Fishing With Dad

Fishing With Dad

John Zaloom has been my friend for 100 years (figuratively speaking of course) and a little comment he made on a Facebook post made me so happy.
“Anybody who hung out with Will had to fish.”
Zaloom was so much smarter than me. Somehow he thought he could throw a football better, but I’ll have to let that slide because I wasn’t any good at it either. I shall not digress less my momentary lucidity pass…
I am a fisherman. My daddy, who’s birthday is today made me one. A damn good one, if I don’t say so myself. He also shaped me in so many other ways.
Dad taught me how to finesse a lure and about unique presentation… in life and on the water. There was never another Dave Nelson and there won’t ever  be. He and mom laid down a rough outline, taught me how to look a person in the eye, give a firm handshake and then go fishing. AKA.. Roll with it. 

When we fished, and because we did so often, we caught all manner of species of aquatic life. I once caught a triple tail in a foot of water. Another day, we waded into a hundred thousand baby sand eels. I caught momma, in darkness before dawn, as the water shown florescent green around me. We caught 50 blowfish on another traipse through the Bolivar pocket;  Didn’t know what they were until one expanded in Bubba’s hand. There was always a surprise on the end of the line. 

With an easy smile and sparkling blue eyes dad attracted a wonderful grab bag of friends, just like the fish. He taught us all how to welcome people and opportunity. He was kind to every person he ever met ( except for maybe a few Japs in 1942).  He fished. 
When I wasn’t fishing with dad I was dragging people to brickyard pond behind the old Red Carpet Inn, as John pointed out. The only time I ever went inside the hotel was a day dad picked us up from school early to meet Jimmy Carter during his run for the Presidency. However, I spent many waking hours behind the hotel fishing the little pond. Most of the time I was on a rock in the back left corner. That little rock was my best friend’s, Wilton Dalfrey, and my favorite spot. We made some big plans on that tiny island.  You see it was a little way out in the water.
I drug people on those trips because you could get to know one another. You could have adventures… see snakes, maybe an alligator!  You might also just catch something. Mainly though, you could be with a friend or two.  I have never thought about that much until the fortunate little post.
Thank you to Tommy Hurlburt, Allen Wynn, Zaloom and Shawn Grady for bringing to the forefront the memories I had stored away, but certainly not forgotten. Thanks to Wilton, wherever he may be, for all the fun days and for not letting me jump in the flooded flowing drainage ditch when it was apt to send me to the proverbial drain. Thank you Daddy for teaching me how to fish.

When you cast a line you never know what you might catch. Every once in awhile you might land a hard head, but in my experience the longer your bait is in the water the more keepers you’ll put in the boat. 

Thank you all for biting and creating my “live well”.  You have made life so much fun…

Every interaction we have makes an impression on someone. That point couldn’t have been more clearly pointed out in such a simple way today. Know that the little things you do and every kind word you say matters. In short, fish.
On what would have been my best friend’s 94th birthday I want to toast you all. I’d like to say, live, laugh, love and figuratively as well as literally, put a line in the water… You never know what you might catch.
William Joseph Nelson.