The Don
“I got ‘trick-fucked,’” he said as he pointed at me with his soft drink in-hand, ice rattling against the wall of the plastic cup. Don Barry sat there in the booth of that Chili’s telling stories to myself and his son Tony for the entirety of our lunch hour together. The stories were impactful and smooth, regardless of the sharp language; and I could tell that Don would have been a steady dose of headache for opposing lawyers in his court room. As the legend goes, a traditional Don Barry lunch would have taken place at The Dugout in Topeka, Kansas. There would have been at least two pours from a Dewars bottle, and enough profanity to make Samuel L. Jackson blush. Having not met Don until late in 2021, I was not afforded the opportunity for such festivities – and in hearing the unfortunate news of his passing on November 28th, 2023, it is apparent that I never will. While I did not know Don well on a personal level, his family and extended family are dear to mine. Vicariously through them, I feel that I have gotten to know him better over the years, and have determined that Don and I would have gotten along like a frat boy and a lonely fat girl at ‘last-call.’ Not only do we share a vocabulary chop-full of four-letter smut, but we also share an ever-burning passion for his Shawnee County Farm.
With a combination of private river access, wooded safe havens, rolling hills and tillable land for as far as the eye can see, Don’s beautiful property sits roughly 11 minutes from my home in Topeka. Weller and I were granted permission to hunt it, and in our last 2+ years we have treated that property like an absolute playground. On Don’s land we shot and retrieved waterfowl. On Don’s land Weller tried to mouth our first Kansas Turkey; subsequently taking spurs to the snout and losing all trust in me as his handler. On Don’s land we introduced friends and family to the sport of hunting, learned tricks and tips from sport legends, and even had professionals capture these moments behind a lens. On Don’s land we met some really weird fuckers like that guy Tim who constantly drives the gravel roads of the property, probably hiding bodies or WWII land mines that he acquired from a Gun Show somewhere. And on Don’s land we have shared our experiences and passions for the world to see through this website and my social media posts.
Though Don will not be making his Sunday trips to mow the meadows of his beautiful farm, the respect for what he has built and his legend throughout Topeka will live-on. The Walks of William & Weller would not have been possible without Don’s investment and permission, and I certainly would not have ever heard the term ‘trick-fucked’ which could have potentially robbed an entire generation of this intricately designed word and its powerful meaning. Some of his tales on the day we met were about politics, others about my father-in-law “fucking Dicus,” but most of our conversation that day revolved around how Barry Family Farms got to its current-state. This current state of Barry Family Farms was featured in a Sitka catalogue with the help of Douglas Spale and Teddy Kelly, and on a much smaller scale will continue to be featured throughout postings here on ‘The Walks.’ The current-state will certainly miss Don Barry but the future state will always remain thankful! Rest in Peace, Sir.