When I was younger, I was walking down by a creek on my grandfather's farm. My father was standing on the footbridge looking down and chatting idly with me. A tall clump of grass parted as I walked by and a huge, fat, gray mother water moccasin with a nest of babies was reared up to strike at my exposed lower leg.

Before he had even thought about it, my dad snatched up a heavy cinderblock, hefted it high over his head and hurled it straight down into the snake nest. It was one fluid movement. The mother snake was pinned, most of the babies crushed. The female hissed as loudly as a hose on an air compressor, thrashing, her fanged pink mouth lolling open.

"RUN, BABY, RUN!!" he shouted at me, "RUN UP THE OTHER BANK!!"

As I scrambled to safety, he ran and got a sharp-edged shovel from the tool shed and dispatched that snake off to Reptile Hell. It was the day I realized that my dad really was a super hero.

D

Snakes in the grass are the worse. You're just walking along, minding your own business when all of a sudden...BAM...they snap right at you and sink their little fangs in under your skin. And water mocs are venomous. Nasty buggers.

When I was 15 I was out walking the fenceline on our farm, carrying my trusty .22 rifle as I was want to do, and spotted a HUGE moc sunning himself on a flat rock in the creek. I neatly pumped three shells through his head so fast he didn't even move. With a (looong) stick, I gingerly poked the dark coil up - no response. Hurray for me!

Today (8/28/2004), I was at my friend Cody's house fishing and I almost stepped on a water moc. The only reason it didn't strike is because it had a toad in its mouth - Thank you God!!! We yelled for Cody's dad and he killed the snake with a hoe.