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The Story of the Survivalist Skunk and the Sulphur Well Sure-Shooting Mama Mama packs heat and fires with deadly accuracy. Snakes and skunks beware. Most of the time. But the offspring of a 'rabid' varmint are laughing their rears off in Sulphur Well, retelling the time their ancestor played possum and outwitted the Annie Oakley of North Metcalfe after being killed - over and over and over and over - times ten , perpetuating another great tradition of Leftwich women to practice deja vu all over again and again and again. Somewhere in heaven, Daddy is still laughing, too. By Jane Todd Marcum When I came on to CM tonight, I did a search for new pictures of my new niece, Hailey Elizabeth. I also did a search on Mom's name to see the picture of her and another little niece, Tillie. In the results for Geniece Marcum, -Mama, aka Mema, Mamu, Great Mema, Dead-on Sure Shot, packs heat, usually to gun down snakes - there is a story about Addie Turner Leftwich (grandma) and how many times she sold her pig to great grandad Turner. It gave me a laugh because the Leftwich women seem to do a lot of things repeatedly without loss of ownership of said pig or death of a particular skunk. Anyone can just ask mom for the whole story about Daddy, Earl Reid Marcum asking her how many times she could kill a skunk. When I was eighteen, we were living in Sulphur Well and daddy was comfortable in his recliner one afternoon when mom came in and demanded the pistol from him. That got his attention. After she explained that there was a skunk waddling up the road in front of our driveway he gave her directions to the weapon. On her way out the front door, she further explained that the skunk would walk a bit, fall over, stagger back to his feet, walk a few feet and fall over again. She had watched the skunk for several minutes and was convinced he was rabid. Mom, being an excellent, dead-on shot, walked out the door took aim and fired. As I watched, the little skunk fell over, and I thought, well, that's that. However a few seconds passed he struggled to his feet and waddled on his journey again without a scratch let alone a bullet hole. She had not hit him but, she had surprised herself because she missed.I was in total shock because mom did not miss a target - ever. Marking it up to the stagger of the skunk being a bit of a hard target she aimed and fired again. But again he just waddled, fell, got up and waddled some more. Frustrated, mom shot every bullet in that pistol at the alleged rabid skunk. Still he continued his journey.Mad now, mom slammed through the old screen door of our farm house and demanded more bullets. Daddy, never raising an eyebrow, told her where they were. She reloaded and headed out the door again. Just as the old screen door was about to slam behind her, Daddy called out to her."Hey Mom, he said, Just how many times are you gonna kill that skunk?"A frustrated and confused mema snarled out an answer over her shoulder and continued on out the door slamming it just a bit harder than usual. There, she took aim and again shot every bullet at the skunk, and other than probably dulling his hearing from the whistling bullets, the skunk had now waddled and fallen repeatedly to the point that he was almost out of her range lest she follow him down the road toward the neighbors firing as they traveled. I have never seen Daddy laugh so hard at Mama being so mad and confused. She then decided she had suddenly lost the ability to ever shoot again or enjoy our pass time of target practice until daddy admitted that there was an ever so slight possibility that the sight on the gun was off and he couldn't hit the side of the barn with it either. I always figured daddy was a very lucky man after admitting that the sight was was, indeed, off on the gun that night, or he may well have taken the place of the doomed skunk for laughing so hard in her moment of defeat. So, not only can the Leftwich women sell the same pig repeatedly, they can kill a skunk repeatedly and the skunk can live to tell the story to his grand kids in Sulphur Well. There are probably skunks to this day who waddle past that house with one eye on the front door watching for that snake beating - skunk shooting (or not) little woman. - Jane Todd Marcum This story was posted on 2012-01-27 05:01:05
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