06/08/2026
My mom, Donita, recently found some old fishing pictures of me from when I was a kid while looking through old photo albums. She mailed them to me, and I'm glad she did.
When I opened the box, I immediately remembered this trip. What surprised me was that there were more photos than the one I had remembered all these years.
These pictures were taken during the summer of 1987 when I was 9 years old.
I traveled from southeast Louisiana with my grandparents, Grandma Maum and Papa Maum, to a family reunion in Fort Smith, Arkansas. After the reunion, we visited some of their friends who had moved to Lawton, Oklahoma.
I remember catching the crappie in Fort Smith. At the time, it felt huge.
What I didn't remember were the photos from Oklahoma.
There are pictures of Papa Maum and me fishing together around a pond and creek. There are pictures of him teaching me how to clean fish. Looking at them now, nearly 40 years later, those moments mean more to me than any fish we caught.
I know I fished before this trip, but these are some of my earliest fishing memories.
Looking back, I realize how special that trip was. A boy from southeast Louisiana got to spend time on the road with his grandparents, catch fish in Arkansas and Oklahoma, and learn lessons that would stay with him for the rest of his life.
He taught me how to fish.
He taught me how to clean fish.
He taught me to enjoy time outdoors.
Looking back now, I realize he was teaching me a lot more than that.
Many years later, those lessons are still with me every time I pick up a fishing rod.
In a lot of ways, Harsch Fishing started right here.
Who taught you to fish?