OVER MY SHOULDER

Each Spring as the new growth starts to green up, and Easter approaches, I remember the good times that I had for many years with Uncle Harry. Uncle Harry was married to Mom’s Sister Fern---Aunt Fern was my favorite Aunt on my Mother’s side of the family.

Uncle Harry and Aunt Fern lived in Kansas City, where he sold insurance for Prudential. I was always pleased when they came to our house to visit---first, they always brought a big sack of candy--which back then was rather scarce at our house, and second, I knew that we would be going fishing each day (sometimes twice a day) that they were there. I always thought that they were ‘rich’, in that they always had a nice car (at least it appeared to me to be nice) ---they would take trips to Minnesota fishing, and Uncle Harry had a tackle box that would not quit. (I now know that they were not rich, but that they were what we would now call ‘comfortable’).

The tackle box looked huge to me (particularly when all of my fishing tackle--a cork, a hook, a line and a sinker---were hanging on my old cane pole). The box was a metal box about 18 inches long, maybe 10 inches wide and 12 inches or so high, it had a top that slanted to the middle where a handle was attached----and it was literally stuffed with fishing tackle---plugs, spinners, extra reels, lots of corks, extra hooks, an extra spool of line, stringers,----multiples of about every type of fishing tackle that they made at that time. Uncle Harry always took that tackle box with him whenever he went fishing. As a youngster, I always envied that tackle box, and in my mind just knew that when Uncle Harry no longer had a need for the box and tackle that he would give it to me---of course he didn’t, but I am happy that one of his grandsons are now enjoying it.

I remember that for my High School graduation Uncle Harry and Aunt Fern gave me a spun glass fly rod with an automatic fly casting reel on it, and a feather weight Shakespeare casting reel. I still have the rod and the reels---I occasionally use the fly rod and reel, but ‘retired’ the casting reel when I could no longer find parts for it. Over the years, I have had a great deal of pleasure with this equipment, and still think of Uncle Harry when I think of the rod and reels.

When I was quite young, the entire family (Mom, Dad, my brothers, and I), Uncle Harry and Aunt Fern would go to the creek, or on occasions to a lake, fishing and picnicking. We boys with our cane pole, and Uncle Harry with his rod and reel---I believe that at that time he had a ‘telescoping’ rod and a casting reel. Most of the time, we would fish with worms or minnows that he had brought from the city with him. I can recall how he would ‘baby’ those minnows---changing water every few hours, keeping them in the cave where it was cool etc. to keep them alive for the next days fishing. (in the Spring of the year, it was easy to find worms and we would dig our own)

As I got older, we began to seine our own minnows from the local branches or from just below the riffles in the creek. I recall how sharp those rocks were on my bare feet as we would wade around in the shallow water searching for minnows. It was always exciting when we would pull the seine up with the expectation of having a couple dozen or so of those large ‘red horse’, or ‘chubs’, or ‘shiners’, that were in the creeks. I can recall how excited we all were when there would be enough minnows in one sweep of the seine for the entire day of fishing, and how discouraged we would be when it took a long time to find even a few minnows.

We always joked that Uncle Harry never used much of his tackle that was in his tackle box-----often he would not use much more than I would have on my cane pole--I suppose that he would use more of it in the lakes where he fished, but perhaps like most of us, the joy was in shopping and finding the tackle, to have it , to periodically inventory it, clean it and admire it.-----(even today, I have a lot of plugs and spinners in my tackle box that I do not use)

I do recall that we never lost tackle, unless it became snagged very high up in a tree where we could not get to it. If it became snagged in the creek or along the bank, we would wade in (again bare footed, and sometimes in our under clothes) and get it loose, rather than ‘break it off’---I say we, but it seems to me that it was usually me or one of my brothers,---I really do not remember Uncle Harry wading in to recover the tackle---Dad would wade in on some occasions. Times have changed---now if I snag a lure it either comes loose, or it breaks off---like Uncle Harry, I do not do ‘wade ins’ any more, and for some reasons, I do not ask my grandsons to wade in. (and certainly, my wife will not go in for the lure)

Uncle Harry loved to fish---he would enjoy catching little perch or the ‘red bellied and red finned’---what we called pumpkin seeds----as much as he did the larger perch, crappie, bull heads and small bass. I have seen him stand for hours catching and throwing back those small perch---laughing with joy all of the time. Often he would get up very early---make a pot of coffee, drink a cup and walk the quarter of mile to the pond at daylight to fish. On still mornings, when we got up, we could hear Uncle Harry laughing as he was catching perch out of the pond. He would usually be back to the house for breakfast.

As Uncle Harry became older, he developed emphysema, and breathing became a problem, thus his fishing trips became fewer and of a shorter duration. I can recall however, that when he could get to the creek or pond, or a lake that he still got just as much enjoyment from fishing as he ever had. Uncle Harry was killed in a car accident in Kansas City several years ago, and Aunt Fern passed on a couple of years ago. I thank the Good Lord for those enjoyable times that I was fortunate to share with both of them, and for the many pleasant memories that I have of their visits.