Hunting for a Way to End Rural Hunger in Kentucky

"There's this misconception of hunters as a bunch of Rambo-types out there...but that's not what it is. It's giving back to people who need it badly."

Break out the pulsating-bright hunter orange and Mossy Oak: It’s officially deer hunting season in Kentucky!

Over the past decade, rural communities have helped farmer-driven markets blossom while rediscovering foraging with all the enthusiasm of a mushroom hunter who’s found a morel. What hasn't been embraced as readily, however, is local wild game, as laws still prevent the sale of individually harvested animals, and hunting for deer and rabbit remains somewhat misunderstood as a violent, wasteful, macho endeavor.

But it doesn’t have to be that way.

This week on The Goldenrod, we’re talking to individuals who are using locally hunted meat as a way to create stronger, more sustainable local foodways while helping conservation efforts, reducing hunger and cutting down our dependency on factory-farmed meat, the horrors of which have been revealed time and again (particularly during the pandemic).

Starting things off is Roger LaPointe, Executive Director of Kentucky Hunters for the Hungry. This 33-year-old, all-volunteer organization accepts locally harvested deer from hunters across the state, then donates the meat to food banks, shelters and those in need.

Uniquely protected under a 2015 law that prohibits “…state and local government entities from restricting the donation of game meat to or from not-for-profit organizations for the purpose of free meal distribution…” Kentucky Hunters for the Hungry has made extraordinary strides not only in addressing malnutrition and food scarcity, but in changing the perception of venison as a nutritious, abundant resource. (Deer meat is called venison, for those who need a refresher.)

Sarah Baird: Tell me a little bit about how Hunters for the Hungry started in Kentucky.
Roger LaPointe: We were founded in 1988 by a deer processor from Louisville. We’re blessed with so many Whitetail deer in the state, and he saw it as a way to supplement [food] for people who had the need. I was involved almost from the start through donating deer. And then when I retired from my corporate life, they asked me if I would volunteer to run the organization. I figured it was my turn to give back, and I felt strongly about the mission, so now I'm in my fourth year of leading it.

SB: How many hunters are involved every year?
RL: Oh, we're statewide! Any hunter can be a donator. We don't really track who has donated. We just know the number of deer that have been donated every year. When I took over, I think we had a little over 900 deer donated. The next year, we had 1,400. The year after that—2,100. And last year we had 1,899 deer donated. Each deer, typically, is about 40 pounds of edible meat, and we get about four servings per pound using USDA standards. That means you’re feeding about 160 servings per deer.

SB: Do you work only with specific deer processors? I saw a couple of processors from London and West Liberty mentioned on your social media.
RL: Deer processors are actually kind of hard to find because it’s very seasonal and a lot of work. We pay a discounted rate, because all we want them to do is grind the deer up into one-to-two-pound packages and then freeze it. We'll either pick it up or arrange to have it picked up by a local food bank, so we don't pay the full processing fee that they would normally charge someone from the public. The full fee is anywhere from, gosh, $75 to $125 now. Just grinding the meat is not as labor intensive, so we either get $1.50 a pound or $65 per whole deer. But the processor has the right not to accept the deer if they don't feel that it's worthy for our cause. Basically, if they think there's something wrong with it or it’s too shot up—too small—something like that.

A lot of our processors are USDA-inspected, even though deer technically cannot be USDA-inspected. They’re USDA-inspected facilities that will open only for deer season, or processors who have done it a long time. We hand pick them a little bit. Some of our processors will do it for free and won't even charge us. They don't take a lot of deer in, but if they get one in, they feel it's giving back to the community and they'll do it for free. Getting involved in this program and finding out the true hearts of people—whether it’s a hunter who's donating a deer; one of the processors who's doing processing for free; or some of the food banks—just the outpouring to the community warms your heart. It just makes you want to do more.

(via Kentucky Hunters for the Hungry Facebook)

SB: Are some food banks hesitant to accept venison because they’re unsure what to do with it?
RL: Yes. Especially in the major metropolitan areas, people were scared to death of venison at first. They didn't know how to cook it. They’d say—Deer! what do I do? Do I need to soak it? How do I get the gamey taste out of it?—not knowing that, really, you cook it just like you do ground beef. Any way you cook hamburger, you can cook ground deer. Most people in rural areas know how to cook it, though. [Ed. note: More on this Thursday!]

SB: How has the pandemic impacted things?
RL: The need has increased. We were a little bit apprehensive this year about what was going to happen as far as the donations because we didn't know what to expect due to the perceived meat shortage and COVID. Were we going to get any deer? Were people going to keep more meat? But actually, it was the second-best year we've ever had. And the people really needing it jumped up quite a bit, so I was fielding a lot of phone calls like, “Hey, our [community] pantry is out of meat. Can we get more? What can we do?”

SB: Is there a story from the pandemic that sticks out?
RL: We accept donations all through deer season, but toward the end of the season, it’s bow [hunting] only. Around that time, I received a call about a food bank in Cranks Creek [in Harlan County] that was in desperate need of protein. And I'm like, “Oh my gosh, there are three weeks left in deer season. It's a hard time to get deer. It's starting to snow. Let me think what we can do.” I went hunting that afternoon, and I'm a pretty religious person, so I just prayed. I said, “God, what should I do here?” Low and behold, this big doe came out in front of me, and I shot it. I said, “Well, Lord, I guess that's a pretty good indication you want me to do something.”

I took it to my processor and told him about the Cranks Creek situation, and he goes, “Well, we still got meat here, Rog. We'll do a push the next three weeks and see we can come up with.” Then it just so happened, that night, I had a radio interview with a young man and was telling him about what we were doing. He goes, “My wife is from Cranks Creek!” Well, that hit me in the face. I think it was a sign. We ended up taking two trailers full of venison and non-perishable items there.

(Cranks Creek drop-off, via Kentucky Hunters for the Hungry Facebook)

SB: Is there ever any concern about the legality of donating venison, even though people desperately need it?
RL: There are some KRS statutes developed for people who donate deer, so everything's protected and there's no recourse on that. That’s really helped us expand.

We work with the Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife, too, because a lot of farmers have what they call “degradation permits” for deer that are eating their crops and taking money out of their pockets. With the degradation permit, it used to be they'd just shoot them and let them lay. You couldn't do anything with them. And to me, that's not right. So, what we're working with Fish and Wildlife on is letting us go in and help that landowner get those deer off that property, but also take the deer. Since we have refrigerated trailers now, we can field dress them and put them right in the cooler, that way they're safe. Then we can take them to get processed so we can get food to people who need it. There’s no waste.

(Frozen, ground venison via Kentucky Hunters for the Hungry Facebook)

SB: Do you feel like you’re changing the perception of hunting in Kentucky?
RL: There are a lot of misconceptions. When I was in Cranks Creek, they were talking about how they were so far off the beaten path from where the food pantries deliver, all they would get would be, like, potato chips and power bars—basically junk food. Nothing really of any substance, and not what we would call “meal food” that people need. What also really got me was the misconception of the need that's out there. Usually, it’s single parent households: a lady with kids, and the young ones are the biggest recipients of the meat. But some people say, “Who gets this stuff? They don't really need it.” Yeah, they do. You just don't hear the need that's really out there.

Then you look at hunters, and there’s a misconception of being just a bunch of Rambo-types out there shooting up anything that walks, but that's not what it is. It's basically pure conservation and giving back to people who need it badly, like in Cranks Creek. We're actually stewards of the wildlife.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

Learn more about donating your locally-harvested deer this year here.