I touched on what got me started as a crappie angler in my story titled "Partners" After writing that article, I began thinking back to see what set of circumstances led me to become a fisherman.

What I believe is the case with most that become avid participants in an activity or hobby, a special event had to take place.

Way back when, 45 years ago to be exact, at the ripe old age of 7 is when it happened for me.

My father, a lifer military man, a heavy drinker and socialite, and a man that never really did to many things with his children, decided to take the whole family on a picnic and fishing trip to the Wateree river.

A few of you may know the spot, it's where the river crosses under the Hwy. 378 bridge. Back in those days, 1969 or 1970 not many folks used that area other than a few bank fisherman.

I was all boy back then, and more into exploring the mud and water than the fishing. After getting filthy, and worn out, I decided to sit on the bank and practice casting and reeling.

I did this until my father tired of it, and he hollered for me throw it out, and leave it be. Of coarse I didn't listen. When I began to reel it, a heavy weight was on the other end.

My brothers thought I was hung up, but I insisted that I had something alive on the other end of my line. I cranked that Zebco 202 as hard as I could, all the while, the drag continued to squeal.

It was at that point my line began moving upstream, everyone now knew I had a fish of some size on the other end.

My older brother attempted to take my pole, but my father would have none of it. He told him to leave me be, and lets see if he can land it.

I fought that fish for what seemed to be hours, in reality was probably 10 minutes before getting him to the bank. I had caught a carp, a 6lb. carp.

I could not of been prouder or happier of my accomplishment and insisted we take it home and eat it.

My mother is German, in Germany carp are considered a favorite food fish, hence the reason they were stocked in all US waters.

My folks were hesitant, but obliged me. The fish was cleaned, placed into a clay roasting dish, and baked. After an hour or two it was served up for the family supper.

I will state; that was by far the best tasting carp I've ever eaten. As a side note, the only carp I've ever eaten.

Now that y'all have heard my beginning, would any of you wish to share a memory with us as to how you became a fisherman?