So my Ol' Man hated snakes about like I do and was known to be pretty fair with a 5-Iron in chopping their heads off. The 5 has the best angle.   It was one of his earliest golf lessons to me as snakes were pretty common along the fifth hole down by the creek.

So one day a few years before he married and post WWII he and his buddy Dick drive up to Fort Wayne to see Dick's parents who had recently moved their for some reason beyond my personal comprehension. Ever been to Fort Wayne? Yeah.......that's about it............Anyway, they arrive and walk up the driveway between beautiful flower beds, Dick's Dad being an avid gardener. Having gone only a few feet they see a snake. My Dad runs back to the car (a '47 Olds) and gets a 5-Iron out of his bag in the trunk. He no sooner kills this snake when another appears and then another! First thing you know, he and Dick are killing snakes right and left.

Their shouts of "Here's another one," and "Christ they're all over the place," are heard by Dick's father who runs out screaming, "YOU'RE KILLING MY SNAKES!!!!" Avid gardener that he was, he had imported as many garter snakes as possible to kill the bugs and these guys were wiping out his pest killers. He explained all this to them and both Dick and my dad apologized and felt bad about it. Years later Dad would occasionally tell this tale but you always knew by the look in his eyes that bug eaters or not, to the Ol' Man, the only good snake was a dead snake.

Spaw