It started on the water.

Some people would have probably called me cheap, but others that knew me understood. There was something about being outside and on the water that caused me to have some of my most cherished dates with my wife Elizabeth Swicegood; what were we doing? Fishing, yes fishing.

Back in 1984, I had seen a number of afternoons on the water. There wasn't a fishing pond within 5 miles of my parent's house that I had not paid a visit to. So, when I took my first visit to Elizabeth Sharp's house, I had only heard there was a pretty girl from Texas that had moved in. No one said anything about two fishing ponds. So, I possibly could have been accused to picking Elizabeth as my girlfriend because her dad had a 100-acre farm with two fishing ponds.  One open and the other with great cover. The two tranquil bodies of water were special. Un-fished for many years before they moved from the prairies of north Texas, these two ponds were target central for me as a 17-year-old. Ok, don't get excited, the bulls eye was the brunette for sure.  Not knowing if my new potential girlfriend would enjoy fishing, much less take a bass or bream off the hook, I asked her what her thoughts were about making a date night a fishing experience. Using words like "experience" conjured up something a little more special than "lets go fishing". I had multiple rods/reels and plenty of fishing lures. Happily, she said yes, and there began our incredible experiences on the water. So many things happened on the banks of the ponds an in the aluminum seats of our John boat. First, I learned that I was attempting to date a very competitive person. She wasn’t just concerned with the quantity of fish caught, but who got the biggest. Second, in those quiet moments of nothing but the sound of a lure hitting the water and the mockingbird repeating its repertoire, we would talk, share and learn so much about each other. There were no distractions like TV, movies or other things to interrupt the senses. In that era, no Facebook, Instagram or other digital distractions.  I remember fighting the North Carolina mosquitoes on breeze less afternoons, but suffering a bite or two because we continued to reel in fish. We would end our angling focused dates just minutes after the sun was welcomed by the horizon. The only expense I can remember was the $1.20 per gallon gasoline that was required to drive from Jericho Road to Pete Foster Road, maybe 5 miles. 

Did I fall in love with her while fishing? I don’t know, but I’d say it help create a line between us that could not be challenged. It was strong. 

On the day of our wedding, I woke up early and while she was getting ready for our big day, guess what I did? Yep, I went fishing. Quietly I reflected on the many times we fished and hopefully the new life we would share together on future trips.

My love for catching fish came from my Grandfather, Roman Gobble. As a child, he would take me to High Rock Lake in Salisbury, NC and he would demonstrate the required patience caused by a tangled line or a lure that needed adjusting.  With his help, I reeled in my first fish. Like the fish, I was hooked. I look back with fond memories on the fish I caught, the sunburn I endured, and the lessons I learned in his little Bomber bass boat with its 90 Hp  Mercury.

Lewis Swicegood with a rainbow catch near Helena, MT

Now we have grown kids and the contagion has spread to my family. Like the feeling of having a fish on the end of your line that Elizabeth & I felt in 1984, my kids and son-in-law felt the presence of God on the water this past week; they enjoyed the glory of the moment and they bonded their relationships even stronger with the simplicity of a rod and reel. We fished this week in Montana. The area is called “Land of the Giants”. It's name relates to the size of rainbow trout that are caught on this section of the Missouri River. Ashton (my daughter) and her husband Ben, shared the boat with Lewis (my son). If only there’d been room for one more, I would have enjoyed hearing their conversation. They were in the boat from 7:45 AM -5:45 PM. Each landed fish; multiple big fish. Being a fly-fishing trip meant that they were able to learn the art of the cast. The faith required to cast the fly line over the head, pausing for one moment to delicately deliver the fly into the water. Ashton & Ben quickly learned the rhythm and count of casting a fly; Lewis had the contagion a few years ago and picked up the rhythm again rather quickly. My mother and father were in another boat making their day of memories. They too brought a number of 18-22 inch trout into the boat. Elizabeth and I boated to  a different section of the river. Quietly as I watched Elizabeth gracefully cast her line, my mind….my heart was brought back to those sunny afternoons in our small hometown

Ben & Ashton Burton experiencing their first day of Flyfishing

where we shared together fishing. Indescribable, my heart was filled with contentment. This sport, this hobby, this outdoor activity that brought Elizabeth and I together in so many ways, continued in our middle ages. But now, we had brought along our children and our son-in-law.

As I look back 33 years ago, I can’t think of any other way I would have wanted to go out with my girlfriend. The catches we caught on the banks and in the boat were such small catches compared to my ultimate catch…..Elizabeth Sharp Swicegood.

As to fishing.... All good things don't come to an end.. they are stored in my memory to revisit! I'll go there and relive those moments and yes, I will smile.

Go fishing, I think you’ll be enriched.

33 years later, we still in enjoy the catch.