I Guess It's In My Genes

I don't remember the first time I caught a fish, but I do remember that my Daddy was with me because he had taught me what to do. He taught me how to put a cricket on a hook which is a little different from putting a worm on a hook.

In the attic of our family grocery store, my grandfather had set up 3 or 4 casket boxes (not caskets ... just the boxes that were shipped in) and lined them side by side. When one approached, you got the feeling you were entering a multiple-body funeral, but the loud chirping of the crickets gave it away. There was an electric light inside each box and it was always on, so when you raised the lid of the box there was an instant of sensory overload of light, odor and the now unmuffled sound of the crickets. Big Daddy (my grandfather) also raised worms but they were kept in the back yard of his house. He spent countless hours keeping his worms in the best of conditions by adding dirt and water whenever needed. He also fed them something but I don't remember what. That man loved to fish and if there ever lived a human being who caught more fish than he ... I would love to hear about him. He would put his precious worms in little white plastic containers and bring them to the store and place them in a refrigerator. Everyone in town knew that if you needed worms or crickets, Goddard's store was the place.

Big Daddy and his friends would march all through the Flint River Swamp and fish all of the special places. I remember that one of the places was called Chalky Hole because he took me there one afternoon where I caught the biggest bream I have ever caught. I could only have been 7 or 8 years old! He loved to fish and he taught my father, Big Ed, the love of fishing also. I don't know what the attraction is because I don't really like to eat fish, but there is something about hooking a bass, bream, catfish or later in my life ... trout and the feel of the fish trying to escape the grasp of the hook.

Also, some of my fondest childhood memories are of the hours spend fishing with my Father and my Grandfather (Big Daddy)! I guess it's just in my genes.

On many occasions, my grandmother, Lucy, would fish with my grandfather and I remember that they would often travel to places and return with strange, big fish! Fish that were far to big to have been caught in the local area. I was to learn that they came from the ocean. Later in my life, I became a fan of deep-sea fishing! I guess it's just in my genes. (this picture was taken in the early 50's)




Our family would vacation to south Florida every summer to Fort Myers to visit my mother's mother. We would rent a cottage at the beach and my father would be gone for several hours and return with several big fish called Snook. My mother would cook them and it seems like we had fish every single day of our vacation. As I got older he would teach me about snook fishing and we would rent small boats and go out for the day. I loved catching all of the strange and new types of fish. I loved coming back to the dock and watching the men with big knives clean those fish and throw the entrails to the pelicans. I also loved going to the numerous piers and fishing there all day. The birds, the smells, the ocean breezes ... I loved it all. I guess it's just in my genes.




This July (2007), my family and I went to Destin, Florida along with my old buddy Dennis Parks and his wife Zetta. We played a few rounds of golf, ate some seafood and of course we fished. This time we got into some King Mackeral. They are real fighters and it is a blast to catch them, Dennis had chartered a boat with captain and first mate just for us three: Dennis, me and my son Mitch! We had a ball and from the look on Mitch's face when he fought the mackeral, I believe it's in his genes also.

I reckon fishing is sorta like golf ... you just pass on the love of it to the next generations.

Sorta like its in one's genes!