I first met Turtle in the summer of 1999, and immediately liked him. I suspect it was that way with most everyone who met him. He could be quite colorful, even rowdy at times, but under it all he was a kind, considerate individual with a huge heart and a deep passion for the things he loved. I was fortunate to call him a friend and brother reenactor. I have many memories of Turtle, but two stand out. The first was at the Red River Rifle Frolic in Tennessee around 2000. I was crossing a very small bridge, built over a gully some 9' deep and 16' wide, that had been crafted from two poplar logs with planks nailed across them. It might have been 18 inches across at the widest point, and about eight feet out took a sharp bend to the left. As I was cautiously making my way across the narrow , shaky bridge, I looked down to the right and saw Turtle carefully searching thru the stinging nettles that lined the bottom of the gully.

I asked what he was searching for. He said he had lost his nose ring. He went on to tell me he had been out visiting the previous night and on making his way back to camp had missed the turn in the middle of the bridge, fallen, and had hit the bottom of the gully so hard it had knocked his nose ring out. About an hour later he came strolling back into camp with his prized silver nose ring back in place, and a huge smile on his face.

The next was at Ft. Boonesborough at the 2007 Siege. I was portraying Boone for the first time at the fort. At the beginning of the reenactment, when the Natives are initially spotted and the women and children were hurried inside, I was the last to enter as the fort doors were being closed. I turned to face the doors just in time to see Turtle run thru the closing gap. We stood there face to face for a moment, and I ask, Turtle, what.......are you doing? In his usual congenial manner, he smiled, put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Doc, some of us were going to rush the fort. Looks like everyone else turned back!" We shared a short laugh, and I said "I think you are outnumbered in here, you might want to make a hasty exit", and I pushed one of the doors open enough for him to slip back thru, and off he went in his unique Turtle stride. That was the last reenactment I was to see him at.

I shared many happy times with Turtle, he was one of kind, and I will miss him deeply.

from Melanie Kuntz

Here's my first memory of Turtle, and I have told this story many times.

It was my first time actually camping at a reenactment (Pigeon Roost). Of course, I was in awe of Turtle because he looked so "right" and just durned scary. Frankly, I was totally intimidated by him. I was introduced around to the crowd and when the introductions came to Turtle he said I looked familiar. Someone piped up that I was a probation officer and he said "In Kentucky? That is probably how I know you!" I said I actually worked in Indiana and he said "well then I'm glad to know you for the future!"

About an hour later Turtle and Rick Geary were sitting not too far away from me, in fact we were all sharing the shade of the same tree. Rick had made quite a production of showing around his brand-new-totally-period-correct-cup and we had all passed it around and admired it. Rick said "Turtle, I am going to the bathroom, watch my cup, keep the ants off of it". Several minutes after Rick had walked away I noticed Turtle sitting quietly starring at the cup. Then suddenly he raised up his war club high above his head, bringing it down soundly on Rick's cup and proceeded to beat it to smithereens. I sat there dumbfounded. I am sure my mouth was hanging open and for a split second I thought "get up and run girl, your head could be next!" No one said a word and I honestly by that point was scared stiff and couldn't move. I knew we were all just playing, but everyone who knew Turtle knows that he could look fierce when he was "on".

When Rick came sauntering back into camp he didn't notice anything at first, then after awhile said "hey were's my cup...." and stopped midsentence as he looked down at the flattened remains which were lying at Turtle's feet. Rick's face went totally white and for a moment I thought he was going to cry. He just looked at Turtle and said "what the bleep happened here?" Turtle looked him straight in the eye and said "there was an ant on it". Rick proceeded to berate Turtle and his reply was "don't ever ask me to be your slave....just another attempt by a white man to keep the red man down".

Of course now looking back I can see the humor in all of this and can't think of this memory of Turtle without laughing, but at the time I thought "okay, this is my first and LAST reenactment, these people are crazy!" He was a wonderful guy who always made me feel welcome in camp, continued to scare the bejesus out of me on the field, the first guy I ever saw actually bleed for reenacting and the first guy I ever saw actually draw blood from another reenactor (play hard, win hard!) and who I will remember fondly as one of the first friends I made in reenacting.

Turtle with friends Jack Luttrell and Rick Geary relaxing at the low key civic event at Pigeon Roost in Lexington, IN

Not to be outdone Rick Geary later “smashes Turtle to smithereens!”