It might've just been the hottest day of the summer in 1897. Running a farm wasn't as simple as most folks put it, especially when your only farm hand was your son.

“Pa,” Judah calls out, carrying in a large sack of chicken feed on his shoulder before dropping on the ground by the chicken coop.

“When will you take me out huntin’?” He said, without looking up. He proceeds to wipe the dirt from his hands onto his clothes.

“Maybe, shoot a gun?”

He was a good kid, hard-working, but only when you didn't ask him to be. The truth was, you didn't trust him enough to take him anywhere, especially with a gun. He can be reckless, and stubborn.