On an only semi related note, it had been years since I'd seen anyone still boot-legging lead when the gentleman on the right, then well into his 80s:
was having gun trouble on that, his last, September teal hunt, and I traded him my 20 for the recalcitrant 12. TJ was a wealthy oil man who'd located his company in our area largely for its fine duck hunting, so I was a bit surprised to find he was shooting what appeared a Western Auto, or some such, pump with 2 3/4" chambering lacking enough port length to eject the 3" shells he was feeding it. Would have been even more surprised to find those 3" shells were lead 7 1/2s if I hadn't hunted TJ enough to know the cantankerous old cuss didn't believe in letting the feds, or much of anyone else, tell him what to do.
Then came the flash of instant karma. We shot our limits in short order, and I was in the pond shutting off the spinners when "BANG!" was followed immediately by "SPLASH!" Limits be damned, the old pirate couldn't resist taking a fortunately errant crack at a buzzing teal and fell on his butt in the edge of the pond. Told him it was God squaring things for all the birds he'd outlawed over the years.
Can post that photo without fear of cyber spying greenjeans, because they'd have to dig him up to prosecute. And am doing so because, despite being on opposite sides of the management fence, I miss he and several others I've known like him.