Articles

  • 3 weeks ago | fieldethos.com | Charlie Benton

    By Rob NovemberThe sun hung low over the Western Jamaican coast, casting a burnt-orange glow on the rolling swells as we bobbed two miles off the coast of Negril. The dive boat—if you could call it that—reeked of diesel and old fish. Its wooden hull was sun-faded and pocked with years of hard living. Captain Omar, a wiry Jamaican with a gold tooth and a cigarette burned down to the filter, gave us a crooked grin as he cut the engine.

  • 3 weeks ago | fieldethos.com | Charlie Benton

    By Harold Scott“What the hell were you gonna do, give him a fuckin’ hug?” The words flew out of my mouth after a beautiful 5×5 whitetail and four of his smallest friends bound down the hill and out of our lives forever, while my dad and I reconvened to piece together what went wrong.

  • 3 weeks ago | fieldethos.com | Charlie Benton

    By Caleb McClainI was sitting in a cafe in a small village overlooking Lake Como, sipping a cappuccino with my wife and enjoying the cool morning breeze that rushed through the open door. She took a pinch from her pistachio croissant, popped it in her mouth, and melted back in her chair a bit. “You have to try a bite of this,” she exclaimed, “It is absolutely to die for.”To die for? Really? I have always been under the impression that God, country, and family are to die for, and food is for eating.

  • 3 weeks ago | fieldethos.com | Charlie Benton

    By Kevin Caffey I grew up in central Texas. It’s a place where the black land meets the post oak savannah. Not far enough west to get into the beauty of the hill country and not far enough east to get into the big thicket of the piney woods. Black, sticky farmland turns to sand hills as you move west to east through my stomping grounds, until you finally hit the Brazos River.  I spent the first third of my life hunting the area I knew as home.

  • 4 weeks ago | fieldethos.com | Charlie Benton

    By Scott LongmanHere are two truths: One, unlike the popular perception that most terrorists are masterminds, they are often blithering morons. Two, at least some special agents in the FBI actually have a wicked sense of humor. Those two notions came together in are-you-kidding-me comic fashion in the aftermath of the 1993 World Trade Center truck bombing. As a short refresher: eight years before 9/11, a brutal terrorist named Ramzi Yousef mounted an attack at one of the twin towers.

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