Fishing

FISHING

I well remember the first fish I ever caught. Being raised up during the latter part of the “Great Depression”, we fished a lot for the purpose of adding to our food supply. We ate whatever kind of fish we caught, even rough fish such as carp and drum.
The particular day I’m remembering, I was five years old and we had gone fishing on a small creek near where we lived in West Central Missouri. There were in my family two older sisters and an older brother besides my parents. We all fished and were lined up along the stream for some distance with me being near my parents. I had played more than I fished so had caught nothing when time came to go home. My dad said for us to roll up our lines and get ready to leave. I remember begging to stay for a little while longer so I could catch one. He was adamant about leaving and told me to get my line rolled up. Just as I reached for the pole the bobber went under and, grabbing my pole, I jerked so hard that pole, line and fish wound up in a willow tree nearby. Yes, I had caught a fish and a nice one at that. It was a Crappie that weighed about three quarters of a pound. I think it was the best fish any of us caught that day. At least that’s the way I remember it. This may also be my first case of “selective” memory.

Bill