Old Tackle Box Tells A Story

About ten years ago, while still living in Illinois, I received a wonderful gift.  I have an Uncle, my mother’s brother, who has always lived in the city of Chicago. Uncle Bob, who is now in his upper eighties, decided that he was going to retire his fishing pole.  During his younger years he didn’t develop an interest in golf and he wasn’t into spectator sports but he loved to fish and hunt.  I suppose that he began fishing as a child and as with many of us who enjoy the pastime, it stayed with him all of his life. Like most kids who were raised during the lean times of the Depression, Uncle Bob started working at an early age.  One of his first jobs was a pin boy in a bowling alley during the winter months. For those not old enough to remember, a pin boy was the person who set the bowling pins back up after a bowler rolled his ball down the alley. It was hard, backbreaking work and he only made fifty cents a day, but he was grateful to get it at the time. During summer vacations in his high school years, he ventured off to northern Wisconsin to help other family members build a rustic log cabin on a remote lake near Lac Du Flambeau. Electricity wasn’t available in that area and all of the carpentry was done with hand tools, muscle and hard work.  It was there that he honed his skills fishing for pike, walleye and the elusive muskie.  They fished not only for the sport but to put food on the table.  Needless to say they ate a lot of fish.  Those happy, carefree summers in northern Wisconsin ended with the onset of WW II and Uncle Bob went off on a government paid tour of Europe. He landed in France and ended up walking all the way to Germany, with a few side trips including Austria and Poland.  When the war ended, he looked forward to returning to the north woods.  Few of his friends or family knew what he went through, and many years passed before he was willing to share some of his wartime experiences with us. It wasn’t until the 1950’s that I was old enough to join my Dad and Uncle Bob on their fishing trips up north.  I was just a kid but I felt like one of the men on those bear-filled tenting adventures.  It was on those expeditions that I learned how to fish with a baitcasting rod rather than a cane pole.  Both my Dad and Uncle Bob had impressive tackle boxes that they always kept organized and well stocked with the latest lures and supplies. I was thankful that they generously shared their equipment with me, as I didn’t have my own tackle box yet. The wonderful gift that I mentioned in the beginning of this story was Uncle Bob’s tackle box. Since he no longer fished, he wanted to pass it on to me.  I never expected to receive it; which made the gift even more special.  I can remember opening it for the first time.  It was like going through a fishing tackle museum! In it there were famous lures made by Heddon, South Bend, Creek Chub and Daredevil plus reels by Shakespeare and Pflueger. The cork-lined tray compartments contained hooks, lead sinkers, brass swivels, several bobbers and numerous odds and ends.  His favorite pocketknife and compass were there along with a stringer, fish scaler, and of course a bottle of 6-12 Insect Repellent. Uncle Bob had everything one would need in his tackle box along with his old fishing licenses from the trips we took together.  Poking around in that old box brought back many a memory for me and I felt honored to have been chosen to receive it.  I don’t actually use the equipment that is in that box.  Most of it would be difficult to replace if lost in our lake. Instead, I keep it with the rest of my gear in a nice dry place. Sometimes on a cold and wet winter day, when I am longing to be out on the lake fishing, I open up that old tackle box. Looking at the treasures contained therein bring back many memories of good times, days gone by, and the outdoor adventures we shared together.

 

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