- Opening Day, couldn’t sleep, not going hunting, then my phone rang.
- Four days earlier, Bonnie posted, “It’s with a heavy heart that my father, Robert Jensen, has passed on peacefully in comfort.
- After watching grouse, a buck fawn rubbing her ladder, the silence of the woods grew sudden. Through her tears, she sees evidence of a good shot. My father was with me, somehow, and it was beautiful.
By Forrest Fisher
A few months back, another military veteran and I had the pleasure and honor to share fishing time as a guest of Captain Dan Bognar and his first mate, Bonnie Jensen, during the WNY Heroes Fishing Event in Dunkirk Harbor. We caught many fish, laughed, and shared talks from the old days when fishing went modern in the 1980s. We talked about old and new lures, firearms, hunting, and friendships that form because of the outdoors. It was an unforgettable day. Isn’t that something special about outdoors folks?
This past weekend for Bonnie Jensen was also unforgettable and tells a story about the lasting emotional impact of her father’s love for his daughter and the sport they cherished together—an unbreakable bond for their passion for hunting.
On the opening weekend of NYS’s regular big game hunting season this year (last weekend), Bonnie shared her love through her grief, “I could not bring myself to go hunting yesterday without my father’s phone call to tell me to ‘shoot straight baby girl.’ I have received that call every opening day… until that day.”
Bonnie lightheartedly shared that she was casually encouraged by that call for her entire hunting life, and that call made her go. That morning, her friend, Dan, called her instead and urged her to get out there. In reflection, her words to Dan were these, “Thank you for making me!” Bonnie unabashedly admits that she couldn’t sleep the night before opening day, not because of the excitement of the hunt, but because she knew that a phone call from Dad was not coming. She got up and had her cup of coffee but says she could feel her father “scolding me because I was not in my stand before daylight.”
But for his honor and thanks for that call from Dan, Bonnie got dressed, grabbed her gun, and walked to her stand. She loaded a couple of bullets into her gun (Ruger M77, 30-06) and kissed the round she put in the chamber. Bonnie had almost reached her stand and realized she had no backpack or radio. She shrugged and decided she didn’t need them that day. She just needed to be there.
Settled in, Bonnie started to doze off, listening to the birds and the squirrels. Then shake, shake, shake – her tree stand was moving. Bonnie shares the next few moments in her own words, “I freeze. I look with my eyes and not my head and see a foster fawn that lost his mama. He is scratching his shoulder on my ladder. Unreal. He doesn’t have a care in the world. I was so happy to see “little Herbie,” and he grew up with some little button spikes on his head. Ok, I’m awake now.”
Not only does Bonnie see the fawn, but she hears a drumming sound. So, she says, “I just listen and continue to hear the drumming and cooing. My father’s favorite bird was the ruffed grouse, yet we don’t have a grouse population where I am hunting. Suddenly, a grouse has appeared. Unreal. Its coo is the most beautiful sound. I’d never heard it in person until that moment. Suddenly, the grouse flew down, coming in from behind me and started doing his strut. Then, not far away, I saw a flash of white and four or five more grouse flew down. My heart and soul were happy. I talked to my dad in spirit.” Bonnie didn’t need that walkie-talkie after all.
In a few moments, Bonnie realized her hunting situation was not ideal as a right-hand shooter. She needed to turn her head slowly and saw the little buck that had woken her from slumber moments earlier. A little beyond, another buck, bigger, just watching. To her dismay, she did not even remotely have a shot, given her position. As good hunters do, she expertly analyzed her options and realized she did indeed have a 2-foot window where she could shoot if he would walk in that direction. In her scope, she watched him (yep, she had forgotten her bino’s, too). She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, talkied with her dad a moment in silent meditastion, and opened them again. To her astonishment, the deer was there in her scope!
Bonnie recounts the next few moments while holding her breath, “I squeezed the trigger and knew I made a good shot. I racked another bullet, and he’s gone. I wait, get my wits about me, and come down from my stand.” To her heart’s content, the grouse family is still waiting there. She walks to where she thought she hit the buck and sees nothing. She feels crushed and goes to where she noted ground scuff. She dropped to her knees and cried. The week and this morning had been a flurry of emotions. Through her tears, she sees evidence of a good shot. Rejuvenated, she just to find him. With her .40 on her hip, she began a short journey to where she found the ground and trees that were painted red 20 yards from the hit sight. And then she saw him. A beautiful buck. She walked carefully and got closer. Bonnie said, “I gave him a drink of water and thanked him. I’ve never in my life been so emotional over a moment, ever!”
Four days earlier, Bonnie posted, “It’s with a heavy heart that my father, Robert Jensen, has passed on peacefully in comfort. He battled cancer well, but he succumbed. I know he doesn’t want to be remembered for his cancer, he would want to be remembered for his love of the outdoors and his family.” Bonnie thanked everyone for their thoughts and prayers on his behalf and her family.
Bonnie said this past weekend – opening day weekend in the southern zone of New York State, “My father was with me, somehow, and it was beautiful. I wouldn’t change it for the world. Thank you, Dad, Robert Jensen. And thank you Dan, for pushing me into the woods.”
Bonnie Jensen’s father’s love for the outdoors, and for her, is a legacy that will live forever in Bonnie’s heart. She, and many others, will remember such special moments that remain everlasting in the whispers of the wild and silence of the woods.
This past weekend, we marked four supermoons in a row. The woods seemed so quiet, yet alive with extraordinary silence.
The sacred sanctuary of the woods is a forever connection for many. Me too. Thanks to my dad and many of us who can say the same. Thank you, Lord.
Thanks for sharing your story, Bonnie Jensen. God bless.