Thoughts, ideas, things on my mind. From the mind of a small town man who grew up in Northwest Ohio and now lives in Visalia, CA. Concerns and observations of our ever changing world. Whatever pops into my mind.
This is an old story. I'm 64 years old and this story is from when I was 10 or 12 years old. My Uncle Frank Rowe was a Methodist preacher and I think it may have been conference time. I stayed with Uncle Frank, Aunt Bev and their two boys, Steve and John at Lakeside.
One day Steve, John and I went down to the dock to fish. We used Frank’s fishing gear and we had pretty good success. When it was time to go, John took the stringer full of fish and started down the pier. He was feeling pretty happy. He was swinging the stringer around when it slipped out of his hand and went way out in the water. I was worried about losing Frank’s stringer. I wondered how much trouble we'd be in.
When Frank came home, he asked us how it went. John and I just looked at each other and didn't know what to say. We just thought we were in big trouble. But then Steve chimed in and said we caught six fish… but we threw them all back. We were off the hook, so to speak. Nothing else was ever said about it. Steve is a lawyer now. I'd say he is a natural.