The Empty Bucket
A fishing story, by Terry Martin
I woke early and felt nature calling, but where was I to go on a drizzling cold Saturday Morning? An unction made me want to check things out on the Osage River behind Bagnell Dam. The drive southwest of Jefferson City was hauntingly beautiful through dense fog. Upon arrival to a favorite place, near the dam, I felt good. Upon arrival, I was unable to get as close as usual, because of construction work to add tons of concrete to Bagnell Dam. I pulled off the road in a less muddy place. After parking and looking things over, I planned my exit as to avoid getting stuck where I parked. I saw I could drive forward, on the downhill road shoulder. I also noticed rutted tire tracks filled with water. The track between my rear tires was full of minnows swimming in the muddy water. I gently picked them out and added them to my bait bucket. What a find, I had no live bait. Then I used my disposable coffee cup to add some more water to the bucket of “survivor” minnows. I sensed at that moment it would be a different kind of day!
With bait bucket in hand, I picked a couple of fishing rods from the truck bed and walked down the steep incline to the rushing river behind the dam. I saw an Eagle above, but no other visitors. I guessed the weather was too bad. But I was not upset about being alone and recalled a message I have posted and otherwise shared - this is a belief that “I do not fish to be happy, but am happy because a Great Spirit fishes with me”
The fog was lifting a bit, but the drizzle was now light rain. I pulled the canvas Hood over my head. When I stood at the river’s edge, I started to use a minnow for bait and found there was one dead, the rest were still alive. So I used the dead one and released the rest back into the river. Foolish, maybe, but they survived, so I helped them survive indefinitely. I too, wanted more than survival for an indefinite time, and I needed to be where I was. My hearing is almost gone, therefore; I did not hear a stranger walk up behind me. He tapped me on the shoulder and asked for a light of his cigarette –
sorry I said, I had nothing to offer except a smile. He said something, so I pulled off the hood and asked him to speak louder, explaining I am hard of hearing. He had no fishing gear and did not have warm clothes. He asked me about the fishing and I told him I had only begun. He said his “junker” overheated and he had just been released from jail. I responded by saying - it did not matter to me he had been in jail but, he could use my empty bucket to get water and pour it in the radiator of his vehicle when the engine cooled down.
The next words he spoke were about a time he remembered: he was seven years old when he caught a really big fish, while fishing with his father, right where we were standing. Today he decided t come back to his church. Where is that I said, “here of course” he replied, then he spoke at length about fishing with his father. I asked him about his dad, “He was a part time fishing guide, and, he told me story after story. After a while he shared with me his dad was gone, “drugs got the best of him”. I told him I was sorry, and suggested he pick up my spare fishing rod and we would try to catch something. Then I shared some Gospel stories, until he asked me if I really liked fishing, or was I just hungry?
I answered with my belief about being happy. Yes, in that way I do like fishing I said to him. Something directed the conversion of this stranger. He said this place was his church, and he questioned me about the Great Spirit I believed fished with me. Time in the cold miserable conditions seemed to pas quickly and it was about an hour before “Jimmy” put down the fishing rod and left with a bucket of water. I assured him the water would get him a few more miles down the road and I hoped the Holy Spirit would carry him farther. He said such an amazing thing to me. His departing comment helped me completely understand my fishless day. Jimmy said – “You fish while you are fishing don’t you?”
I smiled again and waved goodbye. When I left the river and climbed up the hill, I saw my empty bucket placed next to my truck.
A fishing story, by Terry Martin
I woke early and felt nature calling, but where was I to go on a drizzling cold Saturday Morning? An unction made me want to check things out on the Osage River behind Bagnell Dam. The drive southwest of Jefferson City was hauntingly beautiful through dense fog. Upon arrival to a favorite place, near the dam, I felt good. Upon arrival, I was unable to get as close as usual, because of construction work to add tons of concrete to Bagnell Dam. I pulled off the road in a less muddy place. After parking and looking things over, I planned my exit as to avoid getting stuck where I parked. I saw I could drive forward, on the downhill road shoulder. I also noticed rutted tire tracks filled with water. The track between my rear tires was full of minnows swimming in the muddy water. I gently picked them out and added them to my bait bucket. What a find, I had no live bait. Then I used my disposable coffee cup to add some more water to the bucket of “survivor” minnows. I sensed at that moment it would be a different kind of day!
With bait bucket in hand, I picked a couple of fishing rods from the truck bed and walked down the steep incline to the rushing river behind the dam. I saw an Eagle above, but no other visitors. I guessed the weather was too bad. But I was not upset about being alone and recalled a message I have posted and otherwise shared - this is a belief that “I do not fish to be happy, but am happy because a Great Spirit fishes with me”
The fog was lifting a bit, but the drizzle was now light rain. I pulled the canvas Hood over my head. When I stood at the river’s edge, I started to use a minnow for bait and found there was one dead, the rest were still alive. So I used the dead one and released the rest back into the river. Foolish, maybe, but they survived, so I helped them survive indefinitely. I too, wanted more than survival for an indefinite time, and I needed to be where I was. My hearing is almost gone, therefore; I did not hear a stranger walk up behind me. He tapped me on the shoulder and asked for a light of his cigarette –
sorry I said, I had nothing to offer except a smile. He said something, so I pulled off the hood and asked him to speak louder, explaining I am hard of hearing. He had no fishing gear and did not have warm clothes. He asked me about the fishing and I told him I had only begun. He said his “junker” overheated and he had just been released from jail. I responded by saying - it did not matter to me he had been in jail but, he could use my empty bucket to get water and pour it in the radiator of his vehicle when the engine cooled down.
The next words he spoke were about a time he remembered: he was seven years old when he caught a really big fish, while fishing with his father, right where we were standing. Today he decided t come back to his church. Where is that I said, “here of course” he replied, then he spoke at length about fishing with his father. I asked him about his dad, “He was a part time fishing guide, and, he told me story after story. After a while he shared with me his dad was gone, “drugs got the best of him”. I told him I was sorry, and suggested he pick up my spare fishing rod and we would try to catch something. Then I shared some Gospel stories, until he asked me if I really liked fishing, or was I just hungry?
I answered with my belief about being happy. Yes, in that way I do like fishing I said to him. Something directed the conversion of this stranger. He said this place was his church, and he questioned me about the Great Spirit I believed fished with me. Time in the cold miserable conditions seemed to pas quickly and it was about an hour before “Jimmy” put down the fishing rod and left with a bucket of water. I assured him the water would get him a few more miles down the road and I hoped the Holy Spirit would carry him farther. He said such an amazing thing to me. His departing comment helped me completely understand my fishless day. Jimmy said – “You fish while you are fishing don’t you?”
I smiled again and waved goodbye. When I left the river and climbed up the hill, I saw my empty bucket placed next to my truck.