My dad taught me how to fish and started taking me with him at a early age. We would mainly fish for crappie or stripe under the light at Cookeville boat dock on their fishing dock with minnows till after midnight on saturday nights. We would wrap up when it started turning colder down in the fall, and about 9 o'clock or so he would tell me a good cup of coffee and a hamburger from the restaurant's dock sure would taste good, wouldn't it, and I would gladly go and pack us something back to drink and eat. When my brother got his boat we would all go down to cordell hull and fish up in martins creek for hours during the day time. I can still hear him say today "boys we need to be at the house doing some work" and my brother would tell him that he's ready to go when ever he is. And dad would say "let me catch another one or two and we'll go". We usually stayed aleast another hour or more. The good lord seems like only takes the best home with him sometimes and did so in the blink of a eye 22 years ago one sunday evening this coming september three months before he was ready to retire from public work. What I wouldn't give for one more day with him.


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