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On Saturdays I got my chance to bike to Chippawa and sit by the river. I anticipated more fishing fun and after begging him, Dad finally drove me up to the Niagara River. We stopped at Black Creek, and I got out of the car and walked to the shore with my gear. I looked around expecting to see him, but there he was sitting inside the car with his book. I never asked or begged him again. Fishing didn’t happen until many years later when Gary asked me to go with him to Port Dalhousie for the salmon run. In the autumn morning, we walked on the long concrete pier throwing our lines out until we felt the hard tugs. I hauled in a few, aiming the smooth writhing bodies towards the bucket.

I hauled in a few, aiming the smooth writhing bodies towards the bucket.

Some activities kept me occupied. A group of us met in a church basement when I was 13. Someone who knew what kids like gave us small wooden plaques, and I had the opportunity to design and paint a logo on the surface of one using original materials. I think that introduction plus my inherited talents sparked my career many years later. Feeling some confidence I was involved in church plays at Easter and Christmas and the Reverend baptized me by immersion when I was 16. All that time I never noticed the pastor’s leg was permanently straight when he walked, and it would swing to the side. I had some uneasiness about him baptizing me thinking if he ever lost his balance, we’d baptize each other at the same time. In any case, Rev Dribble was pleased to be included in our young people’s volleyball, and ping pong tournaments.©

We felt the hard tugs.

Date

July 25, 2016

Author

James Kershaw

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Jim Kershaw says

July 25, 2016

Oh to while away the hours at timeless fishing!

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