Hey Grandma! Guess What Followed Me Home: Recollecting a 'deer' childhood memory

Date published: 5/6/2008

REDNECKS, trailer parks and views of endless mountains immediately come to mind at the mention of southern West Virginia.

Gigantic trucks and ATVs own the roads, and there's a Larry-the-Cable-Guy around every corner. No one would ever suspect that one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life could take place there.

The small town of Chapmanville, W. Va., doesn't have much to offer. A Dairy Queen and Wendy's make up the extent of Saturday night entertainment, and you can actually learn to tell time by listening for the train that runs through the middle of town. But it was always my favorite place to be, growing up, simply because it meant freedom.

It was on one visit with my best friend, Keely, and cousin, Zak, that the coolest experience of my life began. It started out normally enough; Keely had come over, and eventually, Zak came up in conversation, so we decided to go visit him. As third-graders with not-quite-summertime weather outside, we were bored to tears with Keely's pool--unavailable until summer. So, naturally, we went.

An hour (and two frazzled, fighting friends) later, we were on Zak's trampoline, trying to wear ourselves out. The sudden barking of Zak's dogs echoed through the woods, and we all jumped at the unexpected sound. The hounds were on the hunt and giving chase to what looked like a terrified doe.

We all gave each other a very "What the heck?" look, shrugged, and continued on our quest to self-exhaustion. I don't know how much time passed, but eventually, I happened to glance over at Zak's driveway, and there stood the deer from the chase, who'd somehow given the dogs the slip. I vaguely remember stopping my two friends. A staring contest ensued between us and the animal. Ironically, this time, we were the "deer in the headlights."

I don't remember whose brilliant idea it was to cup our hands as if we had food for the animal. But the next thing I knew, a deer was licking the salt from my palms, and letting us stroke its face and neck.

We somehow managed to slide off the trampoline without spooking it, and we turned to walk back to my grandparents' house. To our surprise, it followed us all the way there and into the front yard. After we locked the gates in my grandparents' fence, the animal calmly flopped down in the grass. We rushed inside to tell my grandmother.

Well, seeing is believing--and that's exactly what it took for her to believe a deer followed us home. She brought out a bowl of water and a fruit salad, and we happily supplied the Cheetos from our lunch to feed it.

Of course, the deer made its great escape that afternoon. But we managed to get a photo of part of the experience. The picture still resides in a frame on a desk at my grandparents' current house, and serves as a reminder of that wonderful experience.

Jessica Casteel is a senior at Chancellor High School.

Date published: 5/6/2008

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