Eating Turtles: An Anecdote from Eric Scott Sutherland

264 Replies

Last month, the Chevy Chaser and Southsider published an article I wrote about the 100th installment of the Holler Poets Series (click here for event info). For the article, I interviewed Eric Scott Sutherland during a slow night at Al’s Bar. I recorded our 45-minute conversation and later transcribed it.

Below is a story Eric told that I wanted to share. This story came up because I asked, “What got you into nature conservation?”

Eric Scott Sutherland, photo by Malinda O'Quinn

Eric at Holler 94 in March, 2016 photo by Malinda O’Quinn

“I like to think that we’re all born with that innate sense of our place in the natural world,” said Eric. “Our habitat. Certain factors can remove that place of distance between our realization of that and the reality of acknowledging it. But I think that writing about it, speaking about the things that happen to, ultimately, our habitat—that’s what pushes most of my creative spirit. And it has for a long time, since I was a little kid. I like to think that I was born with a certain innate awareness of nature and our habitat, but I was also exposed to it.”

“My grandparents had a farm. That’s where a lot of my experiences of self-discovery and, finding tiny frogs. And camping for the first time.

“Shelby County! My grandparents’ farm is on Pea Ridge Road. And Pea Ridge runs from Mount Eden over to Waddy. So, you’re familiar with Waddy if you’ve traveled 64. The famous Waddy-Peytona exit. If you go south of 64, it’s at the very southern end of Shelby County, is where their farm was. As all Kentuckian’s say, “God’s Country”. Heh. Wherever you are is “God’s country”. Which is true. I think Wendell Berry said it—I’ll probably butcher it. And also, Black Elk (one of my favorite inspirations, who is a Lakota Indian)… Basically I’ll just sum up both of them, I won’t try to quote either one. But the summation is that ‘wherever you stand is the center of the universe’. This is the holy land, Bronson!” Eric slams his finger into the table, pointing down. “Me and you are in it! Right now!”

“Well,” I said, pointing at a sign behind the bar, “this is the ‘best bar in the universe’.”

“See?” He nodded. “Convergence. The idea that wherever we are is a sacred place.

“So I don’t know. To answer your question all over the place, I don’t know. I was lucky that I had access to the woods—a farm with woods on it—so that I could make those discoveries and gain an appreciation for it. You know. The horrors and the beauties of it. Seeing a snapping turtle walk around the yard with no head for 24 hours is pretty tripped-out when you’re a kid. But you also ate the turtle later. So you gained an appreciation for that.

“And my papaw, he’d fish for them with milk jugs. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of that or seen it. But he had several ponds on his farm. Three, maybe four. And he’d put those milk jugs out. Bait ’em. And they’d try to estimate the depth of the pond ‘cause they’re hanging out at the bottom with bait on ’em. Come check them out in a few days. Got a turtle, pull it in.”

Once again, a special thanks goes to Eric Scott Sutherland for the interview, but just as importantly, thank you, Eric, for Holler.