Thread: Who Planted the Fishing Seed in Your Life?

Dad in his johnboat did me in��

Dad from the bank..... What to poor for a boat back then

My dad and grandfather, I'm forever grateful too. I've got an eight year old that I've done my best to pass the seed onto as well.

My Grandfather and Grandmother ..... (affectionately known to me as "Pa" & "Nannie")

Here's my "Pa" with a haul of Crappie, from one of his early years trips. Not sure what lake they came from, but it could be Cherokee Lake Tn, since I remember him mentioning fishing there.




Here's where I remember starting my fishing - Red Gate Dock, Herrington Lake (Ky). This would have been in the late '50s, for me. Picture is probably from the early '50s. You can see the "lockers" along the sides of the marina, where people stored their fishing gear. Dock floated on 55gal metal drums, where one can be seen under the far right end of the dock. The "rental" boats are tied in front ... flatbottom wooden rowboats. We had a 10HP Johnson Seahorse outboard, that we put on these boats. We had no trolling motor ... that was me and a skuttle paddle !!




And here's my Grandfather and his fishing buddy, Lawrence (& wife, Beulah) ... showing off a Catfish, while standing on Red Gate Dock.




And here's my Grandfather - all ready to head out Crappie fishing:




The Red Gate Dock collapsed, and has been removed from the lake (replaced by a newer marina) ... my Grandfather/Grandmother and Lawrence/Beulah have long passed ... but, my memories are not. Thanks to these people, this marina, and this lake ... fishing has kept me from going down the wrong path in life, and led me here.

(edited from a post from 2006)

That is my reply.

Dad was an alcoholic, Grandpa worked all the time, so I just decided one day to tag along with a neighbor friend of mine when they went to the local pay lakes. Funny thing is today I ,even though I struggle with it, I fish and my friend just doesn't care for it.

My father I would say but grandpa showed me how to catch frogs with a piece of red ribbon on a hook and I still remeber the day even though we lost him a while back

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For me it was my dad. He started me out blue gill fishing when I was about 3 and by the time I was 10 I was helping him run his trot lines and hoop nets for cats on the Wabash river. How I miss running the river with him.

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