The Father's Day memory that will forever stay in my heart was in 1967. The Rod & Gun Club that my father belonged to was holding a fishing contest for their member's children. This was not only a Rod & Gun Club, but also a State Game and Fish Hatchery. The pond where the fishing contest was to be held, was filled to it's brim with brown and rainbow trout.
I was the tomboy of my dad's girls and was excited, when I found out that he had entered me. Finally the day had arrived and you can imagine my excitement when we walked up to that large pond. There were dozens of eager children with fishing poles in hand, surrounding it's banks.
My dad and I circled the pond three times before he found the perfect spot where I would cast. He was an avid fisherman since he was a small boy and knew everything there was to know about this sport. He patiently rigged up my pole as I harassed the night crawlers that we had gathered from our garden, earlier that morning.
The loud speaker finally announced that the gun to start the contest would be sounding in exactly one minute. My dad was giving me a few last minute instructions. After the gun had sounded he would no longer be allowed to help me. Just as I grasped my pole that was leaning against our folding chair, an older lady tripped over some unforeseen object and came crashing sideways into us. Simultaneously as the starting gun sounded, I was picking up my pole that was now in two pieces.
I was almost in tears. Not because my day was ruined, although I thought it was. Not because every kid and their brothers, cousins and sisters had already caught their first fish of the day. I was almost in tears, because I know my father and I thought he was going to completely, blow his stack.
To my surprise, he didn't say a word to the lady as he helped her up, although I did notice his brown eyes squinting just like Clint Eastwood's eyes in the movie, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly." He asked one of the fishing refs to please keep an eye on me and told me he would be back soon. I was thankful that he didn't yell or embarrass that poor lady any more then she had already embarrassed herself. I figured that he left to go walk off some steam.
My dad was a huge man. When I say huge I mean well over 6 feet tall, 240 pounds with the look of a football player who forgot to take his shoulder pads off, after the game. He was a Korean War Veteran and an honored marksmen-sharpshooter-expert for the United States Marines. I loved my dad very much and although very rarely directed towards me, I was always weary at what he may be capable of doing when angered by others.
Although, I was feeling somewhat sorry for myself thinking that I wasn't even in the race for a prize, I was also very excited watching the other children screaming with delight on their catches. I even found myself cheering on a little boy, who was trying his best to reel in a small brownie trout on his own.
In what seemingly felt like hours, my father returned. He had another fishing pole in his hand. He had walked back to our car which was at least a mile away and retrieved his pole from the trunk. He walked the mile back to the pond and proceeded to his tackle box to hook up my line.
There was only a few minutes left before the contest was to end and not many fish left for the taking, but I was just excited to get my line wet. My first cast went right into a tree branch. I just knew my dad was going to explode this time, but he didn't and with sympathetic pity, the tree released my hook and worm.
My next cast was actually very good, but I just wasn't getting any bites.The fish who were previously ravenous, were already in the other children's fishing creels. It was almost time for the contest to end and the gun to be sounded when I felt a bite. My Dad was giving instructions, but I just vaguely heard his voice. I knew I had myself a big one and I was just praying I didn't drop the pole or break the line. I managed to reel him in about 2 minutes before the gun sounded to end the contest. It was now time for the weighing and measuring to begin.
Making our way up to the tent for the weigh-in, I didn't quite know just what a trophy I had, until I started scanning the other children's catches. When it was my turn to hand over my one and only fish, what a catch I had! My rainbow trout weighed in at 2 3/4 pounds and was 20 inches long. I was the sole winner for weight and length for "age group seven."
My winning prize was a Timex watch with a bright red "pleather" wrist band. I wore that watch proudly until my pleather band started cracking, peeling and finally disintegrated into thin white twine.
I remember that Father's Day in 1967 clearly as one of my best memories I shared, with my now deceased dad. I am thankful he entered me in the fishing contest on his Father's Day. I am grateful that my dad was able to hold his temper when my pole was accidentally broken. I am always tickled pink remembering that it was I, who caught the catch of the day. But, out of everything that I hold precious in my heart, I am most honored and blessed to be forever known as, "Big Steve's" daughter!
