Liam Knoebel has a backlog. Right now, he has more skulls in stock than he can turn around quickly, and his customers know going in that they'll wait two to three months. That's how it works. That's how it should work. "You're not gonna get a good product" if someone rushes it for a weekend party, and that's not the customer he wants anyway.

Liam is a senior at Seneca High School and runs a taxidermy business out of his home — all word of mouth, no advertising, no social media, same philosophy as his dad's concrete company. He started learning European skull mounts at 12, after shooting his second buck ever — a nine-pointer — and asking his dad's friend to teach him how to preserve it. By the time he was done with three or four practice skulls from past hunting seasons, the craft had taken hold.

This year alone, he's processed 45 skulls: deer, elk, grizzly bear, cougar, fox, and alligator. Local hunters who travel far for big game bring the trophies home to him. "It's all word of mouth. Everyone knows — I know a concrete guy, I know a taxidermy guy."

Running a taxidermy business means more than knowing how to clean a skull. Every piece Liam takes in requires documentation: the tag, the hunter's name, the date of harvest, and their CUS number — the customer ID number on their hunting license, functionally their hunting identity. DNR inspectors can check at any time. "I'm the middleman. I have to keep track of that at all times." If a piece can't be traced to a lawfully harvested animal, the liability falls on him. He keeps meticulous records.

He wants to learn shoulder mounts next — the kind you see on Bass Pro walls, half-body, and full-body mounts. He's been researching taxidermy schools and apprenticeship opportunities. His end goal: to own his own shop. In the meantime, he pours concrete with his dad every summer (he's been doing that since age 8) and mows yards with his brother's company from Wedron to Seneca. "I don't feel like one job is enough. I feel like you need to have a lot of things going on."

He also runs cattle. He and his brother manage 25 head on their grandfather's farm. Growing up, the family kept chickens, turkeys, pigs, and rabbits. They never grain farmed, but they were always on the land. He bow hunts spots near houses where a shotgun would be inappropriate; he gun hunts fence rows and open ground. Turkey season is almost here, and he's looking forward to it. Wrestling conflicted with trapping season. Track conflicted with hunting season. He played football instead — four years, since 4th grade — and the schedule worked.

Conner Christian, the agriculture teacher who advises Seneca's FFA chapter, graduated from Newark High School in 2017 and taught at Rockridge for three years before coming back to the area. He earned his degree at the University of Illinois — I spotted the swag. Two days before this interview, a U of I professor stopped by to tour the program. Conner is plugged into a statewide network of ag teachers: 100 names he could list on demand, gatherings at state contests and annual conferences. "If I have a question about something, I can call Mr. Tabor from the west side of the state, three hours away."

He makes a point of reframing what FFA actually prepares students for. The organization has roots in production agriculture, but since the 1960s and 80s, it's become a leadership program primarily. Last week, his students competed in a meats identification contest — examining cuts, grading them, and building knowledge that connects to real careers. "Someone working at McDonald's falls under the umbrella of agriculture these days. And it's our job to help prepare kids to have those leadership skills to go out and maybe someday run a McDonald's."

For Liam, FFA is about recognizing what's already around you. "You're surrounded by cornfields your whole life. You don't even know what's going on in them." He has farm friends and non-farm friends in the chapter alike. The land lab gives students who've never sat on a tractor a first experience. That exposure, he said, is the point — "to see what agriculture really is."

He'll find out if his taxidermy shop dream is the right lane. In the meantime, he's busy.