In 1984 I lost a good friend who was shot by another experienced turkey hunter in the Sumter National forest near NWTF headquarters in Edgefield, SC. Though only the two of them were in there, I know what happened - Wilson was a heck of a voice gobbler and the guy snuck up on him. By that time Wilson had taken a break and was smoking a cigarette, the other guy saw movement, the flash of white and bang. Wilson lived two days before succumbing to massive brain injuries. Hell with the beard - if I can't identify a turkey's EYES I don't shoot! I can always buy a **** bird. There's not a time I pass that little country church with the graveyard around it that I don't think of him. He was good, in a lot of ways.