Food Matters

Food Matters Photo Essay .................... by Tom Rankin I was in second grade in Kentucky when my friend Bobby invited me to spend Friday night with him and go fish a farm pond the next morning. His father, a long haul truck driver, was off work for the weekend and drove us some thirty miles out of town where we baited simple bream hooks with red worms and carefully watched our white and red bobbers, in youthful hope of success. I have no recollection of how long we fished, how long we anticipated fish action, how big or small the pond was. My only clear memory is that I caught a channel catfish from a place midway on the pond dam. And then at some other time in the morning, Bobby caught a hand-sized bluegill. This was my not my first fish, but it was my first catfish. I had never had someone carefully explain to me--as Bobby's father did that morning--how to remove a catfish from a hook without getting stuck by the spines on the side of the fish. Just as he was helping me remove the fish from the hook and thread it onto the stringer, Bobby http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Southern Cultures University of North Carolina Press

Food Matters

Southern Cultures, Volume 21 (1) – Mar 29, 2015

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Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Center for the Study of the American South.
ISSN
1534-1488
Publisher site
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Abstract

Photo Essay .................... by Tom Rankin I was in second grade in Kentucky when my friend Bobby invited me to spend Friday night with him and go fish a farm pond the next morning. His father, a long haul truck driver, was off work for the weekend and drove us some thirty miles out of town where we baited simple bream hooks with red worms and carefully watched our white and red bobbers, in youthful hope of success. I have no recollection of how long we fished, how long we anticipated fish action, how big or small the pond was. My only clear memory is that I caught a channel catfish from a place midway on the pond dam. And then at some other time in the morning, Bobby caught a hand-sized bluegill. This was my not my first fish, but it was my first catfish. I had never had someone carefully explain to me--as Bobby's father did that morning--how to remove a catfish from a hook without getting stuck by the spines on the side of the fish. Just as he was helping me remove the fish from the hook and thread it onto the stringer, Bobby

Journal

Southern CulturesUniversity of North Carolina Press

Published: Mar 29, 2015

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