told by Floyd Lewis Sr (1902-2000) written by Floyd Lewis Jr.
During the depression, most of the Lewis clan relied on venison to supplement what little beef they could afford on the wages of the times, and Floyd was one of the major suppliers. Daylight or dark, in season or out, he and Joe kept meat on several tables, many times just barely evading the game wardens. But on one occasion, someone had turned Floyd in, and an officer drove into the yard just at noon and handed Floyd a search warrant. Floyd studied the paper a moment, and then said, “My wife just put dinner on the table. Come and have lunch with us and then look around.” We all sat down to a meal of roast venison, beans, cornbread, and mustard greens Mom had gathered. Nothing else. The game officer ate heartily, including the venison roast, and I'm sure he took a good look at us three preschoolers as he ate. When he finished eating, he thanked Mom, and turning to Floyd he said, “Sure glad your premises were clean. Just had to take a look. Be careful.
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