The Women of Duck Commander (6 page)

News of what happened between Jason and Greg quickly hit our church youth group as well as Christy’s and my friends at school. Jason and I started talking about the situation and, as a ruse, decided to go on a mock date with each other in order to make Christy jealous. (Remember, we were sixteen and eighteen at the time—not the most mature individuals.) I took him as my date to a school function, even though he had already graduated from another area school, to make sure Christy saw us together. We made sure she witnessed the fun we were having talking and laughing and flirting. I soon realized we really were talking, laughing, and flirting with each other, and I did not want the night to end. At some point
during the evening, I think we both forgot about Christy. We actually have not thought much about her since.

I must share one more aspect of this story before I continue with what happened with Jase and me. A week after our date, during Sunday morning church services, someone tapped Jason on the shoulder and told him to look in the back of the auditorium. He turned around and saw Greg standing there. He thought,
Oh no, round two!
After services concluded, Greg approached Jase and told him that he actually listened when Jase was telling him about Jesus’ love for him. He asked Jase to tell him again about Jesus and why He had died for him. He apologized to Jason for the one-sided fight and asked for his forgiveness. After hearing the message of Jesus again from the youth director, Greg was baptized that night. Today, Greg is a pilot with his own plane and has recently flown Jase and me to events where Jase shares that same message of Christ with many audiences.

T
HINGS
G
ET
S
ERIOUS

Now back to my story about how Jase and I ended up together. We started dating in the fall of 1987. Our first kiss was October 8, 1987. At first I was drawn to Jase because of his good looks, of course, but I soon noticed how self-confident he was. Not cocky, but self-confident; there is a big difference. He was not like any other boys I had dated, who tried to look and act cool in front of their friends. You know, those boys who would call and talk to you on the phone for hours one evening and then act like they did not know
you in front of their friends the next day at school. I liked the fact that he was not that way.

My friends were not convinced Jason was right for me. I mean, he was a redneck from West Monroe, for goodness’ sakes! I was a student at a private school in Monroe. Some of my friends were very well-off in terms of money and material possessions. They drove nice cars, lived in manicured neighborhoods, and, well, they didn’t shoot their dinner!

Jason’s family had nothing in common with my friends’ families. The Robertsons had multiple cars, but he had to take a gamble on which one would work when he needed to drive. They had a basketball hoop nailed to a tree in their front yard, so there was absolutely no grass. Since they did not have a concrete driveway, they just pulled the vehicles up “in the yard,” as they said. Their house was a two-bedroom, one-bath camp house with a laundry room addition and a metal roof off the back. It was twenty miles outside of town, in the middle of nowhere. And it was the busiest home I had ever seen in my life. The smells that came from that tiny kitchen were to die for! Miss Kay’s corn bread and banana pudding were some of the first things I remember eating in that house.

The family welcomed me just like they welcomed every other soul who made the drive up “in the yard.” They treated everybody the same, no matter how much money they had (or did not have), no matter what color skin they had, no matter who they voted for for president, and no matter what god they served. Everybody was welcome, and everybody was going to hear about Jesus from Phil. That family was like a magnet. They attracted any and all, and people found it very hard to tear themselves away.

Jason was true to who he was and what he believed. I was hooked immediately. The more we dated, the more I realized he could help me get to heaven. He was funny, confident, smart, driven, and super cute. We dated for a year and two months before he asked me to marry him. It went something like this.

It was Christmas of 1988, and we were exchanging our Christmas gifts alone at his grandparents’ house, next to the family home. I gave him his gifts: an LSU sweatshirt and cap. And he gave me his gift: a small potted plant. When I gave him a look that said, “Are you kidding me?” he grinned and told me to dig in the dirt. Reluctantly, I dug into the little clay pot until I hit something. I uncovered a little felt box, pulled it out, and opened it to find a beautiful engagement ring! I looked at Jase with eyes wide, and he said words I will never forget: “Well, you’re gonna marry me, aren’t ya?” Obviously, I said yes. And that’s my engagement story.

O
NLY
G
OD
C
OULD
L
OVE
H
IM
M
ORE

Jason and I were married August 10, 1990, in our home church, the same church we still attend together with all our family. Our wedding was completely perfect. My parents did not have much money (my dad is a preacher, and my mom was a teacher at our private Christian school). My dress was the exact duplicate of a beautiful gown I had spotted in our local bridal store, thanks to my mom’s best friend, who was a wonderful seamstress. It had all the details of the designer gown: beads, lace, tulle, and more. It also had big puffy sleeves—it was the end of the eighties era, you know. I sang a song entitled “
Only God Could Love You More,” which I prerecorded and played as I walked down the aisle. That song title was exactly how I felt about Jase, and I knew he felt the same way about me.

Oh, remember Christy? Her dad was our preacher at the time, and he officiated the wedding. Needless to say, we were all back to being friends. All of Jase’s brothers were in our wedding, as well as Lisa, Alan’s wife. I was the second woman Jase’s family brought into the Robertson fold. I was nineteen.

5

YOUNG LOVE

Korie

The first time I met Phil, he asked a friend and me, “Have you girls met my sons Jason Silas and Willie Jess?”

We nervously answered, “Yes, sir.”

Then he went on to say, “They’ll make good husbands someday.”

Keep in mind, my friend and I were only in the fifth grade when this conversation happened. He went on to tell us that his sons would be good providers because they were good hunters and fishermen. This did not really matter to me at the time; I just thought Willie was cute.

Now, I have to tell you, Phil is a little intimidating when you first meet him, so this was all a little embarrassing and shocking to me. Before this meeting, I had only been around Willie one other time. Let me explain.

W
ORTH
W
RITING
A
BOUT

As a child, one of the highlights of my year was going to summer camp. When I was in the third grade, my whole life changed at that camp, though I did not know it at the time. There, as an eight-year-old girl, I had my first crush—on the person who would eventually become my husband.

I fell for Willie immediately. In all my young life I had never seen such cute dimples and such a great smile. I was smitten. Like a lot of girls my age I had a diary, but I did not write in it much. But Willie was worth an entry, which read: “I met a boy at summer camp and he was so cute. He asked me on the moonlight hike, and I said yes!”

Each year at our camp, the girls wondered which young man would ask them to walk with him on the hike. There was only one boy I wanted to go with, and I was thrilled when he asked me. If a moonlight hike at summer camp counts as a date, then Willie and I had our first date that year and it was a success!

Even though Willie and I lived in the same fairly small city, we did not see each other for quite some time after camp that summer. We did not attend the same school, nor did our families go to the same church. The Robertsons went to a small country church, while my family worshipped at White’s Ferry Road Church.

I N
EVER
F
ORGOT
H
IM

I ended up at Phil and Miss Kay’s house a few years later because I was friends with the daughter of the preacher at our church. Her name was Rachel. Her father had struck up a friendship with Phil and was trying to convince him to bring his family to White’s Ferry Road. I was beyond excited when Rachel asked me to join her family at a fish fry at the Robertsons’ house so the families could get to know each other and the Robertsons could learn more about the church. Even though I had not seen Willie in two years, I had not forgotten him.

When we arrived at the Robertsons’, I was nervous, but I remember a lot about that night. Strangely, I can still picture exactly what I was wearing. It was the eighties, so of course my jeans were tight-rolled, and I wore a black waffle-weave shirt with a fluorescent-green rope belt and fluorescent-pink dangly earrings. I also remember thinking Willie was the funniest guy I had ever met. He worked hard to impress me by blowing on his thumb and blowing up his muscle, and showing me all his “Vulcan death grips.” In addition to those things, he ate sardines straight out of a can. This was all pretty impressive to a ten-year-old!

Two things about that visit to Willie’s house caught my attention. First was the fact that Phil told me what a good husband he would be as soon as I walked in the door. Second was that Phil and Miss Kay had a sign on their bedroom door that read
HONEYMOON SUITE
. Of course I did not say anything, but even then I was surprised at how blatant they were about their honeymooning. Now,
because of
Duck Dynasty
, millions of people know that Phil and Kay freely discuss that aspect of their lives.

After that night, I did not see Willie again for another two years. Seeing the guy who had captured my heart once every two years was hard on my love-struck young self. Thankfully, the Robertsons finally joined our church when I was in seventh grade. All the girls were immediately interested in Jase and Willie, not only because they were new but also because they were good-looking and they were genuinely nice guys.

Willie finally asked me out on our first real date—if we don’t count the moonlight hike—when I was in the eleventh grade. At that time, because he had not been nice to one of my friends a few years earlier, I didn’t go out with him. She had given him money to buy her a soft drink on a church trip, and he bought baseball cards instead. Of all the nerve! Willie went on to date other people and so did I.

Not long after Christmas during my senior year in high school, in 1990, Willie and I saw each other at the mall. Without ever saying anything, we both seemed to know we would see each other again. Things had changed. I called him a couple of days later, knowing I needed to be the one to reach out to him since I was the one who had rejected him previously. I had to leave a message for him and was thrilled when he returned my call the next day. We went to lunch at Bonanza that day, and by the end of January 1991, we were definitely dating. And we were serious.

I W
ASN’T
G
OING TO
M
ISS
T
HIS
O
PPORTUNITY

In the fall of 1991, I was preparing to go to college at Harding University in Searcy, Arkansas. I was hoping to convince Willie to join me, but he was attending seminary school at our church and was not the least bit interested in going to college or leaving West Monroe. He did not want me to go either, but I had wanted to go to Harding since I was a little girl. Both my parents had gone there, and I had an academic scholarship. This was a tough decision, but I decided it was an opportunity I did not want to pass up, so Willie and I broke up before I left for school.

A few weeks later, in September, Willie called me and said he wanted to get back together. I knew in my heart that I loved him and wanted to get back together, too, but I was not quite ready to tell him, so I said I would call him back the next day. When I did, I simply said, “Let’s get back together.” That was the last time we ever broke up. About a month later, we decided we were ready to get married.