William Huey Grant (Jerry) Mercier
May 5, 1941 - January 14, 2002

He and I worked together as hunting guides and also as plumbers in the late 'sixties and early 'seventies. And as my running mate, he was a man on whom I could trust and depend for many of our adventures. We traveled the country around Chapleau, and up to the top of Superior, and out to the outskirts of Foleyet, and all-l-l-l-l the bush in between. We worked as a team in both guide and plumber roles, and we had a good time at it.

As guides we often had adventures that few others experience. We tracked bears into the night, hunted moose together, cared for our clients and showed them parts of the country where few others have been. We tried to create experience. Some of the episodes were close to life threatening, others, downright funny.

In one case, while trailing a client's bear for some two hours, we found that when we met up with that bear, almost eye to eye, the client's gun and ammunition did not match up. In retrospect, the scene that day must have been something to watch as we came to the realization that we were technically 'in danger', and should immediately put some distance between ourselves and the bear. We learned that day to "Never assume..." And "Always play it safe..." Good lessons.

Late one evening, at Prairie Bee Lake, Jerry,myself and my brothers found a Skunk under one of the cabins. We has always heard that if you could pick a Skunk up by his tail, he could not spray... It seemed that this was an ideal time to test this old tale... A lot of improvising and planning soon saw the brothers and Jerry outside with a long pole and snare rig searching for the Skunk. With the help of a flashlight, Jerry was able to snare the Skunk's tail, and in a quick swoop, the skunk was lifted into the air.. Seconds later, the heavy green haze in the air, our tears, and our gasps for clean air proved that the claim was indeed false. Skunks can still spray when lifted by the tail. That evening taught us... "Not everything one hears is truth..." and that some real understanding is better than plain ol' trial and error. It also taught us to laugh at ourselves for being so silly... and also that it is very difficualt to sleep in a cabin with a bunch of guys who smell like skunks...

Another autumn morning saw myself and my brothers out on a set, calling moose. We had been there an hour before sun-up and had made one Cow-call. When you call for moose, you have to be patient... and we were...

At about 6:30 a.m. just as the sky was showing some hint of light, we heard the Bull.. not far... We were into the hunt.. some minutes later, we tried again.. and soon the Bull responded... the sequences were repeated every twenty minutes or so, until about eight thirty... until we heard some muffled voices in the same direction as the bull... then a rustle, and out from behind some bushes appeared Jerry and William White... it took only seconds to realize we had both been hunting the other... The lesson at that time was "Always play it safe.. Always know what you are hunting before you even think of your firearm."

Another time, at a First of July celebration, Jerry and I entered a canoe race. Both of us being quite familiar with canoes, the skuttlebutt in the audience favoured our team over the six or so other canoes that were set to compete... We felt we had the game in the bag, and that it was going to be a 'shoe-in'...

The starting pistol fired, the canoes hit the water, and the teams positioned themselves and began to paddle. Our first strokes put us in the lead, and I moved to pull more water with the next strokes... and pull I did, my paddle reaching deep, and down, catching itself under then canoe,and rolling us smoothly into the drink... Below the surface, and in the large bubbles, I was sure I heard some sounds that were directed to me for my ineptness... We surfaced to the laughs and catcalls of the crowd.... Our lessons that day... "Pride cometh before a fall..." ; "Don't take yourself too seriously", and "Laugh at yourself once in a while.." We dragged ourselves to the shore, laughed it off, and called it a day...

Jerry could also be quiet, and a good listener. And on one trip to Manitowadge we over-nited in White River. I was going through some personal difficulties, and Jerry's ears helped me put things into perspective, and made me realize that each of us is only human... no more... no less... And after a while, in Jerry's own style of communication, with his overly-dramatic manner of speech, his smiles, and his sparkling eyes, and with his way of rubbing his hands together as if he had just come in from the cold, he wrapped up my troubles and tossed them into the air to be carried away by the wind.... We stood silently, then chuckled, then laughed.... and then we carried on to Manitouwadge...

Jerry, we had some good times... say hello to your dad, say hello to your mom... say hello to my grampa and gramma, and my dad too... and we'll all hunt again in what will seem to be only a few moments from now...

Lark Ritchie... Porcupine, ON

Then there was the story of Jerry and myself. Again with the skunk thing. Obviously we were out to prove or disprove all skunk folklore.
There was one belief that skunks could not spray until they were of a certain age.
Well, the story goes like this.....Jerry and I were on a bear-baiting run and we came across a single "baby Skunk". Jerry quickly pulled the truck off the road and said to me, "I'm going to get that skunk and bring it back to camp". Although, I have heard of the "young skunk" story as well, I must say I would not have had the courage to see if it were true. I watched Jerry get out of the truck and go within 3 feet of the skunk. He then turned around and got back into the truck. As he started the truck, I said to him "Did ya chicken out". He replied,"Yup". Then as we rolled on down the road I could smell a distinct, recognizable sweet and sickening odour. I looked at Jerry and said, "He sprayed you didn't he". Jerry replied "YUP"'

Allan Ritchie, Lively, Ontario.