Name: Paul Meek
Address: P.O. Box 454; Raleigh, MS 39153
Phone: 800-829-2597 Fax:
Personal Website:

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 Paul Meek Outdoors

Paul Meeks has been producing turkey calls for more then 25 years. Currently Paul produces three different types of box calls. This are a double sided call made with Walnut and Poplar. A single sided call produced from Walnut and Poplar. A smaller call, also a double sided box call made from Red Cedar and Walnut ends.

The calls are also made in a wildlife art series, The lids of these calls are decorated with one of five decorative patterns. These consist of Oak leaves, acorns and leaves, turkey feather, strutting Tom turkey and a turkey scene.

The patterns can be applied to any of Paul’s box calls with the exception for the turkey scene on the smaller box call. There just isn’t the room for it. The art work is all hand engraved. They are signed and numbered. The numbers are the sequential count of box calls made that year.

Paul Meek’s calls are becoming very popular with collectors as well as welcome gifts to the serious outdoors person. In addition to the turkey calls Paul produces he manufactures and sells a complete line of deer lures and liquid fish lures.


From the shop of Paul Meek comes a new and radical type call unlike anything seen in the art of turkey callmaking. The call is named the "Rock Pot" and has been in the design phase since early 2003. The striking surface is made from rock and each rocks shape determines the size and shape of the pot. Pots are made from various exotic and domestic woods. This combination of rock and wood is incredibly attractive to the eye. Each "Rock Pot" is unique as no two are alike in shape or size. Each pot has a striker that produces the best turkey call sounds for the call. Hand produced one at a time by Paul each of these is numbered, dated and sign by Paul and accompanied with a certificate of authenticity describing the type of wood and rock used.

Poem by Paul Meek 10-12-88

Hunting Buddies - Father and Son

You went with me to deer camp when you were only two, And the pattern began that will only last our lifetime through. Many have been the years I have passed up my shot, For in my arms lay a camouflaged, small sleeping tot.

When the hounds howled in chase you could not be still, For your excitement and anticipation were so very real. As you grew older I saw your eyes grow so big and bright, As your first deer passed us by in liquid flight.

Many are the miles the old Yamaha has rode, with you asleep on the rack and me at the controls Stopping to wake you at each stand I took for fear you would fail to get that long awaited look.

You taught me the kill was not what I sought, the fulfillment was to share these things with you in deep solemn thought.

I remember the turkey hunts when I gave up my gun, so I could have more hands to help you, when you tagged along. You called your first turkey at the age of five and you and I knew what it meant, to a father with a son at his side.

I fussed at you constantly to sit down, be quite! be still! But you couldn't help yourself as you jumped up and shouted, "Daddy, it's a gobbler and it's real!"

Many are the hours we have spent in God's woods sitting in the blind beneath our camouflage hoods. With patience that would be the envy of men ten times your age you go through your calls, looking for the big gobbler that you hoped you would send to his last fall.

Each day as you grow bigger and strong, I sit and look at you and wonder, if you will help your son to hunt the turkey when I am gone. For I know in my heart that someday I will no longer be a part of these many happy days we have shared from the start.

I thank God everyday, for in his woods I have found my rest, And especially for a son that brings me such happiness.

This happiness you have brought me in words I cannot express.

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