CLIO, Mich. – Max Donovan and I were buddies for years. We went back to the early 1950s when rooster pheasants flushed from mile-wide cornfields, ditch banks and dogwood-choked fence rows. We trout fished and hunted when black ducks had time to circle before dropping in for a greeting from our high-brass No. 4s. Max […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…