Keep him in my memories, this story is dedicated to him, Terry Wayne Smallwood passed away Dec. 30, 2014...... Remembering my fishing trip My cousin and I grew up together, the best of friends, and we both loved to fish. In fact, we always wanted to go fishing, trying to catch those big fish for our grandmother to cook. I can even remember this one time, my cousin and I were about ten-- actually I was 2 months and a day older—and we decided to head into town to try our luck in a branch of the river, now known as the town branch or sewer system. We were really excited to be fishing and as soon as we got our lines into the river, someone yelled and told us that anything we would catch out of that water wouldn’t be worth keeping. A little bewildered, we stopped what we were doing, imagining what we might have caught there and decided to try our luck at the lake. Heading back to our grandparents house on Georgetown Street, after our quick fishing venture, I decided we would head out toward the lake the next day because it was too late to go there then. Since I was the oldest, my cousin didn’t argue and we both decided that fishing in the lake was the best idea. Since the skies were clear and there wasn’t a cloud in sight, my best buddy and I got ready to head for the lake. We were still packed from the day before, so we threw our rod and reel across our shoulders, grabbed our tackle boxes, picked up a couple of jelly sandwiches and this fishing trip got underway. We headed out to the other side of town and finally made it to Broadway, which meant we were close, or so we thought. We didn’t see any lake and we just kept walking and walking before we saw a road sign that said Ashland Avenue. Now, we figured we were almost there, but still nothing, so we walked some more. Just as we were about to give up we saw it, this big lake butted up to Circle 4 highway. It was starting to get late, and since we must have walked for at least 4 hours our stomachs were roaring to be feed, so we took a little rest and ate our sandwiches. Then, it was time to fish. We settled down beside each other, got our fishing gear together and baited our hooks with night crawlers that we brought with us. Those suckers must have been a foot long, but we managed to get them on our hooks and threw out our first cast. We sat there on the side of the bank for a long time and didn’t get a single bite. Thinking maybe we weren’t out in the water far enough, we added some weight and we sat and waited some more. Still no bites, so we added some more weights and I also decided that this time I was going to cast my line half way across the lake. I rose up and slung that line with all my might. At this same time, I heard my cousin yell, stop, just as I was pulled backward. I turned and saw him standing and holding my line. It was then that I realized, my hook was stuck in his nose. Quickly throwing my pole down, I ran toward my cousin, and when I got to him I could see that he was holding that line tight to his nose. I told him to take his hands down and I yanked and jerked on that fish hook, but the more I pulled, the deeper it went. Some other people that were fishing near us came running over to see what was wrong. After looking at his nose, they suggested that we cut the line and then they would take us to the hospital. With shaking fingers, I cut it about 2 feet from his nose and helped get my cousin into their car. Then, I loaded up our poles and tackle boxes, put them in the trunk, and jumped into the back seat, nervously waiting to get to the hospital. The ride to the hospital was sort of an adventure of its own, because we seldom got to ride in a car, since no one in our family had one. We probably would have enjoyed it more if my cousin wasn’t hurting, and as I sat beside him I could see some tears in his eyes, as he held both hands to his nose. I felt really bad for what had happened and sad because there was nothing that I could do to help him. We did get to the hospital pretty fast though and the man who drove, stopped his car to drop us off at the sign marked ER. I jumped out of the car, with my cousin right behind me, and as I shut the door I thanked this kind gentleman for the ride. We were both running and when we got inside; I turned to look at my cousin. He had dropped his hands from his face and, oh my God, in all the confusion, we had forgotten all about the foot long night crawler that was hanging from his nose. Both of us started laughing and just as I fell to the floor because he looked so funny, the doctor came through the door. This sight didn’t seem to faze him or the nurses and they quickly took my cousin into a back room, while I waited for him. He wasn’t gone too long and when he came out into the waiting room, he had a big bandage on his nose. Since he wasn’t laughing anymore and because I felt sorry for him, I didn’t laugh either. We did laugh a few times on our walk back home though, but not when we realized we had forgotten our fishing gear. We really didnt feel like laughing at all then, since we figured we wouldn’t be going fishing again for quite a while. It’s been 48 years since that memorable fishing trip with my cousin and we are still the best of friends. Staying close through the years we still do many things together too, but fishing is not one of them. You see, my cousin told me, on that fateful day and with a straight face, that he would never go with me again. I have to admit I laughed when he said it, but he really meant it and I didn’t blame him one bit.
Posted on: Wed, 31 Dec 2014 01:09:28 +0000
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