Editorial by Rick Hiduk
A wreath on the porch of Mayflower Florist in Tunkhannock expresses the sentiments of many but not all residents who have followed the exploits of a female turkey named Hector.
Everybody needs a little good news now and then, and everybody wants his or her hometown to be known for the nice things that it offers. The local news is replete with stories about corruption, crime, cruelty and protests against everything under the sun.
So you can’t blame the people of Tunkhannock – a county seat too often in the news for its drug dealers, pharm-happy medical professionals, and heavy traffic – for embracing a wayward turkey hen that had taken refuge in the downtown area just before Thanksgiving.
Mayor Norman Ball symbolically “pardoned” the turkey, and she quickly became the darling of Facebook and a star on Wilkes-Barre/Scranton TV stations like WNEP 16. Although I never managed to cross paths with the ironically named Hector, it seemed that everyone else that I knew had seen her and had a story to tell. They also all had smiles on their faces.
It was obvious to most that Hector could not survive downtown forever. As she exhibited no fear of traffic, it’s likely that she would have eventually been hit. In the meantime, most locals seemed to delight in having to slow down their hectic lives for a few minutes to take a gander (and another photo) of a bird born wild but rumored to have been befriended and then abandoned by a local family.
I had begun collecting photos of Hector with the intention of writing a story about the turkey that gave Tunkhannock a reason to smile, while also emphasizing the role that Facebook had to play in the bird’s popularity. Between the unexpectedly large Thanksgiving Eve snowstorm and family gatherings stretched from Thursday to Saturday, I put off the assignment to Sunday.
I was shocked to learn on Saturday, after family members had left the house and (most of) the dishes had been done, that Hector had met a confusing and apparently horrific demise at the hands of a Pennsylvania Game Commission officer. I was saddened to know that an animal that had brought joy and a sense of community pride to so many had been shot in public rather than captured and relocated (or disposed of out of the limelight.)
I wish that I had been at the intersection of Routes 6 and 29 the day after Thanksgiving to see what actually happened, but I have to rely on first-hand accounts of several locals who were stopped in traffic with their families. According to those reports, the officer who shot Hector did not possess particularly good aim and only wounded the animal. If what these eyewitnesses say is true, Hector actually met her maker sometime during the half hour that it took for the game commissioner and a local police officer to free her from the undercarriage of the tractor trailer into which she jumped into after being shot.
The heartless among us, who probably kick their own dogs and children, were quick to skewer the sensitivities of those who spoke out against the actions of the game commissioner on television, radio and social media. The meanies cited the fact that Hector was “just a bird” and reasoned that those protesting probably had no problem eating turkey for Thanksgiving.
A very small percentage of commenters on Facebook and WNEP’s website stuck up for the PA Game Commission. A much larger number of people not only spoke out against the decision by the officer to shoot the turkey in public but also made it quite clear that the state agency that exerts control over hunting and all things wild was quite unpopular before Hector ever walked into town.
I’ve never had a run-in with the Game Commission, and I know several officers whom I really respect for their dedication to wildlife and state park management. Nonetheless, the agency appears to have a serious public relations problem, and the manner in which Hector was dealt will not help them. Their response to the public outcry was weak and flawed (http://wnep.com/2014/12/01/game-commission-explains-why-tunkhannock-turkey-was-shot/). I have seen no posts or reports that Hector was ever aggressive to people downtown nor that she had ever “pecked” anyone’s legs.
I do agree quite strongly that the world would be a better place if all of the people who are so upset about the killing of Hector would put as much effort and passion into feeding the poor, protecting children from predators, providing security for the elderly, and ensuring proper medical care for our veterans. If even a few people become involved in animal rescue, adoption or fostering of stray pets, or just educating people on the pitfalls of domesticating and feeding wild animals – as might have been the case with Hector – there could be a silver lining to this otherwise ominous cloud.
In the wake of Hector’s shooting and entanglement, those who had grown fond of the idea of the town having a new and famous mascot had every reason to be upset and certainly the right to express their dismay. As trivial as a wild turkey is in reality, it was a remarkable two weeks for people who live in a borough to see one up close on a daily basis. Who could blame them for humanizing the situation in a world where we see animated animals talk, reason, and sing and dance on the big screen every day?
While it’s more likely that Hector was enjoying her own reflection in shop windows than checking out the patrons inside, it was fun to believe that Hector was somehow more than a turkey and had come or been sent to us to brighten our days just as they were becoming short and gloomy.
That’s the real situation of which the Game Commission apparently had no comprehension, indicating more so that they are out of touch with society than simply ruthless or stupid. Shooting a rabid raccoon holed up in an outbuilding on a farm and making a botched attempt at blowing away an apparently healthy turkey in front of families who have grown an affection for it are two entirely different scenarios.
I’m sure that the Game Commission is fielding a large number of complaints over the situation. The officer didn’t simply shoot a turkey that was slowing down traffic. Unfortunately, he ignorantly (in the truest sense of the word) struck at the soul of a community. I can only hope that the agency takes the calls, emails, and letters seriously enough to review how similar situations are handled in the public arena in the future.
This Friday and Saturday, Tunkhannock celebrates Christmas in Our Hometown. While some people might have hoped to see Hector joining in the fun, it’s very possible that the enormous number of pedestrians that can descend on the downtown for the event would have led to problems for her. With that in mind, she could have been relocated sometime this week to one of several wild animal sanctuaries that had offered to take her in.
Let “RIP Hector” be your mantra as we move toward this festive weekend. T-Town’s turkey certainly didn’t have to die the way that she did, but we can’t bring her back. Eat a Christmas cookie or drink a cup of warm cider in her memory. Have your kids visit the kiosk near the Dietrich Theater to create outdoor ornaments that can nourish the birds around their homes. That way, they can learn that man can be kind to nature too.
