Fiddlin for worms with a saw?

Anyone ever heard of this? I dont believe it, heres a story though.

IN OTHER WORDS: Even the catfish were smiling

By SONJA GLEATON, T&D Staff Writer

Vacation memories are meant to endure for a lifetime. After 40 years of
marriage and three fun-loving children, I have many wonderful, unique
vacation memories to share.

When our children, Connie, Michael and Matthew, were very young, we traveled
to Hackleburg, Ala., my mother's hometown. It was an eight-hour journey, and
when we reached Jasper, Mother called out directions along the backroads to
where Aunt Inez lived.

Upon our arrival, Aunt Inez served a vegetarian meal of green beans, stewed
squash, creamed corn, cole slaw, potato salad and butter rolls, Over the
next four days, we would take flowers to the family cemetery, visit
great-aunt Verdie, Aunt Ethel, Uncle Clovis and Aunt Willie and go fishing.
We would travel across a one-lane bridge, collect colorful rocks from a
popular mountainside and go swimming in Bear Creek.

Time passed quickly, and the day of our fishing trip arrived. Everybody was
excited as we loaded fishing poles and a bait bucket into the trunk of the
car. As we started to leave, Aunt Inez suddenly announced that she had to
get her hand saw. As she dashed around the house to the barn, the kids said
in unison, "A hand saw?"


Aunt Inez was a woman of great humor, so we didn't ask any questions and
played along. We parked the car at the edge of a dark swamp. Mom carried the
bait bucket, and Aunt Inez hurried into the woods with her hand saw. The
kids whispered and giggled as we stepped over tree stumps and broken
branches, and because Aunt Inez was chuckling to herself, I suspected one of
her crafty jokes was unfolding.

Aunt Inez said, "We are now going to fiddle for worms. Spread out and be
quiet and stand very still until I say move." Then she took hold of a young
tree and bent it over.

With my husband holding the top of the tree near ground level, the boys
giggled. Aunt Inez "tuned" her saw, and I began to question everybody's
sanity.

"Let the music begin," Aunt Inez said, as she grated the hand saw across the
trunk of the bent tree. "Grate, grate, grate" went the saw in the
semi-darkened woods. The song played too long for my nerves, but we all
stood still with most eyes focused on the woman fiddling' the bark off a
helpless sapling.

A wild scream interrupted the rhythm of the music. A desperate wailing
echoed throughout the forest. Michael quickly clasped a sweaty hand over my
big mouth and said, "It's okay Mom. They won't hurt ya. Be quiet or they'll
all crawl away."

Aunt Inez started to laugh into her apron. All around the woods were
monstrous worms that the fiddlin' had serenaded from deep within the earth.
The ugly things stretched out to about two feet long when the children held
them up and slung them into the bucket.

When we returned to our car, I climbed down off my husband's back, while a
smiling Aunt Inez tossed the hand saw and bait bucket into the trunk. As the
kids argued over who found the biggest worm, we headed to Uncle Clovis'
fishing pond.

The kids baited their hooks with pieces of the giant worms. Still pouting, I
fished with crickets on the opposite side of the pond. A few hours later,
nobody had a single bite. Uncle Clovis consoled us, but I noticed he was
chuckling under his breath. Sometime later, he threw a bucket of feed into
the water, and thousands of big catfish surfaced.

On this family vacation, we learned that worms don't like "fiddlin' music"
and that Uncle Clovis' catfish wouldn't bite a hook no matter how big the
worms were.

I don't know who got the last laugh that fishing day, but I'm almost certain
those catfish were smiling, too.



a.. T&D Staff Writer Sonja Gleaton can be reached by e-mail at
and by telephone at 533-5523.


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