Turkey shoot a holiday tradition, with no ruffled feathers
AWAKE FOREST, NC. (AP) — The Raleigh Moose Family Center Türkiye Shooting continues with the sound of a shotgun. But fear not: No eaters were harmed while making this holiday fun.
“The real misconception is they think we shoot live turkeys here,” says Glen Coplen, former governor and current shell distributor of the Loyal Order of Moose Raleigh Lodge 1318. “We don’t.”
Three nights a week from late October through Christmas, muzzle flashes and fire pits illuminate the darkness as shooters compete for cash, ribs, ham and, yes, turkey.
“This is a fun turkey shoot,” Coplen says. “There’s a lot of competitive turkey shooting out there, but it’s a charity event.”
While there is no official nationwide count, events like this have been holiday staples for generations of sportsmen’s clubs and veterans’ missions across the country.
“Türkiye tenders are as American as Boston baked beans and brown bread or corn poke and pork belly,” read an article in the November 1953 issue of American Rifleman magazine. “The name ‘turkey shoot’ evokes the image of a forest clearing on the edge of a frontier settlement where men in buckskins compete with those living in settlement houses.”
These events once involved live turkeys. In his 1823 book “The Pioneers,” James Fenimore Cooper describes a shooting in which the bird was “tied with a rope to the base of a large pine trunk” and shooters fired from a distance of 100 yards (91.44 meters).
Today’s competitors target clay pigeons or, more often, paper targets. At Lodge 1318, No. 8 shot is used, fired from a distance of 63 yards (58 metres).
“It doesn’t matter how many pellets you have,” says Coplen. “The pellet closest to the center will win.”
On this chilling December night, he needs a plot to decide the champion in a few rounds.
“This is going to be tough,” he says as he guides the target under an illuminated magnifying glass.
Entrance fee is $5 per tour. Proceeds go to various charities, including a large Thanksgiving meal for area seniors and an “angel tree” surrounded by Christmas gifts for children in need.
But the shooters don’t go empty-handed either.
Tammie Smith, whose boyfriend introduced her to the sport a few years ago, took home two prizes: a roast packet filled with vegetables and a “breakfast packet” consisting of sausages, a dozen eggs, biscuits and jelly.
“Sometimes I donate what I win, sometimes I share it with the family,” he says, with a trinket made from the caps of the first shotgun bullets he won, hanging from his left ear. “So, it’s a good time.”
Roger Jones drove 45 minutes to take part in the shoot and won Butterball for his efforts.
“It’s so much fun,” he says, holding the bird by its plastic net. “It’s something I’ve done with my dad and my brothers, you know, since we were all little kids.”
12-year-old Mick Wysocky won some money two days ago but came up empty-handed tonight.
“I recently joined,” says Moose, putting on his sweatpants. “I haven’t actually been shooting that long and it’s been a pretty good experience.”
Lodge 1318 turkey shooting has been a bit of a challenge to maintain.
Urban sprawl, once tightly bound to farmland, is pervasive. The only thing separating the shooting range from a large subdivision is a shot-scarred wooden wall and an earthen embankment.
Lodge members distribute brochures to the neighborhood at the beginning of each season. The county noise ordinance allows them to film until 11 p.m., but they stop at 10 o’clock as a courtesy to their neighbors.
“They’re very used to it now,” says Coplen. “We have had no complaints all year or last year.”
So far they have managed to prevent their property from being annexed to a city that bans the discharge of firearms. But with the pace of development, Coplen wonders how long they can continue this beloved rural tradition.
“You know, we might lose it one day,” he says as cars whiz by on busy U.S. Route 401. “We wouldn’t want that, but it’s just a fact of life.”
