A Wonderful Childhood Memory
As one gets older there are certain things that you look back upon with a sense of joy. These memories are sometimes magnified to be even bigger than life . . . you have them “etched’ in your mind and if you live to be 100 you will still cherish those thoughts. Well one of those memories has harbored in my mind for quite some time until I decided to do something about it. I went to the local library to look through microfiche newspapers to see if I could find my memory in one of the categorized reels. I found what I was looking for and with that I have a story to tell.
As a young kid growing up close to the Rock River I used to spend hours during the summer months fishing with friends along the river. Those truly were the days! It seemed back then that our summers were endless and that the fun was everlasting. I think back to this time with a real sense of joy. On this one particular day I went fishing to Lagoon Park, which was about a block or so from my home. This park was a playground where all the kids in the neighborhood would play along the river. I remember how we used to fish back then for carp with bread balls. No worms but bread balls! To make a bread ball you first moisten the bread with “spit”, then roll it into a ball and then put it on your hook.
What a thrill catching carp and having a good time reeling them in to shore. They always seemed to give you such a good fight. As the story goes I casted my bread ball into the river and ended up reeling in to my amazement a huge catfish. I was so excited that I grabbed the fish with my hands when I got it to shore and directly placed it into a nearby wagon. Without a minutes delay I had this “whopper” in the wagon and was pulling it up and down my neighborhood street showing people. Everyone was excited to see my fish; so much that one of the ladies told me to be on the lookout for the newspaper photographer because they were on their way to take my picture with my trophy catch. This really was a great experience as a kid growing up and it was “topped off” a few days later by my mother cooking it for the kids in the neighborhood to eat. I can only imagine that memories similar to this have occurred in most everyone’s life. I assure you they are there . . . You just may have to find them in an old photo album or newspaper clipping. Memories truly do last a lifetime!