When I was a young boy fishing with my dad, we had had a great day. We

had a basketfull of big ole crappie on Clarks Hill....The basket had a small rope tied on the handle and you tossed it over the side into the lake when you stopped so the fish would live until you put them on ice to come home. Well...it was getting late but not all the way so we were gonna ease over to another spot using the 18 horse Johnson motor instead of wasting time paddling. No electric motor back then. Anyway, my dad sped up just a little and then we heard..."Tink".....and about 2 seconds later it hit us....The rope to the basket had snapped and the fish were headed to the bottom of Fishing Creek (if any of you know that spot).....and I, mad and sad, looked at my dad and he said,"Well son, you might as well laugh as cry....".......

I don't know why that memory came back to the forefront tonight....but it did.

Spud

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Great story, Spud. I also went fishing with my dad, but it was a different kind

Feb 1, 2024, 9:23 AM

of fishing altogether. I was a tall kid, tall enough to see over the steering wheel of a truck or car by the time I was ~10 years old. And, from that time, on nearly every Saturday, it seemed, there would be a farm equipment auction somewhere within easy driving distance of our house in Providence Community, SC.

This was around 1964, and a lot of farmers were either dying out, or just getting out of farming. My dad was still farming away, and very rarely bought NEW farm equipment. Since he was a genuine "DIY" guy, he could buy a relic for next to nothing, and resurrect it into a useful piece of machinery for pennies on the dollar. Or if not, he would add it to the growing pile of junk trucks and tractors in our back lot, which amounted to a huge captive spare parts inventory. Farmall tractors of the time were NOTORIOUS for snapping rear axles in half. All we had to do was go back there, jack up a junk one, and unbolt the whole axle housing and do transplant surgery.

Now, it seemed that at nearly every one of these sales, he would buy an old junk farm truck, or tractor, or implement, or just some off the wall something or other. And if it had wheels, and a steering wheel, guess who got to steer these things home behind a tow bar? Yep,, my 10-13 year old self. He would most likely get arrested for that these days, but hey, it was 1964-66!

My favorite cringeworthy story about auction sale acquisitions did NOT include me driving, thank goodness. Dad bought a nice used combine off a sale one time. Only problem was, the sale was in Bishopville, which was a good hour+ drive from home. In a CAR. On a combine, with a road speed of less than 10 mph, it took him almost a whole 8 hour day to drive that thing home. Yes, you heard me, he drove a farm combine home on the road from Bishopville to Providence. The reason it took so long, other than the slow speed, is, he kept having to pull over whenever possible to let angry lines of cars pass him on the back roads he had to take. Ah, the good old days.