The Pond

I have often wondered at times what hobby I would have taken up if my Dad and yes my Mom hadn’t shown my brothers and I the joy of fishing. When I say my Mom, I should explain; I can remember my younger brother and I fishing with our Mom in the three acre pond located near our house. I was six and my brother was four and we love the outdoors especially when it involved fishing. My Dad would cut cane poles from the cane break located below the levee of the pond each year for us to fish with. By the end of the fall we had broken the tip off of one or sometimes both poles, so we would use Mother’s cane pole to finish the season. These were not your ordinary cane poles; they were designed to withstand a heavy catfish and sometime a stocky largemouth bass. Dad would use a piece of tape to attach the end of a mono light from the mid section of the pole and wrap it around the pole all the way to the end leaving at least 10 ft. of mono to fish with. Tape was wrapped every foot to whole the line in place on the pole. Dad would tell us that the tape served as the guides, although none were there my brother and I never knew the difference. I can still see the green tape on those poles. With poles in hand we would follow Mother to the pond at least once a week. That was the highlight of our week getting to go to the pond and catch bluegill and catfish. Our other highlight was getting to go swimming on the weekends with our older brother who worked at my Dad’s sawmill during the week. My Dad had bought him a green 52 Ford Sedan, and he would always carry it to the pond on weekends to wash it and get it spic and span for his Saturday night date. My brother and I would help him wash the car and then get to go swimming with him afterwards. The pond is where both of us learn to swim before we were seven.

The swimming was fun but our favorite was the cane pole fishing we did with our Mom and our Dad who would fish with us on some weekends. Owning and operating the local sawmill took up most of his time; so when we got to fish with Dad it was really special because then only then were we allow in the boat. Dad would paddle us around the edge of the pond letting us fish every stump with our cane pole rigged with grasshopper and bobber. During the boat excursions was when we thought we were fishing on a huge lake; the boat added that imagination for two young boys willing to listen and follow every word Dad was telling us as we meandered around the edge of the pond. The thrill of landing bluegill and catfish around most every stump brought out the excitement in both of us. Those are memories I will never forget, because the pond is where I found my life long hobby. It is also where my younger brother who is gone now, but not forgotten found his as well. My Dad and Mom use the pond as a teaching tool not only for fishing time but for quality time spent with the family as well. Numerous picnics, church baptizing, and holiday outing were spent at the pond. No computers, internet, twitter, or television, to entertain just the pond, times were good!!!



This image was taken this past fall showing all that is left of the once large pond, we enjoyed as young boys. Erosion and tree lines have filled in large portions of the waters edge. The spring that feeds the pond is still active and is all that sustains the water level now.

I couldn’t leave this post today without giving some love to my boyhood hobby; the Muddler Moth was at work on Smith this past Tuesday.  


I have often wondered at times what hobby I would have taken up if my Dad and yes my Mom hadn’t shown my brothers and I the joy of fishing. When I say my Mom, I should explain; I can remember my younger brother and I fishing with our Mom in the three acre pond located near our house. I was six and my brother was four and we love the outdoors especially when it involved fishing. My Dad would cut cane poles from the cane break located below the levee of the pond each year for us to fish with. By the end of the fall we had broken the tip off of one or sometimes both poles, so we would use Mother’s cane pole to finish the season. These were not your ordinary cane poles; they were designed to withstand a heavy catfish and sometime a stocky largemouth bass. Dad would use a piece of tape to attach the end of a mono light from the mid section of the pole and wrap it around the pole all the way to the end leaving at least 10 ft. of mono to fish with. Tape was wrapped every foot to whole the line in place on the pole. Dad would tell us that the tape served as the guides, although none were there my brother and I never knew the difference. I can still see the green tape on those poles. With poles in hand we would follow Mother to the pond at least once a week. That was the highlight of our week getting to go to the pond and catch bluegill and catfish. Our other highlight was getting to go swimming on the weekends with our older brother who worked at my Dad’s sawmill during the week. My Dad had bought him a green 52 Ford Sedan, and he would always carry it to the pond on weekends to wash it and get it spic and span for his Saturday night date. My brother and I would help him wash the car and then get to go swimming with him afterwards. The pond is where both of us learn to swim before we were seven.

The swimming was fun but our favorite was the cane pole fishing we did with our Mom and our Dad who would fish with us on some weekends. Owning and operating the local sawmill took up most of his time; so when we got to fish with Dad it was really special because then only then were we allow in the boat. Dad would paddle us around the edge of the pond letting us fish every stump with our cane pole rigged with grasshopper and bobber. During the boat excursions was when we thought we were fishing on a huge lake; the boat added that imagination for two young boys willing to listen and follow every word Dad was telling us as we meandered around the edge of the pond. The thrill of landing bluegill and catfish around most every stump brought out the excitement in both of us. Those are memories I will never forget, because the pond is where I found my life long hobby. It is also where my younger brother who is gone now, but not forgotten found his as well. My Dad and Mom use the pond as a teaching tool not only for fishing time but for quality time spent with the family as well. Numerous picnics, church baptizing, and holiday outing were spent at the pond. No computers, internet, twitter, or television, to entertain just the pond, times were good!!!



This image was taken this past fall showing all that is left of the once large pond, we enjoyed as young boys. Erosion and tree lines have filled in large portions of the waters edge. The spring that feeds the pond is still active and is all that sustains the water level now.

I couldn’t leave this post today without giving some love to my boyhood hobby; the Muddler Moth was at work on Smith this past Tuesday.