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On our first morning, over a breakfast of eggs, bacon, biscuits, and grits at the home of Donny's sister-in-law, Percy told Donnell and me what it was like for a black man to hunt in those parts 60 years ago: risky. If the game warden had ever caught him, he would've gotten a trip to jail and a serious beating, and his gun would've been confiscated.
Percy said he would go out only at night, taking the bulbs out of his taillights so the game warden couldn't see him braking.
Every winter, Donny and Donnell fly from Oregon to Mississippi to see Donny's in-laws, get together with other black outdoorsmen, and hunt the magnificent whitetail bucks that grow wide and tall in the soybean fields and backwoods down here.
The Adairs want you to know that, yes, black people in America do hunt, though they can seem as rare in the hook-and-bullet world as they do on ski slopes.
"As soon as you're looking down, sending a picture to your girl, that's when your deer pops up." He sent the picture. Donnell made the same trip last year but never got a chance to shoot his gun. I was on a hunting trip with Donnell and his father, Donny Adair, the founder and president of the African American Hunting Association, a Portland, Oregon–based group that promotes participation in outdoor sports through a Web site and a small-budget TV show.All afternoon we sat 20 feet above the ground, in a stand made of warped plywood and sliding windows taken off an old school bus.