Seven or eight rough looking men had several deer carcasses hanging in a screen shelter at Kerrville State Park when I got there around 10:00 PM to work surveillance on them. I certainly did NOT want them to know I was watching them until help arrived!
I had stopped by Kerrville Police Station off duty earlier to see if anything was going on. In the 1970s, most of us on KPD would work without putting in for overtime just for the fun of it, so checking by to see what was going on was not unusual.
The dispatcher, Tom Rankin, a retired Army veteran, said he was glad to see me. An anonymous person had just phoned in to report a man shooting deer at Kerrville State Park. A deputy sheriff and a couple of Texas DPS troopers were in the far corner of the county with some kind of call. No game warden or other LE officer was on duty at the time. Tom couldn’t send an on-duty city cop because it was outside our jurisdiction. Could I go to the State Park and check things out?
I grabbed a portable radio and headed to the State Park. On my first drive through, I spotted a screen shelter with several deer carcasses hanging inside it and several men working on them. I drove by without slowing down, hoping the men would think I hadn’t noticed them. They ignored me. I drove to the other side of the park out of sight and radioed my dispatcher with the information. He said help would arrive in 20 or 30 minutes. I told him I would take up a position where I could monitor the poachers and keep him informed of changes.
The deer in the park were tame enough to eat out of your hand. I expect these men had simply approached the trusting animals and shot them in the head with small caliber firearms.
I walked back toward the screen shelter where the men were cleaning the deer, being careful to stay back in the trees. My portable radio was turned down to the lowest volume. I only carried a little 5-shot .38 revolver and six extra bullets in a drop pouch when I was off duty, so I was hardly prepared for a fire fight with a gang of men armed with who knew what kind of weapons.
I snuck up within about 30 yards of the shelter. There were four or five trucks parked behind it. Seven or eight men were milling around. They had obviously come as an organized group to slaughter deer. Nothing happened as the clock ticked away. The men butchered the animals they had hanging and strung up more that had lain on the floor where I hadn’t seen them.
When the cavalry arrived, it was far more than I expected. Tom, the dispatcher, had been busy waking up and calling in all the help he could get. Ten or twelve peace officers from a half-dozen or more departments had rendezvoused just outside the park, then came in a long parade. They had the gang surrounded before the men knew what was up.
The poachers were all from Louisiana. I never learned if they were harvesting the meat for personal use or taking it back home to sell. But under Texas law, they lost their vehicles and their weapons, were levied stiff fines, and likely spent time behind bars. I never got involved in the prosecution because I was out of my jurisdiction, just observing from a safe distance.