Resurrecting an old thread. I lived in Colusa for a while in the late seventies and early eighties. I had been introduced to Cecil (and Glenn) by relatives, and if I am correct had done some work with Glenn before he retired. I bought a call from Cecil, and still have it, though it is time for it to go. One very foggy day, I was walking across the lawn to the curb from my home when Cecil drove by, saw me and pulled over to chat. He sat in his Van, and we talked about the spots where he had been hunting earlier, and about some mutual friends, for about fifteen minutes. Though the fog was quite thick, it was beginning to lighten up above, and the sun was going to pop through eventually. Cecil suddenly pricked up his ears, and shut the Van off. He stepped out of the Van, looked to the lightening sky, raised a hand to his mouth and called just using his throat. About sixty seconds later, a flight of Canadas dropped in and darn near whacked into the top of the Van one by one. A guy who can call a flight of Canada Geese into a paved street in the middle of a residential subdivision is a guy who gets my vote. If I had reached out my hand, I think I could have touched them.