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Rite of passage

In northern New England, the annual deer hunt is a time for fathers and sons to bond.

For two weeks every year, life is suspended in Vermont's remote Northeast Kingdom. It's hunting season, and generations of men - grandfathers, fathers, and sons - return to the woods to pursue the fleet-footed white-tailed deer. The autumn tradition unfolds in one of New England's last frontiers, and it marks a rite of passage as boys become men.

The November deer season is more than an event. It is typically the first date marked on the new calendar every year. Fathers take time off from work, and sons are allowed to play hooky for this seasonal ritual. It is a complicated and emotional time, of excitement, of the chase, of boys confronting death for the first time.

It may be hard for many to understand, much less condone, the introduction of young boys to rifles, bullets, and the killing of animals in this age of gun violence and antigun fervor. But to the families who return year after year to their rustic hunting cabins deep in the woods of northern Vermont, deer season is an integral part of life, of growing up.

Robin Lantagne of Newport, Vermont, well understands what the hunt means to the men and boys of her family. "Hell could freeze over, and they would still go to deer camp," she says. Ten-year-old Billy "got in trouble in school the day before camp for talking back. He came home with an envelope for me. I said, 'All right, mister, I'm not happy about this, but we'll deal with it when you get home.' And he flung his arms up and yelled, 'I can still go to deer camp.' "