Thursday, November 15, 2007
#316 Fishing With Dad-Another Jane Story
Jane’s father, Jack, adored her, and the feeling was mutual. He was the rock in her life. He was the buffer between her and a home atmosphere that believed children should be seen and not heard. And not seen very often. His job kept him on the road throughout Pennsylvania. This meant she would not see him during the week.
Jane fondly remembers going fishing with her dad. It was the one time where they could talk without concern of being overheard. More importantly, they went fishing so that he could talk to her knowing that her mother and grandmother would not talk to her. He was very open with her and she could and would tell him anything. They were able to talk about things like the facts of life.
Since they were fishing, he did require that she bait her own hook. That was the sign of a true fisherman. She didn’t like to, but she did. It was the least she could do.
#316
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4 comments:
Reminds me of my younger years up to Houghton Lake in Michigan fishing with my Dad.
Don't remember baiting worms, was too young.
Another great warm-fuzzy story, Jack.
Ah, fishing. I baited my own hook many times. I even poked a hook through a sardine.
That's gross.
Great post on the dollar bill below!
the recent trip i took with my father to kentucky was to 100% and ONLY fish. i'm not a huge fishermen, tho i can now boast more catches than dad on this particular journey. my goodness tho, did we have fun.
now, the whole live bait on yer line thing; even i've never been a fan of that.
good thing my father took care of that on occasion for me. what a guy...
great post, jack
b
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