When I was growing up in the 1950s, my dad and I used to go fishing on Lake Ontario. He would sit on the front porch of our home with his rod and reel and I would stand behind him as he cast his line into the water. As soon as the line was taut, I would hold it up for him to see what was biting. We caught fish every time we went out, but it was not until one day when I was about nine years old that we caught a monster fish.
My dad was fishing at the north end of the lake and he had hooked a big one. It was a large pike and he was pulling on the line to bring it to the boat. He had to let it go and he was going to try to land it from the boat. However, the fish was too heavy and the line broke and the fish fell back into the lake. My dad didn’t want to lose his prize so he got his net and tried to catch it again. This time he was successful and we brought the fish into the boat. The next day we took the fish to the local taxidermist and he mounted it on the wall.
The fish was very beautiful. It had a long silver body with a big head and a mouth full of sharp teeth. It was as big as my dad’s forearm. In those days, they were called “pikes” because they were the size of pikes. The taxidermist told us that this fish could be as much as 30 pounds and he said that it was a good thing we had caught it because there were only a few of them left in the lake.
My dad took the fish to school to show it off. He told everyone how lucky we were to have caught such a huge fish. I was proud of my dad because he always wanted to teach me things and he did not want me to grow up to be ignorant. He taught me about nature and how God created everything.
I remember sitting on the front porch with my dad and watching him cast his line into the water and waiting for the fish to bite. I also remember how excited I was when I saw him bring the fish into the boat. It was a wonderful experience.
