When I graduated from high school in 1950, Dad (Ezra) took me (as a graduation present, he said) along with the rest of the family on a fishing trip to MN. (I wonder why the got to go along – after all, they weren’t the ones who graduated that year.) Dad always loved MN and my middle name comes from Morris, MN. Anyway, one morning Dad, Mom and I went fishing. (Fred, Jim and the girls were doing something more sensible like reading comics or sleeping in.) At the dock Dad and I got in the boat first. Then Mom stepped in. The dock was a little high and when Mom’s weight was shifted abruptly into the boat it upended. There we were, standing in the lake up to our chins. It was a good thing that the water was only 5 foot deep ‘cause as I remember, Mom couldn’t swim. I was about to say, “Gee whiz, Mom…” when Dad said “Dick, look what you did! Can’t you be more careful?” (Actually I thought it was great fun, but somehow Dad failed to see the humor of it all.) I don’t think we caught any fish that day. (Fred was still sleeping in when we got back to the cabin.)
By Richard Hohulin