We invited Daily Telegram readers to share stories and photos of the first time they went fishing. Here are the stories you sent.
Sonja Yeutter Colcun, Jerome:
My uncles, Kenneth “Tubby” and Lysle Yeutter, had allowed my 4-year-old sister and 5-year-old self to accompany them in the rowboat during one of their fishing trips at Wamplers Lake during the early ’50s. My uncles not only loved fishing but were very tolerant of small children — to a point. The rules, besides not talking, included no complaining about the hot sun, no wanting to immediately return to the dock for bathroom breaks, no whipping about of the cane poles, no whining about being hungry. We were expected to be able to bait our own hooks with worms, although if a fish swallowed the hook, we were assisted in removing it.
It was all worth it to us. Being allowed to fish meant we were grownups in our own eyes if in no one else’s. I vaguely remember catching a tiny bluegill that was deemed too small to keep and promptly released. It didn’t matter. I was a fisherwoman.
Tracie Seiser, Manitou Beach:
The first time my dad took me fishing, I must have only been about 5. I remember being so excited that my dad thought I was big enough to go fishing with him. We went to Allen Lake and rented a boat. I caught more fish than he did that day, but that was probably because he spent most of his time helping me bait my hook. As soon as I would throw the hook in, there would be a fish on the line. We caught bluegill, crappie and sunfish.
When we got home, of course it was time for my dad to clean the fish. There was one fish in particular that caught my eye and I thought it was the most beautiful fish, shiny with all kinds of colors on it. When it got time for my favorite fish to be cleaned, I begged them to let me keep it and put it in a fish tank. They of course told me no, that it would never survive in a fish tank and I wasn’t keeping it. I was so upset that my dad was going to cut the head off of my fish. Needless to say, all the begging did me no good; my fish got cleaned. I cried and cried, and I never did eat any fish that night.
Christine Whitehead, Adrian:
The first time I went fishing, I was actually 18 and it was with my boyfriend at the time, now husband. I was not too excited about it, as I was a city girl. I didn’t like the thought of a worm, or even a fish anywhere near me.
We went off of a bridge on Academy Road. It was hot as all get out, and I was not being very patient. He kept telling me that if I would just relax I would enjoy myself.
Well, as the moments passed, and I kept seeing the smile on his face — I am thinking it was because he actually talked me into it — but whatever the reason for that smile was, it made me love fishing. We caught a pike that day, and let me tell you it was the coolest thing ever. That was one big mean fighting fish, and to be able to set that hook, and reel him in, well, it was pure satisfaction.
From that day on I have loved fishing, and not only did he take the girl out of the city, he took the city out of the girl. We live in the country, with a 16-foot fishing pond, and I wouldn’t have it any other way! I liked living in the city, but I love living in the country. My husband loves to fish, and we have gone every summer several times. Even in the dead of winter, ice fishing has to be done. It is relaxing being out there on the water. It’s something everyone should do. No matter where it’s being done, fishing is a favorite pastime.
To send us your first-time fishing memories, please e-mail Erik Gable at erik@lenconnect.com. Please be sure to include your name and hometown.
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