TR Bluegill to soothe the soul

Ken Fortenberry wrote:

I've been away from home goin' on two weeks so there's plenty
of things I should have done yesterday afternoon instead of
rigging up a fly rod and walking the hound over to the pond.
Like raking leaves for instance, gawd the yard's a mess.



Nah, you did the right thing.


Very sorry for you loss, Ken.

Russell

"Ken Fortenberry" wrote in message
.com...
I stood by the bed at 4:08 Tuesday morning and watched my dad
take his last tortured breath and then spent Tuesday and Wednesday
doing the modern death dance with funeral directors, bankers,
insurance droids and other Alabama riffraff. Had a wake and a brief
Protestant service in Alabama Wednesday evening, flew back to
Chambana Thursday morning before I have to repeat the whole process
tonight and tomorrow in Illinois Catholic. That's the way dad wanted
it and I'm sure he's glad that I got to wet a line on the travel day.

--
Ken Fortenberry


Sorry to hear of your personal loss Ken.... I am sure your Dad was grateful
to have you by his side
in his time of passing...

Looking forward to another Bluegill TR when you return home.

Jeff T.

Tim J. wrote:

"Ken Fortenberry" wrote...

http://tinyurl.com/vz9c

There must be a helluva story about you and your brother's nicknames, eh?

That obit was written in Alabama where Ken and Don translates
to Kenny and Donnie. Kristine & Janeen are our wives.

--
Ken(ny) Fortenberry

"Ken Fortenberry" wrote in message
.com...
I've been away from home goin' on two weeks so there's plenty
of things I should have done yesterday afternoon instead of
rigging up a fly rod and walking the hound over to the pond.
Like raking leaves for instance, gawd the yard's a mess.

(snip)


Ken Fortenberry

My condolences to you and your family.

Danl

"Ken Fortenberry" wrote in message
.com...
Tim J. wrote:

"Ken Fortenberry" wrote...

http://tinyurl.com/vz9c

There must be a helluva story about you and your brother's nicknames, eh?

That obit was written in Alabama where Ken and Don translates
to Kenny and Donnie. Kristine & Janeen are our wives.

I figured out the Kenny and Donnie part, but was too lame to figure the wives
part. I honestly thought they might have been nicknames given by Dad. You know,
like a "C'mon, girls, run faster!" kind of thing. AFAICR, I've never seen an
obit worded that way, but then again, I avoid reading them whenever I can.
--
TL,
Tim
------------------------
http://css.sbcma.com/timj

"Ken Fortenberry" wrote in message
.com...
That's the way dad wanted
it and I'm sure he's glad that I got to wet a line on the travel day.

My sympathies on your loss. And thanks for a fine celebration of life to
soften the sadness of death. I didn't know your dad, but I'm sure he'd be
proud.

Joe F.

Sorry to hear of your loss, Ken. God rest your father.

An excellent post. I am sorry about your father, and condolences on your
loss.

Tim Lysyk
timlysyk at telus dot net

"Ken Fortenberry" wrote in message
.com...
I've been away from home goin' on two weeks so there's plenty
of things I should have done yesterday afternoon instead of
rigging up a fly rod and walking the hound over to the pond.
Like raking leaves for instance, gawd the yard's a mess.

But as soon as I'd hauled in the suitcases and cracked open a
beer I grabbed a fly rod and a leash and meandered on over to
the pond. Let the hound off leash to sniff his way around and
started tossing a little caddis into a stiff breeze. It wasn't
long before I tired of taking the little bluegill off the hook
and started casting to the unlikely spots so I wouldn't catch
a fish.

The physical act of casting a fine fly rod creates a rythym
in the body that can help the mind transcend consciousness for
a brief while and in that transcendence comes a comfort and a
soothing of the soul. That's my theory, anyway, and I was
casting a fine instrument indeed. I was using a little 6'6" 3wt
built of Tonkin cane on a Cattanach taper by Steve Zimmerman.
As fine a fly rod as the man who built it and for no good reason
gave it to me.

I'd always saved it for trout, wild, native trout, because I
thought bluegill fishing too vulgar for such a fine tool. But
yesterday I changed my mind. I needed to fish, my heart and soul
demanded it and there was only one fly rod that fit the occasion.

I stood by the bed at 4:08 Tuesday morning and watched my dad
take his last tortured breath and then spent Tuesday and Wednesday
doing the modern death dance with funeral directors, bankers,
insurance droids and other Alabama riffraff. Had a wake and a brief
Protestant service in Alabama Wednesday evening, flew back to
Chambana Thursday morning before I have to repeat the whole process
tonight and tomorrow in Illinois Catholic. That's the way dad wanted
it and I'm sure he's glad that I got to wet a line on the travel day.

--
Ken Fortenberry

My condolences as well, Ken. It was good you got the chance for the brief
fishing trip. I'm sure your dad would approve.


George Adams

"All good fishermen stay young until they die, for fishing is the only dream of
youth that doth not grow stale with age."
---- J.W Muller

Your world has changed for the worse. I'm sorry.
--
Stev Lenon 91B20 '68-'69
Drowning flies to Darkstar

http://web.tampabay.rr.com/stevglo/i...age92kword.htm