Big John

February 19, 2010
I shudder at the thought.
Zach is fast coming of age and ready to go exploring the world on his own or at least with his friends. I look back a few years to the days of John and me and the exploring we did before caught in the web of life. Days long before cellular phones or even CB radios. Days before GPS and locator beacons.
See John was what I call an honor student, oh yeah straight “A’s” with that 4.0 average. I on the other hand had a -4.0 average. It wasn’t that bad, I think it was like 1.5. That and the daily PA call to make sure that I was even at school from Nick.
To make matters worse, John was respectable, like team captain or something of some sport played with a pig skin. On top of that is dad was a doctor and our principal. I couldn’t at the time understand why a doctor was working as a principal.
Big John, John’s dad, had to be one tough cookie, with a lot of trust to allow little John to hang with the guy that hit the social studies teacher on the bridge of his nose, just above his glasses with a snow ball during class.
To this day I have the upmost respect for Big John; I am only hoping that I can pass along that trust to Zach.
The trust in little John to make the right decision was deep, coming from years of training and instruction. Big John somehow knew that he would need it down the road.
I recall a Friday night in January, at the start of ice fishing season. It was snowing and the temperature was downright cold, like near zero.
I called little John to suggest we get a head start on the others and head to Duck Lake in the middle of the night, sleep in the Blazer and be on the ice at first light. John was all for it, so I packed and headed to his house for the pickup.
Remember we were still in high school, I just had gotten my license, and the road to Duck was not plowed during the winter, even though this was the first real snow, our life experiences were minimal to say the least. In fact back in those days, the drinking age was eighteen, but we won’t talk about that.
I never gave a thought to any dangers of our adventure, none whatsoever. We had a truck, some food, our friendship, fish traps and hand auger. We could survive anything Mother Nature could dish out.
I recall John’s brothers begging to go and Big John telling them not this time. I think he was trying to insure the some of the blood line remained behind. I know now that Big John was shuttering at the thought of us striking out for what was days without contact, days without knowing if we were alright and healthy. This is called stress.
The trip was a success and we caught many fish. What a time gone by.
But looking back I now find myself in Big John’s shoes, wow, what big shoes. Zach is asking to go on such a trip with his friends. What is my answer going to be? Big John is thinking, good some pay back for all this grey hair.
Big John as I am writing my third book, my thoughts are of you and Rita with each page and I wish to say many many “thanks” for your impact is more than you shall know. And by the way it looks like we all turned out ok, expect for that one that sneaks around looking for that one short fish in the creel or trap without a tag. No just kidding, it is reported to me by many that Jim is one of the finest wardens we have in the state and balances out for the one without any common sense. As you may noticed my grammar has not improved one bit!
With much admiration
Lorin