Honoring time spent with dad, granddad

Pete Smith and Allison Yearwood always shared a common love of fishing.

The two ponds Allison built on his Greene County farm were stocked with bluegills, bucketmouths and catfish and became a place for him and his son-in-law to bond. When a grandson came along, the ponds became a teaching ground - a place to pass on their love of the outdoors and continue the family tradition.

That's been nearly 30 years ago.

Today, Allison has only one leg - the result of the diabetes eating away at him - and too often can't remember the details of his life, such as the names of family members.

Pete has raised two children, retired from one job to take another and still has his love for fishing.

And the grandson has found a career in newspapers.

Along the way, our lives got in the way and the Zebco 33's we shared have dusted in storage. But the memories woven with monofilament line, Rapala "broken-back" lures and "pumpkin-seed" plastic lizards are still there.

The thing I remember most was their vastly different styles. My dad preferred small hooks for bream, topwater plugs for bass and chicken liver for bream. "Boww" - as I still call my granddad - liked large hooks, plastic worms and Catawba worms - a black-and-yellow caterpillar prevalent on some of the trees around his farm.

We'd fish for hours, moving from the catfish pond to the bass pond and back - filling 5-gallon buckets of fish. In the evening we'd clean them and fry them in the yard of the house my mother grew up in.

One of my favorite photographs is from that time - all three of us shirtless, sitting on a backyard bench, a catfish in my father's hand and his face contorted to match the fish's whiskered frown. It sits now on my dresser at home.

In all the time I spent with my father or my grandfather on the banks of those two ponds in Union Point, I'm pretty sure I never told either of them "Thanks." Thanks for taking the time to teach me about something you both loved. It has a made a difference in my life that I can't explain, but I'm sure you both understand.

Maybe, I'll understand it too one day, when I'm standing there beside a pond, passing along my love for fishing to my children.

Happy Father's Day, Doc and Boww. I hope I've made you both proud.