May 15, 2013
Today marks the 36th anniversary of my daddy and I going to Lake Whittington
in the Delta on a fishing trip. I remember this date as daddy would tell in the
years to come that it was May 15th and he had gotten paid that Friday. This
would be my first of many to the lake and when this comes around each year I am
always reminded of it. I want to catalog this memory for historical purposes
but also because I want to document that memories in the mind of a 5 year old
child can be very vivid and long lasting. Things that seem insignificant to
adults can seem like the grandest adventure to those small in stature but big
in imagination.
The details as to how the trip came about are lost but I do know that daddy
told me we were going bream fishing in the delta with Coach Fultz and his
daddy. I could hardly sleep the night before and as I prepared for bed I got a
pad and pen and drew a fishing boat with two people in it with fish under the
boat and put it by my bed.
We probably arose sometime around 3 am and headed out. My dad had recently
purchased a jon boat and trailer from someone in Morgan town. It was a nice
boat with a 6 horse Evinrude and outdoor carpet lining. This was to be its
maiden voyage. Thinking back I sometime imagine our journey leaving our small
town of Sturgis. I imagine watching from the darkened storefronts as our lights
drove past. I imagine all the people that were such an intergral part of my
life sleeping in their beds unaware of our passing. Into the inky blackness we
drove in my dads 1969 Chevy Pickup.
We were to stop in Ackerman and meet Coach Fultz just beyond the 4 way stop.
It was when we stopped that daddy realized that the trailer lights were not
working. So as we waited daddy jiggled the wires and performed some magic. My
job was to notify him of when they came on....lights now fixed and meeting up
with Coach we headed out!
I don't know our exact route but I must have fallen asleep soon thereafter.
Awaking later on in the dark truck only illuminated by the dashboard light was
daddy gripping the wheel and staring down the road.. 'Where are we?" I
asked. "Son, I don' t know where in the hell we are" was the reply.
As we were following Coach and daddy was trying to keep up. But we did arrive
safely at Nibblet Landing on the lake and wow was it a hub of activity! Boats, campers,
tents, and people galore! We went into the bait shop and bought all our
supplies....poles, hooks, line, corks, lead, ice, drinks, snacks, and 2 tubes
of crickets. I remember holding them to my chest and their legs felt like they
were stinging me....boy did I hollar!
We put the boat in the water and started following Coach to parts unknown. (
The boat ride seemed to last forever but I was to later find out we were not
all that far away from Benoit Hunting Club). We pulled through some willow trees
off the main lake and Coach directed us to a spot between two trees. I remember
his statement now as he slid past them. "There was some boys there last
week that tore them up!" Daddy slid the boat and tied us off while he
rigged our poles. I remember daddy having to pinch the lead shot on the line
with his teeth since he did not have a pair of pliers. I remember being scared
he was going to break his false teeth and telling him not to do it...his
response was "Aww son don't worry it'll be fine". He baited my hook
and in years later he would say "I just pitched it in between those trees
and turned to fix my own pole...only to hear John yelling..Daddy!! Daddy!! as
he pulled the biggest blackest bream I have ever seen!" He must have
thought it was just luck cause he baited my hook again and threw it back in the
same place as before...the cork never stopped as another huge bream made my
line start singing round and round. Before we knew it...the bottom of the boat
was a steady flopping of fish as daddy rebaited my hook and took the fish off.
We sat the rest of the day in that one spot and filled the ice chest to
almost overflowing. I remember thinking as I had given up fishing and staring
at the lake beyond the trees the late afternoon sun started its downward fall
and looking over the beautiful black water that this moment was special, that I
somehow needed to put it in my memory bank and remember the sights, sounds,
emotions that were going though me. How the light did flicker like gold that
day as King Midas ever did possess.
Daddy ,a practicing Baptist, informed me as we ran out of crickets that we
would spend the night in nearby Cleveland and return in the morning...a Sunday
morning... and try to catch some more.
Wows
were we ever heathens but the allure of spending the night in a motel overrode
any non-scriptural based guilt that this young child could have. Daddy called
momma from the bait shop and told her the news.
We drove to the town of Boyle and met with a long family friend named
Mr. Medders.
Mr. Medders used to have
some land that we had cows on and had moved to Boyle for work.
Daddy and I visited with the Medders family
and told them of our luck and plans to return.
Mr. Medders young son Haney said “Daddy we should go to! We have a
sailboat we could use!”
Mr. Medders look
on his face was enough to say…”We aint going in a sailboat on Sunday!”
I remember Mrs. Medders coming out to the
truck and she had a gold tennis racket necklace with a ball on the racket and I
thought that was so neat looking! I also remember during our visit that daddy
had put the tube of new crickets on the dash of the truck and I was fascinated
by it for some reason or another!
Off we
went to Cleveland and pulled into the Delta Motel.
It was a grand establishment and was probably
fairly new.
We got a room and I remember
putting the boat motor in the front seat to avoid thieves.
Daddy took me to eat at the restaurant at the
main office where I ate a hamburger and French fries made for me by friendly
woman with a warm smile.
Consequently
enough we ran into a young couple from the Louisville area that daddy
knew.
They were cooking fish in the
parking lot and even gave us some..man talk about full! The mans wife asked me
if I wanted some cookies and she took me to their room and gave me some Oreos.
I felt like a king.
Dad and I went to our room where I believe he
may have called momma again collect and I got ready for bed.
The bathroom had little bars of soap and you
better believe that I was going to take some of it home with me!
Daddy had turned the air conditioner on and
it felt so good to sleep in his arms with that steady hum.
Again we arose early to return to the lake.
Our friends from the motel were at the ramp and were soon following us
to our fishing spot.
I can still see the
sun rising as our boat ploughed through the water and the fog parted in front
of us.
We immediately started catching
fish again and filled the other cooler that daddy had bought at the bait shop
to capacity.
Daddy would often laugh as
a side bar that our motel friends came in on our spot later that morning and
asked daddy if they could buy a coke from us.
My daddy being the giving person that he was and I am sure as a penance
for having his young son on the water on a Sunday morning gave them two bottled
cokes.
After the cooler was full we decided to head back to our little town that
seemed so very far away.
I don’t
remember all that much about the return trip probably because more than likely
I fell asleep due to the past exciting two days that I had witnessed.
I do remember that the next afternoon daddy
incorporated the help of my Uncle Gerald and Jimmy Clardy to help clean the
fish.
For 3 hours they scraped and
gutted in the pine thicket of our back yard.
I remember this time well because I remember thinking that it also took
that amount of time to drive from our home to the lake.
I know that those that read this story will just view it as “just another
fishing tale”, and that is fine.
I
realize that our catch were not the mighty tarpon in an offshore adventure or a beautiful rainbow brought to rise by a well placed dry fly but
merely the common sunfish that inhabit many of the waters of our nation.
But to a boy of only 5 it was the things that
memories are made of.
It has forever ingrained itself in my mind. It has caused me to go back again and again to relive those moments and to make other memories. Every year after that the air would begin to warm, and the mere picture of a red wing blackbird would immediately transport me from my 5th grade class to that far shore. We made many more trips to that lake throughout the years. Camping and fishing and many more adventures would also come our way and even more memories made.
I write this to
the reader, whether father or mother, make good memories with your child our time
with them is so short but can be so long lasting. No time ever spent with a child is wasted, but is an opportunity to make a lasting impact on them in ways that you may never know.
Always tell them you love them and
show it through not only word but action.
I held my daddy’s weathered hand from a hospital bed in the final days of
his life almost two years ago now little knowing it would be our last
conversation.
“Daddy I want you to
know that I am so appreciative of what you have done for me.
I enjoyed all the times that we had together
and all the things that we did together.”
He calmly gripped my hand and through closed eyes in a moment of clarity
that only our Heavenly Father provided he said..”Son, I am glad you did but I
want you to know you may have enjoyed it but I enjoyed it more.
I just wish that we had more time
together.”
A few short weeks later and
he was gone.
As I stood by his grave
missing him so, I could almost hear him say from the other side. “Aw son, it
will be alright.”
Thank you God for the priviledge of being the son of James Elton Long.
May he lovingly rest peacefully in Your arms
until we meet again on that distant shore
.
