With a Little Help From My Friends
By: Grace Mehl, IF Public Relations

As Dad reviewed last week’s race sheet this morning, he pointed out that many of my fellow club members were clocking birds with my band sequence on them. “Good,” I said, at least they are not wasting the potential. That was not what my Dad had in mind, I know. He, and some others, think I help other flyers too much. This year and for the past couple of years, I raised more youngsters than I needed, or could possibly fly. Then, I gave many away. I gave them to beginners and members in my club. I put them into the IF Convention race and maybe a few auction races. I gave late hatches to my friends who have given me birds in the past, if they admired a certain bird or pair. And, that is the key, right there. I am reciprocating the help that was given to me.

I have been flying for 5 years now. When I decided to get into the racing sport, I received help from many people who knew my Dad. He called them and we went over and made a few deals to buy a few youngsters here, a few breeders there. We bought them at a fair price. But, it surprised me that I had to buy birds at all! I remembered when I was little and following Dad around, he would give birds to people who were getting started. I was surprised that custom had faded out. Where were the friends who swapped birds? They were hard to find. There were a few, though. They are the old fashioned sportsmen. In my little club, they predominate. In NLI club, I don’t think there is a single person who, when I have visited their loft, hasn’t said “Grace, if you like that bird, I’ll breed you a pair of youngsters next year.” That’s why they fly my birds, and I smile when they clock them. Is there something wrong with that?
I was over at the pigeon club house the other afternoon setting up some new software on the club computer and I had the front door propped open. The school up the street let out while I was there and two young men stuck their heads in the door to see what a pigeon club was all about, as they passed it every school day and no one had ever been there before. So, I spent some time telling them about the sport and the birds. They vowed to stop back one night when we are shipping the birds.

I was releasing my birds on the fringe of a residential area one summer morning when a woman walked over from a house. I cringed, thinking she might not like me being there, releasing pigeons. But, it turns out she was fascinated by the sport and wanted to know more. I spent 20 minutes or so explaining. Her name is Lily and she is a middle school teacher. Lily took down my phone number and she called last week to ask me if I could come talk to her classes. She teaches in a small school with 100 students and she wants me to spend the day and talk to all 5 of her 20 student classes! We set up a date.

I have a beginner through the “IF Help-A-Beginner” program that I mentor in Pennsylvania. He took 2nd in a 250 mile YB race last year with a bird I had sent him. This year I gave him more youngsters. We talk on the phone frequently. He asks me about things he hears from other members in the club. We talk about breeding, training, feeding, and medications. At least half of his team is made up of my birds. I visited his loft in the spring and I am hoping that he can visit mine this fall with his father. His name is Albert and he is eleven.
This is what the pigeon racing sport is all about. Teaching others to love pigeons and learn about the sport is how we keep the sport alive. Breaking into the sport is difficult, and without help, nearly impossible.

It takes time to figure out how to build a loft, how to recognize health and illness, how to best train race birds. I certainly haven’t figured it all out, and I work hard at it. What I have figured out, is that if I didn’t have Dad to bounce things off of and didn’t have such good friends in my club and outside of my club, it would have been a lot harder to get this far. If I started to mention names, the list would be very long and I would invariably be in trouble for leaving someone off. These pigeon men pushed, pulled and goaded me in the right direction. They mentored me.

Now I mentor others. Some formally, through the IF Help a Beginner program, some informally.

Who are you mentoring?