The days of duck season are greatly outnumbered by those on the rest of the calendar. Yet, the work done over the course of the off-season makes those duck-season days all the sweeter. The hardwoods adjoining the river bottoms and sloughs of Arkansas were there before the first settlers. However, what Russell McCollum did for over 35 years caring for them on Wildlife Acres was new, shaping the practice for future land managers.
Regular clients and guides from decades ago recount that he was always working with the ducks in mind.
“One year, I finally had the nerve to ask him if he was going to hunt that day,” recalled longtime Wildlife Acres’ client Bob Metcalf. “Russell just grinned and told us, ‘I’ve killed all the ducks I ever want to kill.’”
Russell purchased his initial property in 1956 to start his duck hunting operation, Wildlife Acres. Over the years, Russell would purchase other properties and offer land trade sales with his neighbors to expand his contiguous tract in the Big Ditch Bottoms area.
Wildlife Acres
Bob Metcalf started hunting at Wildlife Acres in 1968. He would journey from Illinois each year to the famed green timber of Russell’s, joining others from across the country, until the property sold after Russell’s death in 1999.
“Being in Stuttgart during the annual duck festival [Wings over the Prairie] at the end of November is always special,” Metcalf said. “It is why I also loved being there to hunt with Russell every year since that first time I ventured into his flooded timber.”
Now in his 90s, Metcalf still goes to Stuttgart each season to witness greenheads descending through the treetops. Since Wildlife Acres was sold, he travels to another stretch of trees tied to the McCollum family, the Stuttgart Hunt Club. Kenneth McCollum, aka “Slick,” was one of Russell’s six siblings. Slick and the Stuttgart Hunt Club also have a famed duck-hunting history.
Russell managed all of Wildlife Acres — from clearing the boat lanes, hand-trimming the oaks and clean burning invasive undergrowth. Through observing the waterfowl, he knew ducks liked rising water, which meant new acorns, new grasses and new invertebrates to eat. So, he built the water levees and pump system to be able to flood his 1,000 acres of green timber. This may be the standard operating practice of private landowners and state land managers today but was unconventional at the time.
Quintessential Stuttgart
Usually, five to six guides would take hunters out at first light. One of the early conservation measures of the time was that everyone was done by 10 a.m., whether clients had their day’s limit or not. Most often, hunters had their birds well before then.
John Stephens, president of RNT Calls, guided for 10 years at Wildlife Acres, what he called “the quintessential Stuttgart hunting experience.”
“You met your hunters at the Mallard restaurant in town at 4:30 a.m. An eraser board had the guide’s name and who they were hunting with that morning,”Stephens recalled. “Once the parties were loaded up, each guide headed to their own hole.
“Hunting there was some of the most amazing I have ever seen and maybe will ever see.”
“When we arrived back at the boat shed, the hunters unloaded their birds and gear and headed out. Nothing fancy – no after the hunt breakfast provided, no returning to a lodge,” Stephens describes. “One of the coolest things about Russell’s was that while taking part in an amazing hunt and witnessing an unreal number of ducks coming through the trees, you could see the skyline of Stuttgart, ‘The Duck Capital of the World,’ from the boat shed.”
‘Live and Let Live’
Russell was a fixture in the Stuttgart and waterfowling community. Whether working with farmers when selling diesel, lending advice to other landowners as they developed their own management for ducks or supporting Ducks Unlimited, he was involved.
Behind his office desk read a sign, “Live and let live.” His land and hunting management style were decades ahead of its time. Yet, despite having “killed all the ducks he wanted to,” Russell would still be drawn to the timber at his leisure. Sitting on a log in a duck hole not far from the boat launch with his .410, he awaited ducks to hover down through the trees, showing that all the hard work had paid off once again.
Russell lived to be 89. His lessons in wildfowl conservation and land management continue today. Those fortunate enough to hunt Wildlife Acres will remember Russell for his wit and humor, and coaxing him into “showing off” on the duck calls after everyone returned to the boat house from the timber.
