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What follows is my submission for the memoir prompt Nuts About Memoir…
I haven’t seen it much lately; the river which flows through much of my life. The Stillwater flows roughly sixty miles through 3 counties in western Ohio. Not much of a river really, this tributary to the Great Miami. Small, scenic, never angrily roaring (only swells up when overfed); the Stillwater meanders quietly over glacier plains and through my life.
I learned to fish on that river. I also learned (at an early age) never, I mean NEVER stand behind someone when they are casting. OUCH!
I have watched a fishing pole slide into a reservoir on that river. I have seen that very same pole be ‘caught’ 5 minutes later, along with the seven pound catfish that had taken the pole for a ride. I was ten, it was dark, and my dad’s cousin had the keen eye to see the where the pole and fish may be hung up.
Once, just below the Englewood Dam, there must have been seven of us fishing, when my mom let a cast fly, along with a brand new Zebco 303; in pieces. The reel just came apart in mid cast. Was funny then, and is still funny when I look back at it.
I saw my first blue heron and caught a glimpse of a bald eagle at the Stillwater. I have camped alone at the Stillwater. I have seen foxfire at the Stillwater. I have built rafts from the flotsam and jetsam and floated the Stillwater.
It wasn’t 100 yards from where my 4 year old son and I sought shelter from a tornado, that I spent about 3 hours, later that same summer, not fishing because he was catching so many, so often, and needed help getting them off the hook.
Great fun was had both times that year.
It is about a half mile walk along the Stillwater to find where the waters of Ludlow Creek flow into the river. It’s not an easy walk, so it’s a great place to fish (doesn’t get crowded). It is here, where the pristine and swift creek waters meet the dark green (sometimes brown) river water. On the corner of the two banks, is a sycamore tree I climbed 3 times in 30 minutes to retrieve a bobber, hook, and line.
My daughter never wanted to go fishing again.
It was that very same spot that I found myself one day at noon. I had a very frustrating morning hitting the bricks, looking for a job. I was in the area (well, that’s my excuse) and decided to make that half a mile trek. Straight up 12 and I was casting my favorite Rebel Craw lure. In and out, along the dividing line of the waters, across the sandbar I would dart that lure.
I caught 6 smallmouth bass between 12:00 and 12:15. It was as if I was scheduled to meet the fish for a lunch date. The personal troubles melted away with Mountain Dew and willing fish. Honestly, the best part of that trip was leaning against that sycamore and laughing to myself about my daughter catching limbfish. I wish she was there laughing with me.
The Shawnee and Miami Indians inhabited the river valley and found the fertile hunting grounds to be plentiful enough to fight for. But, after a protracted and bloody war, the Treaty of Greenville was signed in 1795; an act that ushered in the European settling of the western frontier of Ohio.
In March of 1913, after a particularly hard winter, 11 inches of rain feel in two days. The ground in the area was saturated by the melting snow, so all the rain caused massive flooding all the Great Miami River and its tributaries. The lives lost totaled 360 and damage cost would have been about $2 billion dollars in today’s economy.
As a result, five dams and several levees were all constructed by 1922; all in the name of flood control. Every year, civil engineers from all over the world come to the area and visit the 5 dams, including the Englewood Dam that controls the Stillwater, because they are part of a unique system.
A friend of John Dillinger had a house near the Stillwater. I have seen the now cemented over secret entrance to a room where Dillinger hid. The room is under a man made shallow pond, and the entrance is behind water falls.
This history may not be as interesting as the history attached to other, mightier rivers, but it is history nonetheless. Yet, none of it is as great as the history that belongs to myself and the little river. A history I can call all my own.
It was never really about the fishing. I have caught many fish that would have made stellar trophies, and they were set free. No, my love of that river goes to the core and soothes my sometimes aching soul.
I may not see it as much as I once did, but the Stillwater River flows through me
wherever I go.
© 2010, Alex Crabtree. All rights reserved.
The #River of My Life http://goo.gl/fb/zBS1U #memoirs #memoirs #nuts
The River of My Life | Memoir | Extreme Writing Now: I haven't seen it much lately; the river which flows through … http://bit.ly/c6hbYv
Powerful! A lot of memories and good times at the Stillwater. There’s something really profound about that. I hope writing this prompts a fishing trip.
RT @Drifter0658: The #River of My Life http://goo.gl/fb/zBS1U #memoirs #memoirs #nuts
There is something about our souls and the waters of this earth, those life giving and always changing waters. Stillwater sounds wonderful, especially with the Alex history attached to it. Sounds like this is a very special soulful place for you.
Revisited: The River of My Life – What follows is my submission for the memoir prompt [intlink id="2178"… http://is.gd/f5PGtE #ewn