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Willie Rip

Father's Day Fishing Stories

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I remember the day my uncle sat down with me and he went through his tackle box. He told me the purpose of every float, hook design, and what every lure imitated and how to fish it. Never got go fishing with him because passed a short time after from cancer. Still cherish that memory.


Dad didn't hunt or fish. But was at every ball game or any other activity we kids were in. He would even leave work to watch us.


He was an assistant scoutmaster and cubmaster for us 2 boys. He did what ever he could for my sister when she got heavy into cooking. Remember the old Easy Bake ovens? Damn could she make that thing talk.


Mom and Dad had a RV parked as a permanent at one of the local campgrounds. They have a good sized lake. That is where I got "hooked" on fishing. Our rods lived under the trailer. All we had to do is bait up. Quit often it was going out in the hay field and catching grasshoppers.


For several years it was my father-in-law, step-son and my self spending all day on a Saturday if I wasn't working fishing for carp and catfish.


Miss those Saturdays and weekends at the campground.


Alsmost forgot, loved the video Willie.

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Great video Willie, thanks.


My situation with fishing is different. Though I never knew it until he told me in my 20's or 30's, my dad hated fishing, doesn't like he water, hated boats, but took me anyway because I loved it and could never get enough. (My own kids don't like fishing either, though my daughter might yet, no telling). Sometimes (not always) being a great dad doesn't mean what you pass down but instead what you see in your children as true and support because it's in them, despite it not making any sense to you personally.


Anyway, one of the many times my dad took me fishing we went on a half-day boat out of Santa Monica. The water was rocky, and I went looking for my dad, only to find him throwing up pretty violently over the bow. Being a kid, I said, "Hey look, a fish is eating it," which made him throw up some more. He doesn't like that story, but I do. He really sacrificed a lot...


Most of our other fishing trips were to Lake Sherwood. We'd fish for hours never catching much. One day my dad asked a "real" fisherman some advice, and he told us to wait until noon because at the hatchery where these fish came from that was feeding time. My dad still likes to tell that story. He'll be 84 in August.

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