behave. He is without a doubt, the most wicked man I have ever known.” I was naturally concerned by the story I had heard. I began to pray earnestly and ask my Lord Jesus Christ to guide me. After praying, I felt I should go with Sammy. The next morning before daylight I was at the boat dock. A short stocky man came up to me and introduced himself, and asked if I was the Preacher, R. A. Hancock. I replied in the affirmative and we shook hands, he then pointed to a boat. It was a pirogue, with a metal clad bottom. This was due to thousands of submerged snags and stumps hidden just below the lakes surface. Without further ado we headed out across the lake. Almost immediately, we left the tourist side of the Lake. As Sammy piloted us through the sawgrass channels, I soon became hopelessly disoriented. No words were spoken and we plunged deeper into a labyrinth of lanes and channels. Finally we pulled into an open area and Sammy cut the motor. He lowered the anchor, and we began to rig up when Sammy began to weep. I sat stock still, shocked for several minutes, and then I said, “Sammy can I help you?” Still weeping he replied in a halting voice, “Can’t nobody help me!” In his highly agitated state I knew I must press to get his attention. “Sammy, tell me what is the matter?” And then he told me the following true story. “Preacher I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, ever since I killed that Goose.” He then explained how he had awakened early before daylight, and had gone out to his blind; (a camouflaged place to conceal himself from the Geese.) He had placed his decoys there the night before; he then went into the blind and settled down to wait for the breaking of day. He could hear the Geese although it was still too dark to see them. As he waited he could tell that the geese were flying at high altitude and as dawn broke his suspicions were realized, they were at about 10 thousand feet and with the wind blowing out of the north they were moving south at top speed. Sammy D. was about to go home when he saw a prime Gander at low altitude; being an expert caller he imitated a Goose call and the Goose headed straight toward him. He rose to his feet, fired and the Goose fell. He told me that he then walked over to admire the very large and prime Gander, and he noticed the band on the Gander’s leg. He knelt down and held the band so he could read the words inscribed on it. As he spoke of the incident Sammy began to sob again; he said it was as though a sledgehammer had hit him in the heart. The first words on the band that he read were these, 2, Corinthians 12: 9, “My grace is sufficient for thee. I then told him that God loved him enough to send him a message of love. He then broke down and cried uncontrollably saying, “Oh my God I killed the messenger.” I then replied, “No Sammy they killed the messenger almost two thousand years ago.” He shook with sobs as I led him to the Lord Jesus Christ there in the boat. The Lord filled Sammy with the Holy Ghost in the service that night and He was Baptized in the in name of Jesus Christ, in the waters of the Reelfoot Lake; with ice all around the edges of the lake and in the Cypress Trees, and a chilling wind out of the north. Sammy came to the Lord and faithfully served the Lord the rest of his life. One of the most beautiful things about his new Christian experience was, that the same little children that had been frightened by their mothers telling them, Sammy D. is going to get you if you don’t be good. These children would come with their angelic faces, and chubby little hands extended toward Sammy. As he would pick them up in his arms, tears of joy would flow down his cheeks. As Paul Harvey used to say, this is the rest of the story. On the band that was on the Ganders leg in addition to the scripture, was the name and address of the man that banded the Goose. He was called Wild Goose Jack. Brother Sammy D’s family wrote to Wild Goose Jack to tell him about Sammy D’s conversion and I was told they received a return letter. Someone in Jack’s family wrote back and said, “We received your letter, and after reading your testimony, if Wild Goose Jack were alive today, it would no doubt be the happiest day of his life.”
My dear friend, Brother Sammy D. Called one day before the Revival ended in Samburg, Tennessee and entrusted me with the very goose band that is in this true account of his conversion. I recently took the band to my friend Brother William Robinson, a skilled and consummate professional photographer. He took the band, a round cylinder, and photographed it from every angle and made it seem flat to better read the message. Thank you again Brother Robinson.
Perhaps somewhere between Canada and Tennessee a farmer or someone was awakened by the cries of the wild Geese passing overhead, stepping out on their porch they looked heavenward and saw the V formation and conceivably heard the call of a wild Goose, a large Gander wearing a band of destiny. A Goose sent from God.
Important!
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You’re Servant in Christ, R.A. Hancock, P.O. Box 724 Woodland Park, Colorado 80866-0724