Dan Ladd: Finally, a birthday buck nearly five decades in the making

The first time I ever went deer hunting with the family hunting party in the Adirondacks was the day of my 10th birthday. On that mid-November Sunday morning in the mid-1970s, my mom bundled me up like Randy in A Christmas Story, (you know, the tick about to pop) and half-way through a three-quarter-mile-walk following my older brother Bill, I was just about done.
But our Uncle Duff, the patriarch of the hunting party at that time, shot a spike horn on that deer drive, the last he would ever tie a tag to.

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