Way back in forty nine, 1949 that is, the day promised to be one of those picture-perfect May days. It was early in the morning when dad brought in this fifty four pound flathead. He had been catching one or two big catfish a day in his nets on Red River. This one brought special pride to dad. We saw him coming down the lane,
he had rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, something he rarely did and a hundred dollar grin spread itself from ear to ear.
Mother ran in the house to get the Kodak Brownie. Delton and I ran to meet dad.
I wish I had a nickel for every time mom said, "I wish you boys had changed into your Sunday clothes for that picture." I was all dressed for school: Flour sack shirt, "tennie shoes," torn britches and all.
There would be no selling of this fish ... we ate dad's prize. The only thing left is this picture and my memories.
That big flathead remained the biggest fish dad ever caught, as long as he lived. Dad gave up catching big flathead catfish when laws passed that made netting illegal, but he never gave up fishing.
