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College Protest for Angler Advocacy

The Great Outdoors

      

As a freshman at the University of Montevallo, I knew that the proximity to Lay Lake and my grandfather’s old house would be a draw for me during the doldrums of college study. Little did I know though, that my occasional angler protests of attendance to early morning classes during the summer terms, would give rise to a most memorable experience that had little to do with fishing. Marvin Merrell, my Paw Paw, owned a general store in Fayetteville. I still occasionally meet folks who speak fondly of him. He was a great man to me. I have great memories of fishing from his little “john boat” and the end of his pier. He taught me much about Lay Lake, fishing, and life. It was an hour or more to drive to the boat launch just upriver from Paw Paw’s old house. I liked to fish in that area because it was familiar and special. Seeing the old train trussell bed dissolve underneath the water reminded me of times he and I fished in the same spot. Cast after cast, the fisherman of my college days spent plenty of time reminiscing about the days of my childhood spent with him.

Walt Merrell fishing as a child
I’ve lost count of the fish we caught and the memories we made. I honestly only remember a few times now… time overtakes me.

I wasn’t all that good of a fisherman, but time poorly invested on the water was much preferred to time more properly spent in Roy Lechtreck’s 8 a.m. Political Science class. I often told my buddies “I am protesting!” Professor Roy, as students referred to him, often taught of protests and civil unrest. I thought it fitting to occasionally protest his class in the name of Angler Advocacy. The Bassmaster himself, Montgomery native Ray Scott, would be proud! On one morning of protesting, my yellow-hulled 14-foot “beater” boat cut a slice through the mirrored glass surface of the lake. I craned my neck trying to gain a better line of sight as the old black and blue, 20-horsepower Mercury pushed the boat. I headed toward the cove that Paw Paw called Kelley Branch. The pollen lay heavy on the water at the mouth of the cove, and I knew that meant no boats had been there yet. Slowing to an idle on my approach, I didn’t want to throw a wake up and into the cove. At idle, a deep rumble reverberated from the stern, and fear quickly set in. Turning to see what acid-refluxed bowel movement had just emerged from my old and ragged outboard, I fully expected to find smoke or worse. Instead, nothing. Still, the rumble and gurgle grew stronger and stronger. I cut the motor off completely to avoid further damage and the rumble persisted.

Walt's grandfather holding fish
I’ll never forget how my Paw Paw made me feel on those afternoon fishing trips. It wasn’t as much about fishing as it was about life. He sharpened me. Proverbs 27:17.

Searching the far end of the lake, I fully expected to see the Loch Ness monster or a nuclear submarine, or more likely, I feared a larger and faster boat running straight toward me. Much to my disbelief, three C-130 Hercules planes rounded the lower bend, roaring at full throttle a mere 100 feet above the water. Like synchronized swimmers, the pilots mirrored each other’s zig and zags as they snaked up the riverbank. Within moments, they were upon me. The four turboprop engines rattled the bolts in my old boat and reverberated their tones through my chest. I was in awe, as I strained my neck trying to catch every glimpse. “Stand up, boy,” I heard over the encroaching sound scream… “Yes, sir,” I responded out loud. And I did, and I saluted, as the planes flew close enough that I ducked slightly. For whatever reason, I imagined my Paw Paw’s voice of 15 years earlier, as he had commanded me to stand at the passing of a column of “army vehicles” near the filling station as we gassed up his old El Camino. I was five years old. I saluted then, too. I was never in the military. I don’t know why I saluted… except to show respect and appreciation – because I do. God bless you men and women who fight to preserve our freedoms- especially our freedom to worship free from government intrusion. And God bless Israel, too. I stand for America, and I stand with Israel.

-Walt Merrell

A Christian Outdoorsman who writes of his adventures with his family, with the hope that others might be inspired and encouraged to embrace God’s tapestry, otherwise known as the great outdoors, as a means of finding Common Ground. You can follow him at Shepherding Outdoors on FB, YT and IG and at shepherdingoutdoors.com. His most recent book is available at shepherdingbook.com. Read his faith story at www.BirminghamChristian.com

 

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