Fish Story

Yep, big fish

My brother, my cousin George and myself were around 9-10 years old and went fishing. We fished off the South Main street bridge over the Dykes creek in Wellsville, N.Y. We could see these great big suckers down in the water straight below. We'd drop the bait and hook right near them but they wouldn't bite. After a while, we learned if we just yanked quick when the fish swam over the bait, we could snag them. The fishing got good and in no time we had about 10 suckers (bottom feeders) 16-20 inches long. We strung a thin green tree limb through their gills and mouths and with one end of the stick on my shoulder and the other end behind me on either George's or John's shoulder and all these big fish hanging in between, we went marching home. We were sure turning heads of drivers and the factory workers who were on break at the factory that was next to the creek. We were proud because this was maybe 10-15 pounds of fish.

We went to George's house to show off the fish. My aunt Gert looked at the fish and since it was about 3 pm, and she was about to cook supper, she said "Boys, that's a nice bunch of fish, why don't I cook them up for supper?" That surprised us, but we thought it was a great idea. We worked feverishly to get them cleaned and scaled because Uncle Gus would be home from work at 5 pm and it was after 3 pm now. Gert cooked them up with mashed potatoes (we're Irish) and some greens beans. Gus arrives and everyone sits down at the table and Gus says "Wow, that's a lot of fish." It was a big platter in the middle of the table. Everyone is telling us what a fine catch this is. I put a big piece of fish on my plate and some potatoes and I'm going to avoid the green beans if it is remotely possible. The fish looks delicious and I popped a big chunk in my mouth. Oh my God, this tastes like shit, maybe mud. I'd rather think mud than shit. You know, a psychological thing. I gotta get this out of my mouth. I put my hand to my mouth and faked a cough and landed that mouthful of fish in my hand, and slipped it back to the plate. That was awful. Maybe I'll have a few of those green beans after all. This is funny. I'm looking around the table at all my cousins, my brother, and my aunt and uncle, and you've never seen such facial expressions. Just picture one of your favorite relatives trying to swallow a turd and you'll have a pretty good idea. Now multiply that by 8.

Suddenly uncle Gus spit the whole mouthful onto and near his plate, and said "Jesus Christ, Gert, what the hell kind of fish is that? Everybone catches the cue and spits their own mouthfuls, with great relief. Gert says, "why the boys just caught these fish Gus. They looked like they would be delicious." I'm the oldest, so Gus looks me in the eye. "What kind of fish are these, David?" I replied "suckers, but big ones." I told him we brought them to the house to show them off and Gert offered to cook them. We thought we had done good. "Where did you catch the fish, David?" "Off the South Main Street bridge, Gus." "They're suckers, David, you don't eat suckers. Did you see a big pipe that empties into the creek there? That empties raw sewage there. I don't know what all the Preheater dumps in there. You might as well swallow a turd." Gus didn't need to tell me about the turd, I'd already figured that out from that memorable mouthful. Gert's feelings were hurt because she was just trying to be helpful. She figured all fish was good eating. We loved her just the same, but she's the only person I ever knew who could make cake that bounced off the floor if you dropped it or threw it. That'd be sorta unbreakable cake. Good with milk.