Animals In Appalachia Appalachia

The Sinner was a Swimmer

Today’s guest post was written by J. Wayne Fears.


Not all the characters that frequented the remote mountain community of Tater Knob lived there. There was Catfish Gibson who had the reputation of being one of the best fishermen in the county. A cousin of Snake Baker, Catfish lived on the banks of the Tennessee River down in the lower part of the county. Catfish, like Snake, had an aversion to bathing on a regular basis and, according to Chipmunk’s dad, lived in an old shack that was made mostly of tin that had been blown off barn roofs from a tornado some years back.

Catfish, a 31 year old bachelor, came by his nickname honestly. He had big eyes that were more on the side of his head than in the front. (Jenny declared that the whites of his eyes were more yellow than white, and it was true.) His sun baked leathery skin was a dark brown-green color like a big yellow catfish. His head was mostly bald, but where there was hair over his ears, it was long, jet black and greasy looking. He sported what he called a mustache that consisted of a few long stiff black hairs growing under his nose that stuck out to each side of his face just like the whiskers on a big catfish. In low light conditions Catfish looked a lot like a catfish, thus his name.

Catfish was a true river rat and a full time fisherman. During the summers, he worked occasionally as a mussel fisherman on the Tennessee River. More often than not he had trotlines stretched across any little creek mouth that emptied into the river near his house. He sold fresh catfish to several restaurants in town and was known for getting into other trotliner’s live boxes and stealing fish. When the garfish were on the surface in hot weather, Catfish would be after them with his bow and fish arrows. When the red horse ran up Flint River to spawn, Catfish would be on a shallow gravel bar with a snatch-hook rig. During the dog-days of summer, Catfish would spend days catching catfish by diving into the deep holes in the Flint River and using his hands to bring up the big fish. It was called “grabbling” in those days and catfish was the hero of every would-be grabbler in the valley. Chipmunk, Jenny, Punky and I considered ourselves grabblers and often spent days at a hole in the river with Catfish studying his technique.

One hot summer day Catfish suddenly showed up at the old grist mill at the river unexpectedly and told Snake that he needed to stay with him for an unspecified length of time. It seemed that Catfish had gotten into the wrong trotliner’s live box on the Tennessee River and a few shots were fired at Catfish as he fled. He knew it would be some time before he could safely return to the big river and his shack.

We welcomed our mentor’s unexpected time to spend with us on the river and we used it well, perfecting our grabbling techniques, setting set hooks along the river and building a flat-bottomed boat from plywood that Catfish came up with from some unknown source.

One September weekend Punky invited Catfish to attend church at the valley Primitive Baptist church with his family. Punky thought it would help his own standing in the Tater Knob community if he were seen in public with such a famous fisherman. Well Catfish got religion, some said it was the recent shooting that motivated him, and within a few weeks word spread throughout the valley that Catfish was going to be baptized on Sunday at the Rat Tan Hole in the Flint River. No one ever thought that Catfish’s soul would ever be saved and so the baptism drew a big crowd.

Sunday afternoon after church, and dinner on the ground, the crowd drove down the dusty field road to the Rat Tan Hole. Chipmunk, Jenny, Punky and I wanted a front row seat to see Catfish being saved so we climbed out on a huge tree limb that hung out over the river. The baptism would take place right in front of us.

The Reverend Daniel, in his white robe waded out into the river and we could see that he was having trouble standing in the near waist deep swift water. He turned and in a booming voice invited Catfish, in his white robe, to join him. Catfish had a big grin on his face and waved to us as he joined the Reverend in the water.

After some praying, the Reverend put one hand in the small of Catfish’s back and the other on his chest and pushed him in backwards under the water. The Reverend stumbled and we could see instantly that something wasn’t right. The Reverend almost fell, face first, into the swift water. Regaining his footing, he turned to the crowd, wide-eyed, and held up his hands with no Catfish.

The crowd gave a loud gasp; someone said something about the devil claiming one of his own. Men came running down to the river’s edge. Someone shouted, “Get a boat.”

Then some 20 yards downstream, popping up from the rivers surface, was Catfish with a big green-tooth grin on his face. He pulled his hands up out of the water holding a big catfish by the mouth. A cheer arose from the crowd.

We clapped from our watery perch. Our fishing mentor had scored big.

I hope you enjoyed J.Wayne’s post as much as I did! Makes me wish I could have been at tbat baptizing.

The biggest catfish I ever saw was in the back of an old orange Monte Carlo car. I was still a teenager running around town. We stopped at Hardees and on the way in this man had a crowd around the trunk of his car looking at the fish. It took up the entire trunk and in those days car trunks were pretty good sized. He was literally shaking as he told about catching the big fish in Hiwassee Lake.


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  • Reply
    Brad Byers
    September 7, 2021 at 10:35 am

    Great story! I was reminded of the old hymn/song “The Baptism of Jessy Taylor” I heard years and years ago. I, too, was baptized in a creek. Sugar Mill Creek to be exact, at a place called Tommy’s Rock. It was belived by some to be good luck to be baptized in flowing water like a creek or a river because your sins are washed downstream. Great memories.

  • Reply
    Pippin baker
    August 11, 2021 at 5:39 pm

    OH Tipper, I laughed at that story,,,,, AND y’all had a BAKER over there too, SNAKE BAKER. MA’AM I laughed to split my sides,, I can just see in my mind’s eye CATFISH what a sight…. Well that’s made my day over here, I will have the biggest fun time sharing this story with my forever family,,,[ slim pickin’s over here lol] However, Woolyworm, who loves watching you now I told him about your utube n all, will get a laugh, !! He’s not working today, so I’m going to phone him n have a talk, I just love to hear his voice, such a drawl, I JUST LOVE YOUR SOUTHERN ACCENT. IT IS MUSIC TO MY EARS!! :))God be with you n yours ALL DAY N tomorrow as well \0/\0/\0/ Miss Pippi[ probably related to Snake hahahaha!!

  • Reply
    Ken Roper
    September 10, 2020 at 1:18 pm

    I enjoyed Mr. Wayne Fear’s story about the Catfish Man. You hardly ever find someone who writes as well as he does.

    When Me and Harold was young things, we’d get a toe-sack and go up into Emmit’s Meadow and sein minners and molleys.
    Ever once in awhile we’d see a water dog, but our Feists wouldn’t have anything to do with them. They’d bark to let us know, but they couldn’t stand the taste.

    Edmond Holloway caught a Hush Puppy (thats what we called a Water Dog) about 24 or 25″ long and drug it thru the fire. Of course the line snapped as soon as he did that. We were camped bellow what use to be Tote and Tarry’s on the Beautiful Nantahala River for 4 days.

    A fellow by the last name of Mashburn ran the store in the daytime, and we liked him. We’d go up the railroad tracks to the store and get us a Dope and Moonpie. They were almost Cold as Bigfist’s, back home, but they didn’t have mush-ice like Bigfists did. I will always remember those times as long as this Mountain Boy lives. …Ken

  • Reply
    aw griff
    September 10, 2020 at 12:54 pm

    J. Wayne Fears sure can write a good story. This made me think of a character I knew. Pig Parks went shirtless through the summer and often had a good size python wrapped around his shoulders. When he didn’t have the snake he carried a fighting rooster. He raised game hens and roosters which he fought at the illegal chicken fights. I slipped off to one of those fights and there was Pig with one of his roosters. His rooster was losing and bloody. Pig put the rooster’s head in his mouth and I suppose to give it extra oxygen. Don’t know for sure. Well anyways his chicken lost and all the losing and severely damaged roosters got their neck rung. I never slipped off to another cock fight, not sure what Dad would have done if he had known.

  • Reply
    Sanford McKinney Jr
    September 10, 2020 at 12:10 pm

    My comments are given in fun: Sounds like a fisherman’s tail to me.

  • Reply
    Ann Applegarth
    September 10, 2020 at 11:17 am

    What a wonderful story! I can just see it! I sent it on to every fisherman I know!

  • Reply
    Gene Smith
    September 10, 2020 at 10:45 am

    I love catfish stories, and Wayne’s yarn was a good one. I know his writing well. His walls are papered with award certificates and cancelled checks.

  • Reply
    September 10, 2020 at 10:14 am

    What a story!

  • Reply
    Rick Shepherd
    September 10, 2020 at 9:33 am

    Enjoyed this story of Catfish Gibson on the Flint River……However, in researching the location I found there are Flint Rivers in Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee and Alabama……Am I correct in guessing that the location is in Tennessee south of Nashville?…..Thanks!

  • Reply
    September 10, 2020 at 9:23 am

    Delightful story!

  • Reply
    gayle larson
    September 10, 2020 at 8:51 am

    What a great story. We need some characters like Catfish today to put a little humor back in our lives.

  • Reply
    Darrell Keith Cook
    September 10, 2020 at 8:45 am

    Thanks Tipper. I enjoyed that fish story. Many years ago we fished in the Hiawassee river and mostly caught carp, catfish and water dogs. Most people away from the mountains have never heard of, or seen water dogs. They are curious looking four legged creatures with rows of sharp teeth. Maybe someone can tell me more about them. I think they must live only in cold mountain streams.

  • Reply
    Miss Cindy
    September 10, 2020 at 8:39 am

    Now that’s a story Tip. Not many folks can tell a story that good. I’m awful glad he got saved in the end!

  • Reply
    September 10, 2020 at 8:05 am

    I read this story yesterday in Mr, Wayne Fears book Chipmunk, Punky, Sometimes Jenny and Me. This book is a fun book to read, but one of the best stories in the book is A Father Day Letter. Another fun book of his is Buck & Wart-Backcountry Letters.

  • Reply
    Margie Goldstein
    September 10, 2020 at 7:45 am

    Catfish was definitely a unique and one of a kind, wasn’t he? I am intrigued by noodlers on tv who reach into holes to get the catfish. I think if I did that, I would get a turtle to bite off my hands or fingers. So call me scared. Catfish got saved and baptized and caught a catfish all together so it was a win/ win situation. Lol They say there are catfish in a lake close by that are as big as Volkswagens! I’d like to see that for certain! Have a great day and to fishermen, I hope todays the day you get the fish who’s gotten away many times!!! God bless all BP& A readers!

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