Matt has enjoyed getting to go fishing a few times this spring. On his most recent trip he didn’t bring home any to eat but did catch several. I teased him that it really wasn’t fishing unless he brought some home for a fish fry.
He really enjoys fishing but hasn’t gotten to go much for most of the time we’ve been married. There was a spell back when the girls were young that he went tournament fishing often with friends but he didn’t enjoy that near as much as just plain ole fishing.
Fish is one of my favorite things to eat. When I was growing up my brothers and Pap went fishing often. Oh how good it was to have a fish fry. We all enjoyed it! To accompany the fish we’d have slaw, hushpuppies, and french fries. We thought we were eating high on the hog and I guess we were.
Often I’d beg and plead to go fishing with the boys and Pap. I’d promise to be patient and not want to come home because I got bored or tired of fighting the bugs and briars.
Most of the time Pap gave in to my pleading even though he knew well and good my promises were false and as soon as I tired of playing around the river I’d be asking if it was time to go home every other minute.
Even though I was a pain in their backside I have good memories of those times fishing with them.
Pap loved to tell about the time Paul caught a big carp and I got so excited I picked Paul up pole and all and started running up the bank to the woods to make sure he got the fish pulled in. I can still see the way Pap’s eyes would twinkle when he told that story.
Most of the time Pap fished either just below or just above where Brasstown Creek flows into the Hiwassee River. If we were on the river side Pap made sure to listen close in case they let water off to generate power at an unusual time.
One trip that especially stands out in my mind was farther down the river than Pap usually fished, much closer to Murphy than Brasstown. Now that I look back through the years I realize we were near the place Pap was born when his parents sharecropped on the Harshaw Farm.
As usual after we’d been there a while I started whining to go home. Pap enticed me to stay a little longer and go with him farther down the river. He found a large sandbar to perch on. There was a pool of water between the bar and the bank. Since the secluded area was away from the moving waters and wasn’t very deep it made the perfect place for me to play. Pap let me get in clothes and all. I was fascinated by the shiny sand and the millions of round smooth rocks and when it came time to go home that day I didn’t even want to go.
I’ll always look back fondly on the days Pap let me come too. I remember how safe I felt riding on his back as he stomped down the briars and weeds to make me a place to play beside the river.
Last night’s video: First Mess of Kilt Lettuce.
Tipper
Subscribe for FREE and get a daily dose of Appalachia in your inbox
❤️the ways you live.
I really enjoyed this letter. It made me think back on good “fishing” memories with my dad and brother. Not too many, and some better than others, but always fun. Today, May 9th, my dad would have been 90; we lost him 2 years ago.
❤️
Dear Tipper, How wonderful are our sweet memories. Thank God for them. Those times were sweet. God bless everyone today, tomorrow and always. And to all our beautiful, loving and precious momma’s, those living and those we’ve lost, we wish them all the happiness Mother’s Day. Here and in heaven above. I miss my momma and always will. She passed away on my birthday in 2016. I was 69 at that time. I was blessed to have had her till then. And to Miss Tipper, Corie and Katie and all the Acorn mother’s out there, Happy Mother’s Day!
Your beautiful fishing memories brought back many memories of my own. I was an only child but was blessed with many cousins that were boys. I would do the same beg to go fishing with them and my Dad, and promise to be patient and not beg to go home after only being on the river for a short time. Wonderful memories came running back as I read your writing. All those cousins were Commercial Fisherman and Crabbers on the Potomac River by trade. God blessed them all with a good career.
I won a fishing pole when I was about 6 in a contest where a landowner was trying to reduce the fish in his pond. Had my picture in the newspaper with my brother and cousins and other winners who fished too. My older brother who took me couldn’t bait my hook fast enough. He lost my pole not long after when he borrowed it to fish with a friend. When I was a teen my dad decided to use our mountain spring water to raise rainbow trout as a retirement project. He didn’t finish high school but read and researched, built concrete block runways and was successful even in spawning. When I met my husband in college who was studying fisheries biology, he and my dad got along very well. I never fished much because I can’t be in the sun. But we had many fish fries, especially if Daddy had a heavy rain that killed the trout or once when his cows got out and knocked the pipes to the spring loose. Trout are sensitive to oxygen levels in the water. We deep fried them in a large iron kettle over a fire and of course had hush puppies, cole slaw and all the trimmings. Nowadays I miss those fresh fish meals. It’s been fun watching the grandsons catch their first fish and carry on the family traditions. My son who lives close to you also has a fishing kayak but I’m not around when he brings any fish home. He says when he doesn’t catch any, “If you always caught some they would call it catching instead of fishing”. Matt and all of you will soon be able to watch your grandsons too. Thanks for the memories.
I have here an interesting little book titled “To Hell With Fishing” by Ed Zern ©1945. It’s probably not worth much because it’s only five years older that me and I ain’t worth nothing. The book is illustrated with cartoons portraying fishermen, their wives and their lying friends.
I don’t remember where I got the little book. I think it was from my deceased sister Freda. Maybe that’s why I like it so much.
What a great memory, Tipper! Thank you for sharing those memories! I can’t pick a favourite for sure, but I chuckled right out loud at the picture of you grabbing Paul “with pole” and running uphill! ❤️
I just read what you wrote and let my imagination draw the scenes for me-quite vividly I might add. You had a wonderful childhood many children only dream of. My grandparents were wonderful, but time was against them taking us fishing etc. cause they were elderly doing the best they could just getting around and putting food on the table for us all. In all my life, I was never loved, safe or cared for by anybody I thought more of. I reckon I might hurt or do worse to someone who bad mouthed my beloved mommy and Bobby. I sure miss them and the best part of getting older and weaker is it won’t be long now til I’m home again. But I ain’t gonna lie ya and I have to tell this- on a plane my sugar bottomed out and saw my guardian angel who looked like me but better. He never spoke but gave me a stearn look that let me know I would live. I also saw about 10 angels maybe 15 lined up behind him-had to have been others angels on that plane. But the thing that keeps me up at night and has since that day is this-out of 150 or 200 people on that flight, including babies and little ones, there were NO MORE THAN THAT… it indeed means wayyyy fewer are going into that kingdom than thinks they are. I’m actually terrified over what I saw or better yet did not see… God bless you and let me tell you you’re judged by your intentions and motivations and thoughts… lies and deceit will not help what’s on the inside screaming out as testimony on you day and night is gathered in heaven… it’s a scary thing I tell you!!!! Oh the best part of your memories was you dragging Paul-fish and all up the bank! I’d like to see that myself… that’s a PURTY fish Deer Hunter caught… I like his stripes so is he a stripy bass? I really can’t tell ya cause I ain’t no fisherman. The suckers steal my worm and I’m SOL every single time plus it’s boring and hot and too much talk runs off fish or so the men say… I’ll just stay at the house and not be a bother… lol
Sadie, I will stick my neck out and say it is a largemouth bass maybe a smallmouth bass. (Similar but different) I have never seen a smallmouth bass this far south except in pictures. South Carolina’s mountain Lake Jocassee may have some in it. I know for certain it is not a stripy -strip bass, among the many differences a strip bass is silver/ white color.
I cheated and Goooogled the picture. It’s AI says it thinks it’s a largemouth because of the “prominent dark lateral stripe running down its side and a jaw hinge that extends behind the eye.” I thought it was a largemouth too but my eyes ain’t what they used to be.
Beautiful precious memories . Your stories brought back many of my own as well . Thank you for sharing them . I hope you get enough for a fish fry soon 🙂 Love & prayers for you all . Praying for Papaw Tony .
Precious memories!! Oh, I remember my early years pond fishing. I loved fishing with daddy. He was busy with farming but if he got a little extra time, we’d go down to the pond. He taught me how to put a worm on the hook and eventually how to take a fish off the hook. Just about every Friday daddy would fry up some fish, mama made coleslaw, french fries or fried potatoes and hushpuppies. So good!
Also, I don’t want to leave anyone out that have had prayer requests. I am praying and I know our fellow acorns are to.
What sweet memories you have with your dad, Tipper. I remember my dad taking all four of us kids fishing. I was too young to realize we probably weren’t going to catch anything with our poles made of branches and our string ties on the end—no fishing line. I guess he tied a hook on the end. I really can’t remember. What I do remember is how fun it was to all go fishing together—even though we never caught a thing. Our oldest granddaughter loves to go fishing. Hubby (pap) has taken her to rivers and to a trout pond where you pay for the fish you catch. It is an awesome pond with freshwater running in it. They have so much fun together. On her last birthday, she turned 14, and she asked to go fishing. I think Pap has helped create a lifelong outdoor girl!
Good morning. Love your stories about fishing with Pap and brothers. I hope Matt can go fishing again soon.
After watching your video from last night , I’m wonder what type of lettuce do you sow in your garden. It looks so lush and beautiful.
Thanks Tipper for letting us have a glimpse into your Appalachian lifestyle!
Thank you! That was butter crunch lettuce 🙂
I enjoyed reading as you reminisced about fishing with Pap. Thanks for sharing
Your story of playing behind the sandbar makes me think Pap was creating memories for you and that was the big catch of the day. Parents and grandparents do those sorts of things, instill value in their children that they will not realize till long afterward. I’m sure you and Matt did the same for Katie and Corey as they are now for Ira and Woody. One could say it is another form of being fishers of men. As to fishing itself, it is like my woods walking, often not about catching but just being. In that case, catching is extra. I’ve posted about this before, but Dad’s way of fishing was waiting till “there came a big tide in Cumberland River” and it was muddy, into the woods and was floating all kinds of thing. Then he wanted to go catfishing. Most of the time it was to the Sand Cliff and the mouth of Marsh Creek. If he was catching he didn’t want to go home. But us two boys were ready before 10 o’clock. As he would say, “there’s been a lot of water under the bridge” since those days..
Memories…Tipper you reminded me of me! My dad used to go fishing a lot with a cousin on the Clinch River in Tennessee.& caught slot of crappy & those made a fine fish fry but had to be careful of the tiny bones. I was 5 or 6 & begged him to let me go… so would start whining to go home & he would give me his pocket knife to dig in the dirt to keep me busy so they could catch enough of a mess of fish to fry!
I must ask, since the river wasn’t wild (if they release water for power generation, there’s a dam, right?) did they also stock the streams? Even then, the 1970’s into the 80’s, there were tear-down-the-dams people who say that dams interfere with the breeding of many species, which means that anglers are going to have to be a pain in the behind (like Tipper says she was) to have rivers stocked. Duke Power or its equivalent, whoever owns the generator the dam feeds, is usually the one that’s asked to do “environmental mitigation” as a part of keeping their monopoly.
I’m not sure but I don’t think the river was stocked.
Those are beautiful memories. ❤️
I’ve always said I’d rather fish than eat, and have proved that many times. I haven’t had a fishing pole in my hands all year, and I’m missing that. My friend, who is a semi-pro fisherman, promised me a big mess of fresh crappie for allowing him to turkey hunt on my land. That will be some good eating, but they would taste better if I had caught them myself. I’m glad Matt got to go, even if he didn’t have much luck; he still had the time to relax and think. He will have a couple of little fishing buddies to make memories with before long.
thank you for the story Tipper, God bless you and have a great day
Good Morning, Acorns! This week at a thrift store, I found a wonderful old cookbook from 1949 called “The Bergen Cook Book.” It says on the front, “Compiled by the members of Bergen Ladies Aid Society, Bergen Lutheran Church, Roland, Iowa.”
Inside the front cover it has this inscription, which I wanted to share.
Recipe for a Day
Take a little dash of water
Add a little leaven of prayer,
Add a little bit of morning gold,
Dissolved in the morning air.
Add to your meal some merriment
And a thought of kith and kin,
And then as your prime ingredient,
A plenty of work thrown in.
But spice it all with essence of love,
And a little whiff of play,
Let a wise old Book and a glance above
Complete a well made day.
Tipper–As you well know fishing runs through my life with all the beauty and joy of a mountain creek. Pass on one thought to Matt, and it comes from Mom. She dearly loved to eat fish and was always delighted when I brought home a mess of trout. Any mention of releasing fish was, for her, unthinkable. She firmly believed in catch-and-release, but in her case it was release to hot grease.
Tipper, those were some lovely memories that you shared with us this morning. Pap knew what he was creating when he’d give in and take you♡ When I was 6 and my brother, 3, my grandpa (maternal) & dad , decided to build a small lake behind our home. We lived “on the farm” while grandpa & grandma lived in town. To say I had the best of both worlds would be an outrageous understatement. The lake was around 8 acres and fairly deep. 35′ near the damn behind our house. Watching it being built was truly magical!! My little brother liked trucks and dozers like your little Ira. One kind man, with my mom’s permission, let Rex “drive and operate ” the huge dozer every day at quitting time. He was in hog heaven!! Fast forward to the next year and that little fella fished every day!! I’d get dropped off the school bus at the end of our driveway and he’d be waiting to show me the mess of fish he’d caught. My dad taught me to clean fish so he didn’t have to lol What a happy memory today’s story brought back to me. As always, thank you for sharing and prayers to all who are fighting cancer, other medical and physical issues and the loss of loved ones. Having lost my mom and aunt in a fatal car accident in ’21 it’s getting a bit easier to celebrate Mother’s Day without them but for you, Tipper and others with fresh losses, I send hugs and prayers as you get past this first Mother’s Day without your guiding light.
Good morning Tipper and Acorns. We have awoken to another glorious day. TY Tipper for today’s post and last evenings video. Y’all are such a blessing in my life. I love going fishing. I don’t care if I don’t catch anything. It is just more time away from the distraction of every day and puts me closer to our FATHER. My focus can be on HIM and not me or life in general. What a blessing. I keep everyone here and up Wilson Holler in my prayers. I love y’all.
Very good post. I love fishing but haven’t gone in years. My aunt and uncle use to take me stripper fishing in Maine but never got any. When they stopped fishing due to health issues they gave all of their fishing equipment to me. There wad a time that I would get home from work about 6:00 PM and take one of my three sons fishing each night for about an hour. We lived across the street from a lake and I had a metal canoe on the lake. On Saturdays I would take all three boys fishing for a couple of hours. One time Chris my oldest son casted his line out but forgot to hold onto the pole and everything went into the water. He was upset but we still had plenty of tackle left from my aunt. I took my first wife fishing one night because she couldn’t understand my live of fishing. We were on the lake after dark and she could see what she thought were birds flying around us eating the mosquitos. When I to!d her what she was seeing were not birds but bats that was the end of her fishing with me. I’m with my brother in Florida now but will return to Murphy soon and will hope to take up fishing. I’m glad Matt got some fishing in. Praying for Tony.
Such sweet memories of your daddy! Takes you back to a simpler time doesn’t it?
Thank you for the fond memories you have with Pap & the boys. Nothing can take away those precious moments in one’s life. I’m so glad Matt had time to take a few fishing trips this spring. He caught a beauty.
Sweet memories of you, Papa and the boys. Matt may not have brought any fish home to fry, but he sure did catch pretty fish.
Thank you so much Tipper for the beautiful post and memory. It brought back memories of my husband and our sons going trout fishing on opening day. Sometimes my Dad and my brother would go too. Now my youngest son and my 3 grandsons accompany their PawPaw. They always come back with a mess of fish and a big fish story to tell. Thank you again and I wish you a Happy Mother’s Day!
Fishing is my favorite thing to do. I get so excited when I catch one. I just can’t help myself. I scream and holler and sling the fish way up on the bank. I guess I am spoiled when I get to go. I don’t get to go very often because we usually have to take our disabled daughter with us and as she has gotten older she is afraid of stepping on rocks to get close enough to the water. I have loved to fish in Douglas dam, Smoky Mountain creeks and Louisville lake. I have also fished at my sisters condo in Gulf Shores and Monroe and Loudon County. Wonderful memories. For many years I have not had a piece of fish of ANY kind to eat because I am deathly allergic to fish. It keeps me away from foods I love that are cooked in the same oil that fish are fried in. I pray for Matt’s dad Tony. I hope it is nothing serious. It is always scary when you are waiting and done know. My brother who is a Pastor of a small church in Sevierville where we grew up is preaching on Faith this Sunday and I asked him how do you know if you have REAL faith? I am a believer in Christ and I put my trust in him and the word alone. This old world is tough, but I know God will keep his promises. Happy Mother’s Day to everyone.
I never got to fish much, although I always enjoyed it. My husband and I fished together some while we were dating and in the early years of our marriage. I think the last time we went was when we managed to flip a canoe that the owner assured us was unflippable.
I love the sweet memories of your Pap and your brothers!
That was a nice catch Matt made! I don’t get the appeal of fishing but could sit and watch or better yet bring along a book to read!
That’s a beautiful post and memory.
Precious memories for sure! I’ve always longed for those with my dad. They are very few, but I treasure them.
Morning everyone. I also have fond memories of fishing. Way back when I was 18, Friends a me would get in the car and drive. Florida, the Carolinas or my favorite Tennessee. Well somewhere in Tennessee we would fish in one of the lakes and take the fish up to the restaurant. They would clean and cook it and make a meal to go along with it. It was the best. Then back to California. I knew a hunter and fisherman. So I had bear meat and Halibut from the fishing derby. Cat fish, Halibut, Swai and Tilapia are my favorite. The whiter type fish. June 1st will be 5 years here. The best hunting and fishing state. Big Lake a few minutes away from me and I haven’t fished in years. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up and have responsibilities. Anna from Arkansas.
Anna, many years ago a senior friend and I left Tallahassee, Florida and pulled a pop-up camper to Mountain Home, Arkansas, to sightsee and catch some trout. It was a delightful experience, and I’ll admit we caight our hatchery trout on Jolly Green Giant corn. We learned that from a local…and about now, reading this, a flyfishing purist somewhere just choked on his own spit.
Thank you for sharing such wonderful memories. So precious the time with our family.
Praying for your family! It’s hard having a loved one sick and y’all have had a lot lately. So hard on one’s heart and mind. Thankful for our precious Savior who carries us during these times.
Many blessings!
Debbie, I continue to pray for you and your loved ones. I couldn’t agree with you more about how precious time spent with your family is. I am afraid many don’t or won’t realize this until it is too late. Sunday, I will visit my wife’s grave and the graves of both mine and my wife’s mothers and grandmothers and then go by my sister-in-law’s for a small get together with some of the remaining members of my wife’s family. No one left in my own family. Outside of my salvation nothing more important or valuable than spending time with my three boys -one son and two grandsons. I will also add friends.
I did not have a river to fish in. Fishing in a couple of area farm ponds when I was growing up and later on in my adult life was a great joy of mine, I never owned a boat but have fished with others that did on the larger lakes. I would also work for neighbors doing whatever to try and make me $1 so I could go and fish in the area pay catfish ponds when I was a teenager. I have mentioned my father in law before and how much I enjoyed being with him, along in the 80’s and 90’s after I got on the day shift , there were not many summertime Friday evenings we did not go together to Lake Greenwood and fish until about midnight off a friend’s dock and catch “eating size catfish.” One night I caught a 12lb carp. Each year my wife’s entire family along with a few special family friends would have a big “get together” and fish fry on Labor Day. I never tried to count how many but the total probably would be 30-40 maybe a few more. We would cook the fish we and some other family members had caught earlier during the summer using my Coleman two burner propane fuel camp stove. The ladies might fry some chicken to go along with the fish and other good things to eat. The one doing the cooking had a of friend of his make a large stainless steel pan to fit perfectly on this two burner stove. Two things, if there were any cross words or anyone getting mad during these get togethers I never knew it and there was never a drop of alcohol to drink anytime we were together. Now this is just a another good memory from yesterday and yesterday is gone. Many of the ones that we did this with have now passed on. Fish and grease is my motto, even though I did release a lot of them. My wife’s grandfather would keep all fish he caught no matter the size, he like to say about the small ones “ you eat butterbeans don’t you, it’s big as a butterbean.”
Randy, your butter bean comparison reminded me of an elderly black lady who was fishing in a farm pond when I drove up. When asked if she’d caught anything, she replied, “Yassuh, I got ’bout a coffee can full.” She was okay with having butter bean bluegills for supper.