Ross Spurlock, a former Arkansas Game and Fish Commission's wildlife officer for Pulaski County, died Monday after a battle with cancer.
Everybody knew him as Spurlock. I don't remember ever hearing anybody call him Ross. Spurlock's career with the Game and Fish Commission began in October 1989 when he was assigned to Perry County. He moved to Pulaski County in May 1991, and there he served for the rest of his career. He retired in October 2019.
Arkansas enforcement personnel insist on being called wildlife officers, but Spurlock always called himself a game warden. In fact, he often referred to himself as a "possum cop," a term that most wildlife officers abhor.
It takes a special person to be a game warden in a place like Pulaski County. The only comparable example in Arkansas might be Washington and Benton counties, but on a much smaller scale. Think about all the calls that officer gets from the Heights and Hillcrest, from Chenal and Natural Steps and Skyline Drive, from people freaked out about an armadillo in their backyards, a raccoon on their patio eating cat food, deer chomping their ornamental shrubbery, hawks attacking goldfinches at their bird feeders or, heaven forbid, a bobcat or coyote stalking their pets.
The next call might be from Ferndale about somebody shooting a deer from the road, trespassing turkey hunters or somebody shooting too close to a house. Landowners in eastern Pulaski County often call in August to make sure their dove fields pass legal muster. Then there's all of the non-wildlife related situations where wildlife officers assist other law enforcement agencies. It takes a lot of tact, diplomacy and humor to interact with such a diverse constituency. Spurlock had the touch.
A surprising amount of poaching occurs in the wooded environs of Little Rock, North Little Rock and Sherwood, especially west Little Rock in the Two Rivers area and Walton Heights. Two Rivers Park, the wooded ravines between the Arkansas River and Arkansas 10 and also Allsop Park are deer refuges where bucks grow old and big, and their majestic antlers are too much for some people to resist. Spurlock matched wits with one profligate violator -- a highly advanced bowhunter -- for much of his career, and it took every trick he knew to stay a step ahead of the guy.
Spurlock said, "He told me, 'I'm going to keep doing it,' and I told him, 'I'm going to keep catching you.' "
On top of all that, Spurlock had to cover the Arkansas River, Lake Maumelle and other waterways. He helped recover the bodies of many drowning victims over the years, and those experiences affected Spurlock profoundly. He had zero tolerance for reckless boating or boating under the influence of alcohol or controlled substances.
When demolition crews were trying to blow up the Broadway Bridge a few years ago, Spurlock took a station on the Arkansas River to keep boaters away. He videoed the event with his cellphone. When the smoke cleared, the bridge still stood. Spurlock posted it on Facebook with two words: "Epic Fail."
Spurlock looked like he came straight out of Central Casting. He was of medium height with a chiseled physique and a square granite jaw. His RayBan Aviator sunglasses adorned a face that appeared incapable of smiling and gave him the appearance of a fighter pilot. With his world-weary voice, he was a storyteller nonpareil. He could hold an audience spellbound for hours as he rattled off one true story after another.
Spurlock loved to show the video on his phone of him being tasered during a training exercise. It took a tough guy to volunteer for that, and an even tougher guy to enjoy it, as he seemingly did.
Spurlock was an avid hunter, and wild turkeys were his passion. In April, while being treated for cancer, he mustered the strength to get out and call up his last gobbler on opening day. That was the last time I talked to him. I called to see how he was feeling, and he spent over an hour giving me turkey hunting tips.
I am casually familiar with a few wildlife officers, but Spurlock and the late Fred Harrod were the only two I ever knew as friends. Spurlock was a reliable source of information who kept me current on various matters of common interest, and his word was his bond. If Spurlock said it, you could bank on its veracity.
Every time I saw him, his parting words were, "Call me if you need me." A lot of people say that. Spurlock meant it.
Funeral services will be held today at Valley Baptist Church in Searcy, 3328 Arkansas 36. Visitation will be from 11 a.m.-1 p.m., and services will be from 1-2 p.m.