A Dynasty Built on Family and Faith
A Dynasty Built on Family and Faith
Duck Dynasty ’s Korie Robertson knows the recipe for keeping her family together.
I don’t want to mention names, but a lot of what’s on reality TV today is people gossiping, backbiting, cheating and being mean to each other. But not on our show. Duck Dynasty is about the family I married into, the Robertson clan, who make world-class duck calls.
We try to present something different for our viewers. We do have our disagreements, but every episode ends with a meal and a prayer, and in between we have a lot of laughs.
In fact, the first time we sat down as a family to watch Duck Dynasty we laughed so hard at ourselves that we could hardly hear the TV.
Our show is about ducks, fishing, beards, good eating—and the values that keep a family together. After 21 years of being a Robertson, there are some great life lessons I have learned.
1. Support each other.
They say we court young in the South. I met my husband, Willie, when we were in third grade, at Camp Ch-Yo-Ca. His mom, Miss Kay, was the camp cook that summer and her boys attended the camp for free.
Willie had big dimples and the cutest sideways smile. I had a diary that I never used much, but that summer I wrote, “Met a boy at summer camp and he was so cute. He asked me on the moonlight hike and I said yes!”
As my father-in-law, Phil, likes to say, I’m a city girl. The “big city” I grew up in was West Monroe, Louisiana, population 13,000.
The Robertsons lived out in the country on the Ouachita River. That’s where Phil launched his duck-call business, Duck Commander (“Phil, you didn’t call that duck. You commanded it,” claimed a friend, hence the name). They still live out there.
The first time I visited was with a church group when I was in fifth grade. I was surprised that the house was so tiny. Kay didn’t even have a dishwasher, but she cooked for the Duck Commander employees every day along with her four hungry sons. She spent practically her entire day in the kitchen.
The business was struggling, but that didn’t stop Phil from bragging about his sons. “Have you met my boys?” he asked me. “They’ll make good providers someday.” How could he have known that back then?
Willie and I didn’t start dating seriously until my senior year of high school. He had an orange 1980 Mustang with torn white leather seats and lived in a rented house in town with six other guys.
I loved to drop by in the mornings and Willie would make me fancy omelets for breakfast. He was a great cook then (he still is), and I could hardly make a thing (and still can’t).
When we first decided to get married, my parents weren’t thrilled. They were afraid I would drop out of school, start having kids and never go to college. Then they saw how committed we were. They supported us all the way—something that runs in both our families.
2. Work works.
For years, the entire Duck Commander operation was run out of that little house. Willie and his brothers helped with everything. They would sand and stain duck calls, dip them in polyurethane, pack them up for shipping.
It used to embarrass Willie when he would go to school with his fingers brown from tung oil. The boys also took the orders, because people called the house to place them. Whoever took the order would just grab a napkin or paper plate and write it down.
There would be a big stack of paper plates or napkins sitting on the kitchen counter with orders on them. It may have been a rudimentary system, but it worked.
If Willie wanted anything, he had to work for it. He still talks about the cool parachute pants that he bought in high school with money he made selling worms.
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