Dutchtown people had to work hard throughout history just to make a living. But when there was time for relaxation, that frequently involved fishing. I have previously written about setting hooks on Walnut Creek. That was always a memorable adventure, but we had several more fishing holes in the area that we enjoyed. The one we frequented most often was the lake at the home of Mr. Schiffer. He had a small lake at his home in the southeast corner of Jonesboro And North Mount Carmel, so it was only about a mile away from home. I don’t know if it was true, but I thought Mr. Schiffer was the most famous man I knew. He owned multiple convenience stores in the Atlanta area called Charlie’s Markets. He was always very nice to us, and we enjoyed spending a lot of time around his lake, pulling out bream and an occasional bass.
We visited another place just down the road. You had to have a key to the gate to gain access to it and my grandfather, Howard Chaffin, had one. He would take us back there, and we would mostly watch him pull in largemouth bass while we mostly were just wetting hooks. It was still fun to be out there with him and enjoying the lake, which I thought was huge. That was Lake Erma, and it is now surrounded by fancy houses and a golf course.
We also went with Uncle Monroe to a lake with large bream that even kids could catch with regularity. I don’t know if Uncle Monroe’s parent’s lived there or met us there, but I remember Mr. Roy and Ms. Jessie being there. Families used fishing as a good excuse to get together, and I don’t think the fishing mattered that much.
I can recall catching catfish out of the muddy lakes on what is now known as Nash Farm. I never felt comfortable there, though, as the lakes were out in the open in the middle of a huge cow pasture, and I never felt comfortable around cows.
Sometimes our vacations were even centered around fishing. One time, we went up into the mountains, and we were supposedly trout fishing in the rivers up there. For some reason, Kevin Wesley and I were on the opposite side of the stream from everyone else. I was leading the way, and I felt something stick in the top of my head. I thought Kevin must have let his hook dangle in my head, and I turned around to yell at him. However, he wasn’t quite close enough for that to be the issue. Then it happened. The yellowjackets that hit me once in the head were really hitting Kevin everywhere. Daddy told us to jump in the water, and I did without really knowing why. Kevin either didn’t hear him, or it didn’t compute why he should do that. Daddy ran over and pulled him into the water. I think they were worried about him because we were a long walk from the vehicles, but he was fine.
Henry David Thoreau said, “Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.” Somehow, I think we knew it while we were still boys – if not in our heads, at least in our hearts.