It’s Just Fishing

Through my years of fishing I’ve learned that over time there seems to be performance-based ranking of sorts when fishermen evaluate other fishermen and themselves: How many did you guys catch today?Did ya’ll get ‘em?Man, that guy is always on ‘em!If that guy tells his buddies where I’m catching my fish, then we’re gonna have big time problems! These are just a few comments and questions fishermen hear almost daily.

I know guys that rank fishing and fishing success above many more important things in life. We are all very passionate about fishing, but we occasionally tend to place it higher on the list than it deserves. Hell, I’ve even had friendships strained over fishing. I look back through the years and realize that I should never have allowed things like that to happen. We tend to mellow a bit and realign our priorities as we get older. That’s not to suggest that I don’t take my profession seriously. I most certainly do but there are more things involving God and my family that remind me at the end of the day that it’s just fishing. Every once in a while we still need to be reminded of that.

The wind was cranking at 20 mph out of the southwest. There were three corporate tournaments that morning and everyone was seeking protection along leeward shorelines, whether they knew fish were there or not. I was not pleased that my clients wanted to fish in this mess, but Jon told me that it was their one shot since I had no other openings for months. I understood but I still didn’t like it.I’m not in the business to steal money from people.

Despite the tough conditions, we tried to make the best of it. “There’s been a few good trout over here but the tide really isn’t right just yet. Let’s just grind in this area until these fish get going a little,” I said. They obliged but it was really nothing more than casting practice with zero bites. I grew more and more frustrated with each cast knowing full well that these trout were not ready to cooperate and wouldn’t be willing to for a long while. Having 20-plus other boats stacked like cordwood against the same shoreline added to my frustration.

I’m used to getting a call or two from a handful of other guides to compare notes and see how we’re doing. Most do not ask where we are fishing but rather what we’re catching. It kind of lets us know if the bite is on or if we’re in the wrong area. There are certain people who seldom call me while I’m fishing because they know that I’m working. One is my wife and another is my good friend Jake White.Therefore, if either of them calls I usually answer because I know it’s important.

I was getting frustrated with the bite in less than desirable conditions. I told Jon and Richard to reel in their lines; it was time to make a move. Jon asked where we were headed and I told him I didn’t know but I was damn tired of looking at the same stretch of shoreline, drift after drift.

I knew the fish were there but I can only wait on them to cooperate for so long.As I turned the key my phone rang. It was my buddy Jake. I answered and he asked, “Is Brooke okay?” I asked what he meant and he told me there had been a mass shooting at Santa Fe High School where my daughter attends. My entire body went numb and my heart sank as I immediately hung up and called my wife.Those 20 or 30 seconds of uncertainty will stick with me for the rest of my life.My wife answered and instantly said, “Brooke is safe.” “Thank you, Jesus” I said.“How about Paige,” I asked. Paige is my niece who is like a daughter to me. She told me that Paige was safe but had been next to the art room in which the shooter entered. She witnessed things no child should ever see, much less any adult.

Despite the horrible conditions and the tough bite, the world stood still and the fish became irrelevant. I stood in the back of my boat staring across a wide-open bay in shock of what had just happened. Over the next several hours news of two or three injured teenagers changed to several fatalities. I looked to the sky and visualized angels among the feather-like clouds as tears welled behind my sunglasses. My phone continued to ring and text messages came in one after another as friends and family members checked on my daughter and updated me on the situation.

In the meantime, Jon stuck a really nice trout on a waking bait and slicks finally began to emerge. It appeared that we were about to get a little flurry of action.We only managed to catch a few more fish but at this point our minds were obviously elsewhere. We finally pulled the plug on our trip and headed to the ramp. I learned of even more fatalities on my drive home along with numerous other injuries.

Normally when I get home I tell my family how my day of fishing went and there’s usually a funny story or two to tell. There would be no fishing stories to tell on this day. When I walked through the door my wife, daughter and her boyfriend, along with my mother-in-law, were together in the living room. We all hugged and cried together, thankful to still have our little family safe and together but deeply saddened by what so many others were having to endure.

I honestly don’t know how I can cry any more tears than I’ve cried yet the sadness that permeates my soul couldn’t be anywhere close to those of the victims’ families. The hurt is almost unbearable. I know it will pass at some point for me but not for those who were directly affected.

The Santa Fe community is strong and caring.Everyone has pulled together to form one big family during these trying times. We are all doing everything we can to comfort the families of the deceased and injured. Others outside of our small town have poured in support as well. It will be a long time before things around here feel normal. In the meantime, we will all try to resume our daily routines and, most likely forever, will painfully remember what happened during those two first period art classes at Santa Fe High School on May 18, 2018.

Rest in eternal peace – Students: Jared Black, Kimberly Vaughan, Chris Stone, Sabika Sheikh, Angelique Ramirez, Aaron Kyle McLeod, Christian Riley Garcia, Shana Fisher and Substitute Teachers: Glenda “Ann” Perkins and Cynthia Tisdale.