Fishing lines bind generations together

• Published November 20, 2008

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PUGET SOUND – Grandfathers taking grandsons — and granddaughters — fishing is a tradition that started well before we humans started keeping track of time a few thousand years ago.

Fathers and uncles and brothers and sisters have also — without thinking — taken the kids fishing for eons.

Yet, it's a tradition that is always fresh and new.

I had the pleasure of fishing with Randy Woodson and his grandson, Joshua Woodson, on a favorite South Sound inlet last weekend, and it was like looking backward down a very long road.

Woodson, who grew up in Virginia and is retired from the U.S. Army, treated his grandson with a tender, gruff manner that rang distant bells in my mind.

At one point during the day, Josh discovered that he'd left his box of lures about 300 yards down the rocky, pebbly beach.

Josh sighed, handed his rod to granddad and slogged back down the beach without a word.

Woodson watched his grandson — without making it obvious that he was watching — during Josh's round-trip.

"Did you learn somethin'?" Woodson asked when Josh returned with his rattling plastic box of Kastmasters and Krocodiles.

Josh smiled, nodded his head and made a cast.

All this reminded me of my great uncle, A.O. Hill of Chickasha, Oklahoma, who also served as a wonderful grandfather.

My grandfather died before my father was born, so "Unk" stepped in and made my father his son. Later, he effortlessly made me and my siblings his grandchildren.

"Unk" always found messages and meaning and poetry in the outdoors.

He also expected me to clean the fish he caught in Lake Texoma, tie on his hooks — his powerful hands were stiff with arthritis — and to wake up when he woke up.

My "Unk" left us almost 20 years ago, but I still think of him every day. I also believe his spirit lives on in my younger brother Casey, who will do anything for me, our siblings and my daughter Courtney.

I taught Casey — who is seven years younger than me — how to catch bass in a little pond about 30 years ago. Those quiet times bonded us. I think of Casey and his family every day. We still fish together, but we also talk about everything together.