The Bradford Era

Ken let out a whoop. “You see that shot, Art?! "Boy's a natural, chip off the old block!” Pop looked at me, his eyes shining with pride. I felt 10 fee...

The young have a tendency to be know-it-alls, but also are desperate to find their way. Two contradictions for sure. Lost, so to speak, in this growin...

It seems amazing interceptor missiles today zip along at Mach 8, leaving the speed of sound far behind. I have difficulty in comprehending speeds that...

For some reason decreed in the cosmos, many of my closest and most beloved relations have passed away just months short of Christmas. The departure of...

My grandfather gave me a single-shot 12-gauge when I was 14. Lightweight, with a straight stock, it kicked like a mule, but I loved it deeply. After a...

One thing our area abounds in is large tracts of forested land. However, clear cuts, gated roads and tree stands have limited the number of hunters th...

This year was certainly a study in contrasts. During spring gobbler season a day seldom went by without rain. I was heartily sick of the rain after 2 ...

Thanksgiving, from my earliest memories, has always been one of color, food and family. My grandfather and grandmother, Art and Bertha Hayes, had four...

Back when I was much younger, factory ammunition more often than not left something to be desired when it came to accuracy. Col. Townsend Whelen’s fam...