Fishing Results

This just in:  

      Photographic evidence has arrived from our planted "mole" in the northern reaches of Michigan's lower peninsula. I wondered about how successful the Father's Day fishing expedition had been; I now have proof of who knows their fishing skills.

First of all, these guys must have been telling each other jokes or something while the fish swam by...

On the other hand, this young fisherperson was hard at work going after the biggest specimen the lake had to offer, with excellent results!

Good job, Sweetheart! Nice catch!

Father's Day 2011

This past Sunday was Father's Day and it was a very good day for this dad. My youngest son—who lives about 120 miles north of me—had contacted me about meeting, so we arranged to meet for lunch halfway between his home and mine, in the town of Big Rapids, home of Ferris State University---where both of my sons attended and graduated years ago.

Sunday morning, on my drive north I was within 20 miles of Big Rapids when my cell phone rang. The call was from my oldest son who lives near Boston. I got to speak with him and my two far-away grandsons before arriving in Big Rapids. Amazing timing! Father's Day was shaping up to be a great day.

When I arrived in Big Rapids, we decided to have lunch at a local establishment where we could share a cold adult beverage or two while eating and having great conversation. We had lots to catch up on since we hadn't been together in months (shame on us!). One of our main topics was about his little ones and how they were doing. Among lots of other things, he mentioned that they had been asking to go fishing, something they all loved to do.

This morning, I found the following photo in my email Inbox. I'm still smiling since I now know they did make that little fishing trip later Sunday afternoon, and because this photo is the epitome of a Happy Father's Day.

Knowing this little guy as I do, I can tell there's
joy and anticipation written all over his face.
Perfect. 

My Roots...My Foundation

Back in the early 1990s, I set off on a search for my family history. It was an extremely interesting and informative journey.

My roots from relatively recent history can be found in the coal-rich hills of southeastern Kentucky. Both of my parents and my oldest sister were born there, as were their parents.

I treasure the following photo; it was taken around 1920 and shows my grandfather, either on his way to work or having just come home from the coal mine (note the carbide lamp on the brim of his cap), along with a few of his children. The young one in his arms is my father, at around age two I would guess.

My great-grandfather also was born, lived and died in those Kentucky hills, but unfortunately my genealogical search ended with my great-great-grandfather. I found him living in Kentucky as a young man, but could not trace his life back further to his birthplace, hard as I tried. Rumor has it he came there from North Carolina, but I could not find evidence to support that claim.

Looking back to those Kentucky hills, I find it gratifying to know I come from good, hard-working stock—people that etched out a livelihood by risking their lives going underground day after working day. Knowing that fact makes the heavy traffic of my commute to a warm, comfortable office seem much less problematic.

Let’s get even more basic, I keep a photo of a “back house” in one of our 3 bathrooms to remind me of how easy I have things today.

There’s nothing like the smells, the little creatures, the cold seat and the necessary walk to a back house to help you appreciate the comforts of home and to make all those petty problems of life melt away.