I grew up on the bay spending ever bit of my free time playing on the beaches of the upper end of Galveston bay. This was in the early 60’s that was back when was a beach that ran from Morgan’s Point to Clear Lake. The perfect world for boy to grow up. About 1963 I started making trip to the beach on my own. This was before we had the problems we have today. A boy of 6 years could run the streets of a town of 12,000 and people knew who he was and cared that he was safe. A time when the streets were safe not because the police force was better at keep tabs on their town. I was that people that lived in the town took the time to know the people that live in there town. And took the time to ask when something just didn’t look right and if they had seen something that wasn’t right they put a stop to it. Mainly they just took time out of their day to ask why and confront thing they felt wasn’t right with the understand people that live in the area would do the same for them. Both my parents work so in the summer time I spent a lot of time in my world it was my treasure island. I defended my world from the bad guy and whoever if felt would try and take my world from me. At the age of 7 I started playing around with fishing. It was after a trip to my grandpa’s and he gave me my first fishing spin-cast pole. It wasn’t much but is found a new area of my world that I had overlooked. That was back when coke came in glass bottles and 10 bottle put a pound of dead shrimp in my fishing bucket. I cut my teeth on pin fish, croakers and the all allusive head heads. About the fourth trip to my world that first summer of fishing I hooked up with my first redfish. It was a cool summer morning just after the sun had came up. I was trolling my bait off the back of my 30 foot boat like I had seen on a trip to Galveston and dreamed about ever since. I had mad a pass with out a hit feeling that I hadn’t trolled the bait up close to the rock pile were the record pin fish hung out. As the bait was worked pass the pile I reeled up some slack. It’s felt like I had ran to close and had hung up my bait on a rock in the pile. Standing up out of the fighting chair in the back of my make believe boat I reeled in some more slack and then it happen. Like a explosion my reel started screaming like I have never heard it before. As the fish shot out from the pile my dream boat disappeared and I had a fight on my hands what seemed like and hour was most likely a few min, I got the fish pulled up on the sand beach. I was the biggest fish I had ever landed a real prize catch. Being the big game fisherman I was all that flashed in my mind was getting home and showing off my catch. Loaded up my fishing bucket I ran all the way home. To show off what a catch I had bagged. When I got there no one was home just the man that lived next door. He made a big deal and took a picture and measured the fish. It was a whapping 14 inches. And I was sold on fishing from that point on I had salt in my blood and there was nothing that could fix it but fishing. The beach the picture and the man next door are long gone. But the picture memories in my mind will always be there. I wish we could keep things the way they are some time but every day our wold changes. But we can keep some things going. Take a kid fishing when you can relive your childhood and instill a sport that they can carry through their life and will always enjoy. Take the time to care and the payoff will come back as a warm feeling in your hart that you my have given a gift for life.