To some, Uncle Leon didn’t seem to have sense enough to come in out of the rain, yet he could talk for lengths about the attributes of a one aught (1/0) Eagle Claw or a Norwegian Mustad hook. He would always proudly bring the lines and equipment for our annual fishing expedition. To me, his gear was so new and lovingly crafted, it was a shame to get it wet, muddy, smelling of fish and occasionally broken. Yet, each year he always had a new supply of the finest trot lines available.
August is a horrible time to fish the Brazos because it’s normally very low, the water temperatures are high and the fish are lethargic and slow to bite. Despite having to fish in a less-than-optimal time of year, we always managed to catch a good mess or two of channel cats and occasionally a larger, and even more delightful, yellow cat.
My Uncle Leon made some of the finest trot lines in the country, but his true forté was eating my mom’s fried catfish and greasy fried potatoes.
Larry M. Jones is a retired Navy commander and aviator who raises cattle and hay in the Brock/Lazy Bend part of Parker County. Comments may be directed to firstname.lastname@example.org.