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Posted

I came across this article and had to share it with everyone, enjoy.....

Editor's note: Herald contributing columnist Roy Mitchell wrote this tribute for his dad, Stephen Morris Mitchell, who died recently.

By Roy Mitchell Special to the Herald

Date: Dec. 30, 2006 Lake: Weiss Water temp.: 51 Number of bass caught: 8 Time out: Tournament day Conditions: warm, but cloudy with a slight breeze

To honor my father, who passed away two weeks ago, I used only dad's lures in the tournament. I even wore his old fishing hat and replaced my tackle bag with his circa 1960's black tackle box. I mostly used a Norman Little N crankbait he liked. The tiny crank, though, hadn't fared well up until about 10 a.m. Only one shrimp-like bass dared leave a point going toward the Chattooga to take a ride on the Little N. At one point in the morning near Cedar Bluff the crank hung itself on a rock. I flicked the line to find the bait not only free, but with a tug at the other end. The enthusiastic pull ceased before I could even lean into the fish. At the smaller Cedar Bluff Bridge near the old roadbed while casting parallel to the bank, the little green crank turned sideways after caroming off some brush. A 4.49 pounder plucked it off the top of the water with a massive swirl and relentlessly peeled out drag, every run as powerful as a preacher pounding the pulpit, praising the Lord. Finally, the monstrous largemouth accepted his new livewell dwelling. After a dinky bass boldly left his point near the Weiss Mart only to be returned to its watery home, my father's lures and I wandered over to the rock bank I had caught a 3½-pounder off yesterday. Amidst my cranking, a 3 pounder mauled Dad's little, green crankbait. Having 7 plus pounds secure in the livewell, I knew another fish would probably give me a top three finish, using only dad's lures. My brain and body strained more intensely for the next several hours, honoring my father if I could somehow earn a check wearing his hat, using his tackle box, casting his lures. Unforgettable thoughts of dad and his death at daybreak on a Saturday morning, Dec. 16, permeated me. I can't count how many times he and I together fished at daybreak on a Saturday morning. The morning he died a fog flooded the county. None of the fishermen that morning could have hoped to blast off at that hour with an unseen dawn. At the moment of his death, all boats on the lake were stopped, as if allowing him to make his journey first, before any fishing would be done that day. By 2 p.m. I desperately hoped for any bite, any size bass to help my chances of coming in the top three with only my father's lures, almost within sight of where he caught his final fish in August, and within sight of the dock at the Weiss Mart where he had parted a boat for the last time in his life, from this very boat in which I stood. Here I hoped for one last fish, one last fish with dad's lures. I distinctly remember the day this chartruese Little N outcaught me the May before last in Mud Creek. I had been aggressively hurling a spinnerbait from the boat's front while he casually sat in the back seat and toasted me nearly two to one with this little green crankbait. Now, I cast this little green crankbait, returning to the bank where I'd caught the 18-inch fish today and the 19-inch bass yesterday. I had reeled three or four turns of the handle when a heaviness absorbed my connection to the bait. With the headshake reverberating through my line, I knew it was a fish and a big one. He played me without showing himself. It could've been a striper or a catfish. He dove under the boat and then out again, peeling out drag. As my pressure eased him back toward the boat, I saw that it was a largemouth bass weighing around 4 pounds, large enough to maybe win the tournament, using only my father's lures. As I netted him and brought him into the boat, I cried. I cried, sitting in the boat from where my father last fished, knowing I had honored him. The three fish totalled 11.42 pounds, enough to win the tournament. Thank you, dad. I miss you.

Posted

What a great story! I am sure his father was there with him that day...

I have a similar story. When I was a kid my dad lived on lake oconee here in GA. Although we fished the lake regularly together, we usually didn't go too far from his cove. I was young at the time and I really didn't know the lake that well. We did manage to catch alot of fish together! I spent every summer at his place growing up. My dad passed away when I was 11 years old. He was my best friend and best fishing partner ever!

Last year I bought a bass boat so I could fish some bigger lakes. Lake Oconee is not to far from where I live now so I started fishing there occasionally. I bought a lake map and started to learn the water a little. One day me and a buddy went fishing together. My friend doesn't fish. He was just along for the ride and enjoying relaxing on the boat. After not catching anything for a couple of hours, I decided to try and find my dad's old house. It was about an 8 mile ride, and I found it pretty easily. I checked the place out and took a few pics and told my buddy a few old stories about my dad and when I used to stay there all the time.

I was about to crank up the motor and head back to the ramp when my friend suggested that I should fish there. He thought I might catch a few with my dad's help...

Sure enough, on the first cast against his dock I had a hit! It was a solid 4lb fish! I caught 8 fish in about 12 casts off of dad's old dock! I couldn't beleive it!

That was the start of my best day yet on oconee! As I fished around the cove, I managed to boat around 18 fish in less than an hour! I even caught one about 6 lbs!Also, the next 3 or 4 times I fished oconee, I did really well in this area...

Maybe just luck, but I'd like to think that my dad was there with me that day. I could almost imagine him in the boat with me ripping a hookset on one of those fat bass!

Here are some pics I took of the old lake house...

post-5377-130162976973_thumb.jpg

Posted

Precious moment dude.  I'm sure you will cherish that day forever.

It's why I started My "legacy collection" of hard baits.

These are quality lures intended to be passed down through the generations.  My fondest wish is that 30 or 40 years years from now one of my grandchildren will be teaching his son or daughter to fish, and take out one of these lures.  "This used to belong to MY grandpa wanna fish it?

I'm gettin all puddly just thinking about it.   :'(

Posted

I wish I had some of my dad's old tackle. I'm not sure if I would fish with it or not, but it would be nice to have just for the memories...

Are you making these lures yourself? Have any pics?

Posted

I too, have many cherished memories of fishing with my dad.  Let's make sure our sons can say the same of us.  

Posted
I too, have many cherished memories of fishing with my dad. Let's make sure our sons can say the same of us.

oops :-[... should have read "Let's make sure our sons and daughters can say the same of us" Sorry for the oversight, ladies.

Posted

Your dad may have physically passed on but he is surely alive here on this board.  I know I'll carry this little piece of him with me for a long time, your story has stirred some emotions.

Next foggy morning, when I'm waiting to launch, I will also say a special prayer for you and your dad.

Thanks for sharing.

Posted

Great story, I can only imagine the emotions you were going through with every catch.  Im blessed to still have my father around, but I have lost him to the game of GOLF!  We use to rest a cottage every summer and fish together all week, it was fun a lot of friendly trash talking.  He changed jobs a few times and we missed a couple of summers here and there, until they rented on a local lake(2002).  I met him out there one night after work, fished a stretch of docks and in about 2 hrs we boated about 20+ fish, just like old times.  No matter how much I read, keep up on the hottest tackle, study maps, ect.... My dad always seems to stumble across the biggest  fish of the week.  Like the 15lb Walleye he caught on a whitespinner bait fishing for bass and pike.....  

  • Super User
Posted

Thank you for sharing your stories. While I do not speak to my birth father, I have wonderful memories of my step father who stepped right in to be the best male role model I have had. He doesnt fish, hunt or play sports but was always the first one to encourage me to do those things. He didnt know a thing about football, yet he came to EVERY game...high school and college. This story reminded me how important he still is in my life....glad he is still around.

Posted
I too, have many cherished memories of fishing with my dad. Let's make sure our sons can say the same of us.

I have a 6 week old son, my first child and I can't wait to get him out there with me!  I really look forward to spending that time with him on the water, creating special memories. His bedroom decor is all fishing so lets hope he enjoys it.  

Posted

Thanks everyone! I will be returning to fish that spot this spring. I am hoping that my dad will "hook me up" again!

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