Wally Gets the Hook

Ted, his best friend Wally, and I decided to go fishing in the crick near Uncle Jake’s shanty. Catching fish was not only a fun activity, but during the Great Depression the fish we caught were a key part of our family diet.

Even though Jake’s crick was dry during the Dust Bowl years, we knew that behind the bridge there was a large water hole where we could catch bullheads. We threw our lines in the hole and waited for the fish to start biting.

Not even a nibble.

To try to change our luck, we decided to rile up the water a little. We walked into the water hole wearing our overalls and stirred around the water. Our goal was to stir up enough mud that the fish would need to come to the surface to breathe.

It was a muddy mess! Some bullheads came to the top for gasping for air, so in that way our strategy was working. But we still couldn’t catch any fish. 

In desperation, Ted threw his fishing pole it in the water, yanked it out, and threw it back in. In all the commotion, Wally got the hook in the palm of his hand!

We could not get the hook out. Wally was crying. We didn’t know what to do, so we took Wally to Uncle Jake’s shanty. 

Uncle Jake was the brother of Ted’s mother, Katie, Pa’s first wife. Uncle Jake was a bachelor, and he was very attached to his niece and nephews. He was a mechanical genius and was always working on cars and machinery. 

Uncle Jake said all we had to do was clip off the fishhook and pull it through. He clipped it off; however, when he tried to pull it through the skin of Wally’s hand, Wally howled. Wally would not allow him to pull that barb through. It was just too painful. 

At that point, we gave up and took Wally home to his parents. His parents took him to the doctor to remove the hook.

Poor Wally got the hook.