GONE FISHING

A recent picture in our newspaper shows a solitary fisherman ice fishing. That triggered my memory bank once again.

Fishing has been a favorite sport of mine, beginning with my teenage years, and I have my Uncle Charles to thank for introducing it to me.

Uncle Charles was a childless widower when he met my mother's sister Sarah. They eventually married but were childless. As I reflect on our warm relationship, I think he may have considered me the grandson he never had. Until he died we enjoyed each other to the fullest.

Uncle's outdoor passion was fishing and he was good, real good at catching fish when others around him went home with empty buckets. It made no difference the time of year, or of the day's weather, he was ready to cast out and "reel one in!"

Some of our best times were winter fishing. What, you say, winter fishing in New Jersey? Yep. Not far from our homes was a series of lakes that did not freeze over, and they were our targets. I can still recall standing with him and casting our lines for a HUGH pickerel (he always thought BIG when it came to fish) ! He was so patient while teaching me the art, and so happy when I reeled one in.

Nothing beats sitting in a quiet fishing spot and allowing the rest of the world to go on its hectic, messy way.

More, later.