The Patriarch: A Background for the Blog

In this blog I will attempt to explain my hunting heritage and the reason I began and learned to love hunting and the outdoors. It begins in Northern Minnesota with a man named Wilfred Lobb, born 1930. Wilfred built up the family farm with his wife Siama Rachel and their seven children. He passionately worked the farm and their logging business. Wilfred was a dynamic storyteller--the best, if you ask me. Hunting and fishing were as much of a past time as they were a part of survival in those early days. The “hunting shack,” back in the boonies, was a favorite place to hunt and spend time.

      Today we have the unpleasant experience of seeing the deterioration of the family. Unfortunately, many children grow up not having supportive parents who neither love them or each other, causing the Patriarch to become a rare phenomenon. 

The Patriarch is the one head of a family or clan. More than a father to his family, the Patriarch is honored and looked up to by his family, his children’s family, and his children’s children’s families. Not unlike Patriarchs in the Bible, he is the leader, storyteller, and rock of his clan. I was very blessed to grow up in the family I did. And not only that, I was blessed to live the first 22 years of my life with the influence a Patriarch--my hero, Grandpa Lobb.

Grandpa took all his grandchildren under his wing and showed us love in his own way. His example, his stories told, and the stories we lived together have greatly shaped who I am today. I grew up living 4 hours from the family farm and looked forward to the frequent trips to “the farm,” which was a 600+ acreage in northern Minnesota.
     For example, one day while I was watching him butcher a deer he looked up at me and asked if I had a knife. I told him I didn’t because I was too little. “That is nonsense; every boy needs a good knife!” he exclaimed. He gave me my first knife, which I was ecstatic about! But my knife was unlike other knives; it had a grandpa modification. He had cut the blade off it and said, “You’ve got to prove that you are responsible with this one, and then we’ll see about a better one.” I still have that knife handle.
    Another time my family was about to head home from the farm. Grandpa hated goodbyes and was usually busy cutting hay or a similar activity when it came time for us to leave, but for some reason he was around this time. I was standing by the van and Grandpa walked over and asked, “Do you have anything in your pockets?” I had no idea why that would matter, so I responded with a simple “nope.” Grandpa immediately exclaimed, “What! Every boy needs his pockets full of stuff. What if you get in a jam?” I’d never realized it, but if Grandpa said so, then I must have really been foolish not to do so. “Come with me to the shop, and we’ll fix that problem,” he said. So we walked into “the shop,” where every tool you would ever need for fixing anything could be found. He proceeded to cut off about three feet of bailing twine, and then he grabbed a few nails, a bolt, a nut, a washer, and stuffed them into my pocket. “Now you’re ready to go,” he said. I don’t know why, of all my outings with Grandpa, that that memory has stuck with me so strongly. But that one is burned into my memory, and I can feel Grandpa’s love every time I remember that story. I can’t wait for the day when, Lord willing, I can do that for my little tyke, too.

Hunting and fishing were truly a influential part of Grandpa's life, and I have followed his lead. My love for deer hunting, especially, has grown to what it is today because of that. Every hunt, every deer, is not only a challenge and fun within itself, but it is also a tribute to my hero, Grandpa Lobb.

My first deer, while sitting with my dad, was shot off the “southeast corner stand” (built in the corner of “the back 40” watching the fence lines) on Grandpa’s farm. He told me it was beginner’s luck. That night I shot another buck. He then proceeded to tell everybody that two bucks on your first day was not luck; “He’s a regular Daniel Boone,” he told them. That’s a big name to live up to, but I loved every second of it.