05-27-2003, 07:47 AM
[size 3]For this one I will have to dig back about 20 some odd years.[/size]
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[size 3]There was once a man who lived on a lake near me[/size]
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[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]I first met this man at a polish catholic wedding, With no sons of his own, he had taught all 5 of his girls to fish. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]Yes he was a family man, I say was because he has been passed for nearly 20 years now. But not with out leaving me with his best fishing tips and his most productive spots for catching deep water roaches (Giant Blue Gills)[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]He had an interesting outlook on life, calm and serene for the most part, one that came with life’s experience. There was nearly a 50-year difference in our ages, yet he could find the patience to set with a young buck of 18 year and show him a thing or two.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]I had played hundreds of hours of pinochle with him on the many nights in his log cabin with his wife to pass the time before we sacked out to rest for the early morning fishing trips.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]We would head out before days morning light. Walking down to the lake where his boat had been tied down for 30 years we could hear the whippoorwills singing their lonesome song in the pre dawn. (The street we walked down to the lake is justifiably named after these birds) I was excited and in much of a hurry to get down to the lake to start hooking in to them tasty gills. He said slow down, there is no hurry to get down there, and the fish are not going anywhere and will be there when we get there. He stepped out the back door of the pre civilization log cabin that time had forgotten, walked out to the end of the drive way and peered down at the lake, drew in a deep breath and looked up towards the sky and said we will have a good day today. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]The chill still in the air and the mist would begin rising off the lake creating a light mystic fog that gave this populated lake a sense of isolation and magically time felt as if it were thrown back a hundred years as we rowed out on to the lake as the lights and houses gradually disappeared with each stroke of the oars.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]The clean cool crisp air was moist with the fog as it grew heavier and every thing was getting wet from the dew left behind the fog as it bumped against every thing in the boat, large beads of dew rolled down the sides of the heavy 17 foot aluminum row boat. Even the seats we sat on were getting wet and uncomfortable. We did not seem to mind because in just a few minutes we would be catching deep-water roaches. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]Five minutes after we cast of from our mooring point we were dropping off anchor. Matching our exact spot by measuring the depth the anchor went down according to the pre measured knot on the rope that had been tested true time and time again for nearly 30 years he said. I found it amazing that he could hit a spot out in the middle of the lake in the fog with no lights or landmarks to go by.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]Assuredly as soon as we dropped anchor the first morning light started peering its rays burning off the fog as it began its decent back on to the lake from once it came.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]We cast out, and as soon as the hook hit the water, the action was on. Throwing back any gill under 9 inches we had a blast attempting to make our limit of 50 gills apiece. (Legal limit for that period of time) We sat there for nearly 3 hours catching and releasing hundreds of gills that I normally would have kept if I were on my own or with some one else. The time seemed to last forever yet vanish in mere seconds from the time we set out on the lake, it was time to go back in.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]Our limits met, with a few straggler varieties of perch and bass that passed by our way, we went back in. scaling and then filleting our catch we would be done before 10 am and had a couple hours to kill playing pinochle before the tigers game came on air on the radio.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]We listened to the game, as Mark The Bird Fidrich would stair in to the sky to watch the air plains flying over the stadium. And we knew for a fact that if they threw Hernandeze in to the game as a relief pitcher for the bird, the game was lost, no matter how many runs we had over the opposing team. A few choice words were said about our displeasure of sparkies decision, and a couple swallows of our at that time local beer Stroh’s. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]We would then set out to the side of the house to pitch some shoes. His family would soon arrive to help discard of the days catch, bringing tidbits form home, cheesecakes, pies, cookies, melons, and yes more Stroh’s Beer. Teams were drawn and we would pitch shoes till the gills were done. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]This mans wife would catch clean and cook these gills, she would even help clean the gills even if she did not go out to help catch them. Not to mention that she is a wiz at pinochle and would give you a run for your money.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]Though we did not rush for one minute the whole day, I did more on that one day than I had ever done on any given day of my life up to that point.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]His philosophy on life was to never hurry; god will give you all the time you need to do what it is that he wants you to accomplish in your life. Life is too short to rush through it and if it has to be rushed, to be finished, then it in not the lords will.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]I have noticed this statement to be true time and time again in my life; time would literally stand still as I labored on my production jobs. And should I be wasting my time, the hours passed me swiftly by, leaving me to wonder where the time went.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]So now whenever I head out to fish on his lake I look in to the sky and peer at the lake and now can I see what he saw and I know what the day will bring. I take a moment to remember this man that I now and then revered as my grandpa Dean and ask for his forgiveness, because of the last words that came out of my mouth to him were cross words. Hurting words said out of grief and pain, words not really meant, but were the last words I spoke to him while he was alive. And then I pray to god that he hears my words and knows that they had nothing to do with him. And that I appreciated and cherished the time he spent with me, and every thing he had taken the time to teach me. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size] [center][size 3]The hardest lesson he taught me was to never leave those you cherish and love in bitterness, because you really never know when it is the last day you will ever have together. [/size][/center] [center][size 3]Carrol Dean was a survivor of Pearl Harbor[/size][/center] [center][size 3]He died nearly 20 years ago of cancer of the lungs.[/size][/center]
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[size 3][/size]
[size 3]There was once a man who lived on a lake near me[/size]
[size 3][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]I first met this man at a polish catholic wedding, With no sons of his own, he had taught all 5 of his girls to fish. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]Yes he was a family man, I say was because he has been passed for nearly 20 years now. But not with out leaving me with his best fishing tips and his most productive spots for catching deep water roaches (Giant Blue Gills)[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]He had an interesting outlook on life, calm and serene for the most part, one that came with life’s experience. There was nearly a 50-year difference in our ages, yet he could find the patience to set with a young buck of 18 year and show him a thing or two.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]I had played hundreds of hours of pinochle with him on the many nights in his log cabin with his wife to pass the time before we sacked out to rest for the early morning fishing trips.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]We would head out before days morning light. Walking down to the lake where his boat had been tied down for 30 years we could hear the whippoorwills singing their lonesome song in the pre dawn. (The street we walked down to the lake is justifiably named after these birds) I was excited and in much of a hurry to get down to the lake to start hooking in to them tasty gills. He said slow down, there is no hurry to get down there, and the fish are not going anywhere and will be there when we get there. He stepped out the back door of the pre civilization log cabin that time had forgotten, walked out to the end of the drive way and peered down at the lake, drew in a deep breath and looked up towards the sky and said we will have a good day today. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]The chill still in the air and the mist would begin rising off the lake creating a light mystic fog that gave this populated lake a sense of isolation and magically time felt as if it were thrown back a hundred years as we rowed out on to the lake as the lights and houses gradually disappeared with each stroke of the oars.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]The clean cool crisp air was moist with the fog as it grew heavier and every thing was getting wet from the dew left behind the fog as it bumped against every thing in the boat, large beads of dew rolled down the sides of the heavy 17 foot aluminum row boat. Even the seats we sat on were getting wet and uncomfortable. We did not seem to mind because in just a few minutes we would be catching deep-water roaches. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]Five minutes after we cast of from our mooring point we were dropping off anchor. Matching our exact spot by measuring the depth the anchor went down according to the pre measured knot on the rope that had been tested true time and time again for nearly 30 years he said. I found it amazing that he could hit a spot out in the middle of the lake in the fog with no lights or landmarks to go by.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]Assuredly as soon as we dropped anchor the first morning light started peering its rays burning off the fog as it began its decent back on to the lake from once it came.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]We cast out, and as soon as the hook hit the water, the action was on. Throwing back any gill under 9 inches we had a blast attempting to make our limit of 50 gills apiece. (Legal limit for that period of time) We sat there for nearly 3 hours catching and releasing hundreds of gills that I normally would have kept if I were on my own or with some one else. The time seemed to last forever yet vanish in mere seconds from the time we set out on the lake, it was time to go back in.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]Our limits met, with a few straggler varieties of perch and bass that passed by our way, we went back in. scaling and then filleting our catch we would be done before 10 am and had a couple hours to kill playing pinochle before the tigers game came on air on the radio.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]We listened to the game, as Mark The Bird Fidrich would stair in to the sky to watch the air plains flying over the stadium. And we knew for a fact that if they threw Hernandeze in to the game as a relief pitcher for the bird, the game was lost, no matter how many runs we had over the opposing team. A few choice words were said about our displeasure of sparkies decision, and a couple swallows of our at that time local beer Stroh’s. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]We would then set out to the side of the house to pitch some shoes. His family would soon arrive to help discard of the days catch, bringing tidbits form home, cheesecakes, pies, cookies, melons, and yes more Stroh’s Beer. Teams were drawn and we would pitch shoes till the gills were done. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]This mans wife would catch clean and cook these gills, she would even help clean the gills even if she did not go out to help catch them. Not to mention that she is a wiz at pinochle and would give you a run for your money.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]Though we did not rush for one minute the whole day, I did more on that one day than I had ever done on any given day of my life up to that point.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]His philosophy on life was to never hurry; god will give you all the time you need to do what it is that he wants you to accomplish in your life. Life is too short to rush through it and if it has to be rushed, to be finished, then it in not the lords will.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]I have noticed this statement to be true time and time again in my life; time would literally stand still as I labored on my production jobs. And should I be wasting my time, the hours passed me swiftly by, leaving me to wonder where the time went.[/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"]So now whenever I head out to fish on his lake I look in to the sky and peer at the lake and now can I see what he saw and I know what the day will bring. I take a moment to remember this man that I now and then revered as my grandpa Dean and ask for his forgiveness, because of the last words that came out of my mouth to him were cross words. Hurting words said out of grief and pain, words not really meant, but were the last words I spoke to him while he was alive. And then I pray to god that he hears my words and knows that they had nothing to do with him. And that I appreciated and cherished the time he spent with me, and every thing he had taken the time to teach me. [/font][/size]
[size 3][font "Times New Roman"][/font][/size] [center][size 3]The hardest lesson he taught me was to never leave those you cherish and love in bitterness, because you really never know when it is the last day you will ever have together. [/size][/center] [center][size 3]Carrol Dean was a survivor of Pearl Harbor[/size][/center] [center][size 3]He died nearly 20 years ago of cancer of the lungs.[/size][/center]
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