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SOUTHERN OUTDOORS, July 1, 1946
IN
GOLD FOR “THE RANGER”—This last photo of Ranger Arthur Woody was made
in November, 1946, in the Woody Gap schoolyard. It shows C. K. Spaulding, supervisor
of the Chattahoochee National Forest, pinning a gold honorary ranger’s badge on
Woody. In the group are former associates of the famous ranger, including: Ted Seely,
Jerry Lethcoe, Crawford DuPree, Fritz Olander, Ed Reese, Charles Sheets and Jerry
Welch.
Have fun on your
Vacation .... i
cool, comfortable
sport clothes from
/
The Style Center of the South
Woody Buried
Continued from Page 1
the time of his death had a col
lection of fine weapons.
Once a hunter who took his
share of turkeys and deer, the
Ranger later became so interested
in restocking the forests with
whitetails that he disliked seeing
a buck taken by anyone. But he
was every inch a true sportsman
and showed numerous riflemen
stands from which they took tro
phy heads on supervised hunts in
the Blue Ridge Management Area.
RECOVERED TWICE
Six months before he died,
Woody was only a shadow of the
250-pound man who roamed the
hills in any kind of weather. He
partially recovered twice from se
vere heart attacks that would have
counted out anyone with less stam
ina and determination.
Life was not worth living to
V/oody if it couldn’t be in his be
loved mountains. Friends once
suggested that he go to Florida
for his health.
“Me go down there and drink
wiggle-tail water ? Whut’s the
use,to live if it can’t be up here?”
With the Ranger gone, Woody
Gap and North Georgia will never
be the same to hundreds of hunt
ers and fishermen, who agree that
tnere was only one Arthur Woody
and there’ll never be another in
this or any other generation.
Kirby Catches
4-Pound Brown
ROCK CREEK, Ga.—A 4-pound
brown trout, largest of the season
in Georgia, was taken here last
week by Howard Kirby of Dial.
The trout was 20 inches long and
fell for a gob of lowly red worms.
Game . . . Ranger Arthur Woody
Continued from Page 1
For Worship and Education
Woody’s influence and kindliness reached beyond the boundaries of
the forest. Legend are the stories of a helping hand he gave to his
neighbors in need. His generosity was always so matter of fact, so
casual that many times it did not dawn on one until later what a fine
deed the Ranger had done.
His thinking was basic. He knew the need of community worship
and education, and he helped build a church and a school. He took
part in the Easter Sunrise Services held annually at Woody Gap. He
worked to bring the mountains away from Indian trails to paved and
gravel roads.
Underneath it all, his first love was the wilderness and the crea
tures of the wilderness. I have driven with him slowly over a moun
tain road, while he pointed out where a big buck slid down the em
bankment, where a gobbler had made V-scratches in leaves beyond
the tire tracks. I’ve never seen him more indignant than when we
found where two wildcats had pulled down a fawn in the snow. He
made it a personal issue between himself and the cats until they came
to a sudden and untimely end.
Joins Vanishing Race of Pioneers
For the last 10 years of his life with the Forest Service, Arthur
Woody looked forward to retiring, to'spending the remainder of his
days in the woods and on the streams of his district.
“I know the big trout by name,” he said, “and I’ll have to be smart
to get ’em on a hook.”
The years of hard existence took their toll. He was a tired old
man when the government retired him after 30 years of active service.
He had given his life to something that he himself would never be
able to enjoy.
He has gone on to join a vanishing race of pioneers. He left behind
the singing streams, the beauty of his forests, the solitudes of an
earthly wilderness which were his for so short a span of years.
A Celestial Flyrod for the Ranger
If there is a divine compensation for the toil and privations of an
uncertain physical existence, I know that the Creator has hidden away
a happy hunting and fishing ground somewhere in a cranny of His
heaven. It is a land for fellows like Arthur Woody. There are deer
and turkey and squirrels and there’ll be a grouse drumming on the
hill. (
In His infinite wisdom and justice, the Big Boss has already
handed Arthur a celestial flyrod and line, with an amazing assortment
of flies. There are big trout in the bend of the river and for the re
mainder of all eternity the old Ranger will be thinking of ways to
outwit them.
With all my heart, I hope it is true and that Arthur Woody’s just
reward will be forever instead of for just a little while.