1 Attachment(s)
Lost my fishing buddy last night
I never remember a time in my life that my Dad and I weren’t either fishing, talking about fishing, or planning a fishing trip. That trip might have been a farm pond, creek, or KY and Barkley Lakes.
Some of my earliest memories were trailing behind him to his most favorite fishing hole in the whole world—Robertson Pond, a 10 or so acre farm pond that held a population of huge bass that would terrify a topwater bait, especially a JitterBug.
As manager of the Lake Barkley marina Port Ken Bar (now Green Turtle Bay), he allowed me to take off in a rental v-bottom boat with a 6 HP Johnson engine and skulling paddle so I could try to become the next Bill Dance (after I had finished my work shift). Nobody had heard of child-labor laws then and my paycheck was always traded for my charge account balance that was equal parts snacks and fishing tackle.
He had to travel a lot in those days to find carpenter work on bridges and dams. It was on one of those Ohio River dams that he was almost killed while working driving piling on cells for the dam. He was forced to spend the rest of his career with his feet much closer to the ground.
We spent countless hours chasing crappie, catfish, bass, sauger, and gills/Redears. He loved watching one of those softball sized red and white bobbers with a wad of night crawlers under it chasing catfish. I never convinced him he didn’t have to breaks fish’s jaw to set the hook, especially with circle hooks.
Later in life I introduced him to crappie on crankbaits and he enjoyed it more than any other type of fishing.
Dad’s health had kept him out of the boat the last couple of years but he always wanted to hear about my trips. We planned several trips but there was always a doctor appointment or something just slightly more pressing to do.
Dad passed quietly from this life Sunday night surrounded by my Mom, my brother and I. I know when he crossed over he was met by family, old fishing buddies and some beloved black labs that need an ear scratch.
I’ll miss Dad’s funeral Wednesday while I’m having lower spine surgery. I’ll get to take part in the visitation on Tuesday and help support my Mom. I know Dad would kick my butt if I missed the surgery on his account. I tried to reschedule but couldn’t work it out any time soon.
As we all 3 shed tears over his body Sunday as he passed, there was a huge gust of wind and driving rain on the roof of the hospice center. It lasted just seconds. We all agreed that was him moving to his next life and letting us know things were going to be OK.
I’ll think of him each time we let the cranks out and start looking for that next slab. Attachment 322945
Sent from my iPhone using Crappie.com Fishing mobile app