William “Billy” McKinnon
My Great Uncle Clint Lydick (1931-2021) loved, LOVED to tell stories. Uncle Clint would have celebrated his 91st birthday this month. So, in honor of him, I begin a new sub-category called
Stories my Uncle Clint Told
Back in 2007, Uncle Clint typed up his memories and stories. I was lucky enough to snag from him a copy ten years ago. Within that narrative, Uncle Clint talked about visiting the Cass Lake Cemetery and reminiscing about one of his dad’s (Horace S. “H.S.” Lydick’s‘) friends.
Listen and you will hear Uncle Clint:
“Dad was a great talker. He had dozens of stories, mostly about hunting that he would tell over and over again. Many people who heard the stories thought that Dad was just full of Bull. The problem with that is that he could perform, and did. I have been with him on many, many occasions when I have seen him perform feats of marksmanship that are just incredible. And these things were not just lucky shots or one-time deals. He repeated them, over and over.
He claimed that Billy McKinnon was a far better marksman than himself. I have wished many times that Mr. McKinnon had lived a long life so that I could have known him.”
William R. “Billy” McKinnon
“The big thing about Billy McKinnon was that Dad always maintained that Billy was the best marksman, rifle, shotgun or pistol that Dad ever knew. Coming from my Dad, that is a really meaningful statement. Chiefly because Dad himself was considered, by people who would know, to be one of the finest marksmen, ever.”
H.S. Lydick and Billy McKinnon were hunting partners, hunting for the market before they both became Forest Rangers. The phrase “hunting for the market” means that they would hunt for any game that they could find and bring the meat back to town and sell it. In those early days, there weren’t enough farms around to supply the residents with meat, so there were “market” hunters.
Market Hunting
“Dad and Billy were hunting on foot somewhere east of Cass Lake. They had Billy’s dog, a .22 rifle, and a hand axe. Dad had the axe and Billy had the rifle.
They jumped a small deer, and the dog ran it down and caught it. The men ran up to the critters, intending for Dad to dispatch the deer with the axe. But, the dog thought he was in trouble for attacking the deer, so he let it go.
The deer ran straight away from them. Billy aimed the rifle, but didn’t shoot.
Finally, after the deer had gotten quite a ways away, Billy fired and the deer dropped.
Dad asked him why in the Hell he didn’t shoot sooner.
Billy’s answer was that he sure wasn’t going to shoot that deer in the rear end and ruin any meat. So he waited for the deer to turn a bit so that he could hit it in the head. That is marksmanship.” [emphasis in the original]
Uncle Clint recalled that he didn’t know anyone who was confident enough in their ability to try a shot like that. But, according to H.S., Billy McKinnon made those kinds of shots as a matter of course. All the time.
The Bemidji (MN) Daily Pioneer, May 12,1905, Page 3
The Minneapolis (MN) Journal, July 21, 1906, Page 3
William R. “Billy” McKinnon died January 4, 1910 in Denver, Colorado; his young life was cut short by cancer. He is buried in the Pine Grove Cemetery in Cass Lake, Minnesota.