It was an extraordinary, exceptional paradisetucked away in the super-funnel of the Mississippi Flyway that Wild Acres cameto represent and often described in newspapers and hunting lore as the“Paradise of Duckdom.” Here, year after year, gravel-throated voyagers, migratingdown from the north, interrupted their journey to linger on Wallace Claypool’s 1,350acres of greentree reservoir, where they fed in the nearby rice fields andfeed-filled sloughs, rivers, marshes, bayous, and lakes along with feeding onacorns in his greentree-timberedarea.

Wallace Claypool was a firm believer inphysical fitness, exercising every day. He could perform stunts of strength thatamazed younger men. Golfwas his game back in the 1920s. Then in 1925, he ventured into a sport thatwould lead him to receivenational recognition as a conservationist. He was famously quoted as saying that “if thewild duck is to avoid the fate of the passenger pigeon, somebody must furnishit with food, water, and a place to rest.”

Claypool acquired 5,000 acres in 1942 by forfeiture from the state due to unpaid taxes, by Quitclaim Deeds from two Drainage Districts, and from two differentindividuals. He immediately built a 1,350-acre reservoir, 800 of which would be under watercontrolled by levees once completed in 1943. After 1943, the duck population increasedsteadily to about 200,000 ducks.

The duck season of 1949 would be a banner year for Wild Acres asessentially everything was dry with no water in the overflow areas. From 1945 onward until the drought years began in1959, which lasted through the first half of the 1960s when hunting on WildAcres was limited to hunting only two during the week, Wild Acres’ duckpopulation ranged from 250,000 to half a million. It was a spectacle like noother, bewildering wildlife biologists who traveled to Wild Acres to observe.Even as late as December 8, 1960, newspapers such as the Fort Worth StarTelegram were still calling it the “New Duck Capital of the World."

For it washere at Wild Acres that hungry hordes gathered in tremendous numbers in thelow, lush wintering grounds. It was here where the hunting was the very best, whenthe walnut stock was sweat-wet against the hunter’s cheek.