HOW FISHING SAVED MY LIFE
A personal point of view from a hypothetical student, Carl Sandorn ~ written by Charles Breitweiser
As an only child, growing up in a single parent home was always lonely. I wasn’t a very sociable kid. I had almost no friends, except for my friend Stewart. I thought Stewart was the coolest kid in school. He didn’t have many friends either, but Stewart didn’t care, he wanted to be left alone anyway. Stewart and I started hanging out with this other cool kid that Stewart met on the train, his name was Jerry. Jerry was always into something, he had fancy jewelry, expensive boots, nice clothes, not bad for a 12 year old that didn’t have a job.
One day Jerry offered Stewart and I a joint. We smoked it with Jerry, but it didn’t do much for me. Jerry said, “You have to smoke more every day so it builds up in your blood. Then you’ll only have to smoke a little and you’ll get high.” I started hanging out with Stewart and Jerry every day smoking pot that Jerry had. I asked him one time where he got so much pot, and he pushed me in my chest as I fell to the ground, upon my back. Stewart then jumped on top of me and said, “Never ask me that again, or I’ll kill you” I was afraid and said I was sorry. I didn’t know it would upset him so much. So, Jerry started hanging out with Stewart more often. It got to the point, I would always see them together. It looked like I lost my best friend to Jerry.
Here I am hanging around at the park with nothing to do, no friends or anything. I’d roam around the streets, sometimes catch the train to New York, but that can be expensive. I wanted to find out how Jerry was able to get such nice clothes and so much pot to smoke. I knew of some other tough kids in school who were pot smokers, but they were bad kids that liked to get into fights. This one kid Tommy, he was a real punk kid very rude and nasty, and was failing school. He just hung out in the back of the school with the other bad kids smoking pot.
After a week or so, I worked up enough courage to talk to Tommy and asked him where I could get some pot. He said, “That depends on how much money ya got.” I could skip eating lunch for the week and save up the lunch money my mother gave me for lunch, and then by the end of the week I would have $5 he laughed and said, “what do you want a half a joint? If you want to make some good money, listen up,” he gets close and whispers in my ear, “I know a guy that works at the loading docks and gets this stuff right off the ship when they deliver furniture. He has so much of it he doesn’t know what to do with it all. We gotta go down there and talk to him maybe he can set you up.”
The next day after school, I met with Tommy and we rode the train to the docks in Perth Amboy. Picture us two small kids walking onto the loading docks where all these big burly looking, rough, tough, longshoremen are working. Dock inspectors and police officers from the US customs Department were always there to check on any irregularities. This is hardly the place for 2 young kids, but we walked onward regardless of the stares we received from them.
I followed Tommy through a doorway down a long hallway of weathered galvanized steel, which was above the water. We walked up a short set of steps and met this tall old gray haired man with a long black beard and no front teeth. When he saw us he said to Tommy, “Tommy,” as the drool dripped out of his mouth because of the missing teeth, “what are you doing here now, and who’s this kid?” pointing at me. Tommy said, “This is Carl, a kid from school, Carl this is Suds. He’s interested in conducting a little business with you, ya know that problem you needed help with. "Suds grabbed Tommy by the arm and shouted at him,” I told you never bring anyone here. This is my job. What do you think would happen if anyone knew what we were doing?” Tommy replied, “I’m sorry I just wanted you to see why I’m going to ask you to front me some more weed, I’m not smoking up all the weed you’ve been fronting me.” Tommy pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and gives it to Suds and says, “See I’ve really been selling it this time.” Suds picks up the money and starts counting it, and says, “it’s $20 short.” Tommy answers in a panicked voice, “Don’t worry Suds I’ll have the rest of it by tonight.”
Suds focused his beady brown eyes on me and said to Tommy, “How well do you know this little runt?” talking about me as the spit shot out of his mouth with every word he said. Tommy replied, “I see him every day at school. I could get my hands on him anytime.” Suds opened a steel cabinet and pulled out a tin can, he pulled out a flat head screwdriver from the drawer and pried the lid off the tin can. He reached into the tin can and pulled out a big bag, and the contents was in a brick shape with a red string tied around it holding it in its rectangular shape. He held it up to his nose and sniffed it. Inhaling its delicate yet powerful aroma, and looking off dreamily, as he enjoyed the smell of it. He handed it to Tommy and said, "This is the last stash I’m fronting you.” Tommy put it under his jacket, zipped it up, thanked Suds, and walked down the steps, toward the steel hallway, I followed quickly behind him, and we headed toward the train. All the while I was saying to myself, “I don’t ever want to have to come here again.”
When we got on the train, Tommy told me to check the other nearby train cars and see if I know anyone on there that may want to buy some pot. I looked in the car ahead, and didn’t recognize anyone. Then I checked the rear car and saw Stewart riding by himself. I walked up to him with a big, glad to see a familiar face, smile. I sat next to him smiled and whispered, “Interested in buying any pot?” Stewart punched me in the chest and said, “I’m selling weed for Jerry, and if he finds out your selling weed too, he’s gonna beat the crap out of you.” The punk young kid I was becoming, didn’t take this threat very seriously, and said to Stewart, “Yeah, I dare him to come near me.” I went back and sat with Tommy and told him I didn’t recognize anyone on the train. Tommy handed me a bag of pot and told me I could make some good extra money by selling joints to kids I know that smoke pot.
The next day we met in the boy’s bathroom at school and Tommy taught me how to roll joints, and pack them in a bag to sell. The last thing Tommy said to me as he left the bathroom was, “Don’t get caught.” I vowed not to, and if I were going to get caught I’d swallow the evidence. As I was opening the door to leave the bathroom, I met Jerry who was just coming in. He pushed me back into the bathroom, and started shouting at me about breaking into his territory. I kicked him hard between the legs and he went down to the floor gagging. I ran out as fast as I could, because I knew Jerry was mad and wanted to hurt me. The next few days I skipped going to school, because I knew Jerry would be looking for me.
One night at the dinner table my mother told me she received a call at work from the school principal asking why I wasn’t in school all last week, and the first 2 days of this week, and I was in danger of failing school. I told her that a kid in school was threatening to hurt me. My mother asked if I was planning to stay out of school forever. I didn’t think of it that way. But she was right. I have to confront this problem. head on, so I thought.
The next day I went into my garage and found a short wooden club that I could insert in the sleeve of my jacket and walk to school. I actually went looking for Jerry. As I approached the walk way toward the back of the school playground area, Jerry came running at me full-speed. I saw him coming, I took 1 step forward, let the club slip out of the sleeve of my jacket, and took one hard swing like a batter playing baseball. I hit Jerry so hard in the face his teeth flew out in all directions; a huge splatter of blood smeared his jacket and the grass. Jerry lay on his back not moving, with blood pouring out of his mouth. Before I knew it, the whole area was surrounded with people. I just stood there looking at Jerry, who was not moving at all.
The next thing I knew I was being grabbed by a police officer, and being shoved in the back seat of the police car. Handcuffs, arrested, the whole thing. As we pulled away I saw the ambulance pull up to take Jerry to the hospital. Here I am sitting in the police station in front of the whole collection of police officers on the phone, filing and looking at me. A skinny young desk officer looked at me and said, ”Kid you sit right there, we called your mother at work and she’s coming right down here.” I was too nervous and scared to ask about Jerry. All I knew is I was sitting here with 35 joints in my sock and I’m about to get busted. I asked if I could get up to go to the bathroom, and a red faced angry-looking desk sergeant shouted, ”You aint movin from that spot till your mother gets here.”
I held it in for what seemed like hours, when my mother angrily walked in the front door. She approached me and I shouted “Mommy!” relieved to see her, but she gave me a quick smack in the mouth and said, “Don’t talk to me.” The shock was so overwhelming I couldn’t hold it back anymore and wet my pants. I asked if I could go to the bathroom now.
The desk sergeant came over and made sure my handcuffs were still on securely, grabbed my left elbow and escorted me to the bathroom. I was wondering, how I am going to be able to flush this pot down the toilet with handcuffs on. It didn’t really matter, because the sergeant came into the bathroom with me. He put on a nauseating expression as he unbuckled my belt and opened my pants for me and saw I had already wet myself. He angrily pulled my pants up gain and escorted me out of the bathroom back to my seat on the bench by the hot radiator and the front window. I felt like I was on display to show all the kids in the neighborhood what could happen to them if they don’t watch themselves. I was glad it was a tinted glass because I think I saw Stewart out there, and would really have laughed at me if he saw me sitting there.
My mother was in the office talking to the police chief until dark. When she came out her face was white with worry, and the red faced sergeant opened my handcuffs and my mother coldly ordered me to follow her to the car. As we walked out to the parking lot, I tried to explain that I was only trying to protect myself from Jerry. All she kept saying was, “I had to lose half a days pay for this!” When we got home she sat up all night talking to me about the bad kids I have for friends and that I need to get some new friends. I told her none of the other kids want to have anything to do with me, no one would be my friend except for Stewart and Tommy. My mother was trying to encourage me to join a baseball or basketball team at school. I know she meant well, but I’m just not the athletic type. I’m slow and a little overweight, but I knew she was right about needing new friends, but where? The other kids around here don’t want to hang out with kids like me.
One day at school, I got called down to the principal’s office, to go see Mr. Wilson, the school board superintendent instead of the principal, Mr Adams. Mr. Wilson said I was in danger of failing and having to repeat 6th grade again. He has an idea that might keep me from failing. A program the school is starting called “Hooked On Fishing Not On Drugs” Mr. Wilson’s face lit up and got very excited when he spoke about the program, he said ”It’s a comprehensive program divided into (20) 1-hour lessons that teach core curriculum like Art, Health, Ecology, Biology, Physical education, and life skills like ethics, social interaction and self-confidence. An instructor from the Hooked On Fishing Not On Drugs New Jersey that will come and take you and any of the other children involved in the program out to some of our local lakes and have fishing contests.”
Of course I objected, and said, “Fishing! How boring can you get? I don’t wanna just sit there holding a stick with a worm on the end waiting for a fish to bite.” Mr. Wilson said this is my only chance of passing and I have to pass this course. So I figured this would be easy. And I agreed. The class doesn’t start for another week, in the meantime I was noticing signs posted on the school bulletin board and on the classroom doors that read “HOFNOD”. It seems every where I looked, I saw HOFNOD. I actually caught myself saying it “HOFNOD” what a stupid word, but it got stuck in my head and was bothering me. What does that mean? I looked it up in the dictionary, no such word. I looked on Google, and found it was Hooked On Fishing Not On Drugs. I mumbled to myself, ”how stupid”…
Monday morning my homeroom teacher told me to go to the gym for my first period class. I thought, “cool I like gym better than my 1st period English Literature. I got there and there were only about 25 fellow students, none were from my 1st period class, and I knew something was up. I even saw Stewart sitting on the gym floor with the rest of us. In the middle of the gym was a table and the gym teacher,Mr. Pachland, who introduced himself and filled a large bowl with goldfish crackers, passed the bowl out and said to us, “Go ahead and take as many as you want and pass the bowl around.” By the time the bowl got back Mr. Pachland, it was empty. Then he asked the last kid who had the bowl, “Did you get as many as you wanted?” The kid answered, “There was only 3 left.” Mr. Pachland said,” OK now here is you first lesson, conservation. Suppose this bowl was your local lake and you took as many fish as you wanted. First, the lake would be empty, and your fellow sportsmen wouldn’t catch anything. You want to always be conscious of how your actions will affect others down stream.”
Than he held up a plastic can holder for a 6-pack of beer, and asked, “Where do you think this would end up if you threw it on the street?” Everybody just sat and listened. Mr. Pachland said, "The first rain would wash this into the river, and look at these small can loops. Just big enough to trap a nice sized trout or bass, or a duck or goose could easily get their necks caught in this. Everything you throw on the ground ends up in the rivers. Our rivers are getting dramatically dirtier every year, from what they call run off. Run off is when rain washes sediments, fertilizers chemicals and all other things into the rivers.”
I was amazed to find out all these things about our water supply, and how everything we do affects our streams, and Mr. Pachland was so knowledgeable and animated while he explained the premises of conservation and ecology. I became so interested into learning, learning about the rivers and how threatened they are becoming. Every day was a different animated exercise we did with Mr. Pachland, and I could tell how interested he was in teaching it. One day he had rubber fish and he showed us how to roll ink on them and cover it with a white t shirt, and carefully press out every bubble and go along the fins and scales with your fingernail to capture the exact design of the fish around the eye, the fins and scales, the gills. The detail on this was astounding. We pulled the shirts up and we had an exact imprint of a fish. I did a trout. Other kids did bluegill, catfish, bass, carp, one kid had a shark.
I was enjoying this class and my mother would listen intently while I told her about the things I was doing in HOFNOD class. I was on time to class every day, and didn’t want to miss a single lesson. One day at class Mr. Pachland laid ten plastic fish on the gym floor and gave each of us a fishing pole with a plastic sinker on it. He taught us how to cast the line so the sinker would land right next to the fish we wanted to catch. It took some of us many tries to get it, but I got it after my 3rd try. The sinker landed just past the fish I wanted to get, and I reeled it in slowly, so the sinker would wedge itself in the fishes gill plate allowing me to pull it in. It was only a 4 pointer; I had to try again to get up to 10 points.
I actually started to like going to school. Mr. Pachland said he was surprised to see I didn’t miss a single day for the whole semester. I told him I was having fun learning about fishing in his class. He said, “If you like that wait till you see what’s coming up at the end of the marking period, the end of April.” I asked what and he said not to worry it’s a good surprise.
The end of the marking period was this week I couldn’t wait to find out what the surprise would be. I know I’m getting good grades, but that’s not the surprise Mr. Pachland was talking about. I rushed to school that morning figuring, something’s gotta be up by now, it’s April 28. I walked into gym, and Mr. Pachland was standing in the gym in the center of the floor next to a tall man, wearing sunglasses, in a green uniform, that had a badge on it, and a wide-brimmed brown hat with a badge on the front. I well knew he was not a police officer, because the patch on his shoulder said, Hooked On Fishing Not On Drugs. He stepped forward and made it look like he was counting heads. He said, “Three, four. ‘What? Only 4 girls in this class. That’s OK because the girls are better fishermen than the boys sometimes.” Us boys shouted in unison, ”No Way! Boys Rule” The instructor said, “All right, it looks like we got a competition going here!”
The instructor let out a loud whistle to quiet down all the shouting the boys were doing to the girls and the girls, although outnumbered, were shouting back at the boys with just as much volume. The instructor stepped forward and said, ”Hi, my name is Mr. Breitweiser, I'm a certified instructor from Hooked on Fishing Not On Drugs New Jersey. We will be having a fishing tournament tomorrow at Sunrise Lake. You don’t have to bring anything, except yourselves, we will supply all the fishing gear, bait, and even the lunches and drinks. If you have hats and sunglasses bring them, the ones we have may not fit everyone. We’ll be giving the winners some free fishing gear and lots of special awards. I need everyone to fill out this permission form and have your parents sign it, and bring it in with you. And also if any of you want your parents to come and fish with you, they can.”
After that Mr. Breitweiser went through the rest of the lesson explaining that catching fish is just like hunting. You have to sneak up on the fish, you have to find the places they’re hiding, how to present the bait and hook them. He also taught us how to cook and clean the fish. He showed us pictures of rivers and lakes and showed us how to read the water to determine where fish are hiding. I rushed home that day excited to tell my mother about the fishing trip I was going on tomorrow at school. When she walked in the door, I ran up to her with the permission slip in hand and before I even said hello. I showed the paper to her and asked her to sign it.” She said, “Wait let me get home from work first.” She read it over and said she never saw me so excited about something before, “Of course I’ll sign it.”
I couldn’t sleep that night because I was so excited about the next day. I woke up before my alarm went off. I was showered, ate breakfast and was all ready to leave for school before my mother left for work. Here I am patiently sitting at the breakfast table, waiting to go to school. My mother walked by and asked, “What are you doing up so early? I know, the big fishing contest, I’m sorry I can’t go with you. I have to go to work, but here, take this camera, I want to see pictures of your trip.”
She handed me a disposable Kodak camera. I was dreaming of a picture of me holding up the winning trout that was almost as big as me. Darn I’m sitting around waiting to go, but it seems so long I have to wait. I usually leave at a quarter to eight but I can go at seven thirty, I’ll just walk slowly. I locked the door and out I went, just looking at the bright sunshine that filled my smiling face, and the smells of the flowers and trees and the air pumping with life.
I arrived at school a little early, but I stood there watching the school buses line up to take us to Sunshine Lake. The first one I saw was Mr. Breitweiser pulling up in his truck full of new fishing gear, and a big cooler full of sandwiches and drinks. Everyone showed up. Some of the kids had parents with them. We lined up at the several buses and there was so much excitement in the air, it made me laugh for no reason. Then I started talking to a boy behind me, named Bobby. He was in 7th grade and a lot taller than me. It made me feel better because, he brought his father with him, and I was big enough not to need a parent. Bobby was a nice kid. We talked all about fishing and what we think we’re going to catch.
Everyone boarded their buses, parents too. And it was off to Sunshine Lake. As the bus pulled off the road onto a dirt road going up the hill, I could see how Sunshine Lake got its name. The Morning sun gleams off the surface of the lake like a giant mirror. Its funny that I passed this lake many times before, but never noticed this. I guess your sense of perception changes when your activities change. The busses came to a stop and we all jumped out yelling and Hooting in excited voices.
We fished all day. Everybody caught something. It was the first week after the New Jersey Division of Fish & Wildlife stocked the lake. And I made a new best friend, Bobby. I met lot of other nice kids at the fishing derby. I kept in touch with all of them in my school.
This is how fishing saved my life! It made me feel so great that I was accepted by a whole new group of friends. And I met their friends. Bobby and his father would drive to my house and we’d go on fishing trips. I tried to convince my mother to come with us, and as soon as she met Bobby’s father and he asked her to come, she couldn’t say no. Now we go fishing almost every weekend, instead of getting in trouble with those losers I used to hang out with. I tell Bobby he’s like a brother to me. And if his father and my mother get to know each other any better, we may really become brothers.
I think of this every time I see the proud picture of me holding a winning 17” Rainbow Trout, my mother taped on the refrigerator door. I’m definitely Hooked on fishing, that smile says it all.
One day Jerry offered Stewart and I a joint. We smoked it with Jerry, but it didn’t do much for me. Jerry said, “You have to smoke more every day so it builds up in your blood. Then you’ll only have to smoke a little and you’ll get high.” I started hanging out with Stewart and Jerry every day smoking pot that Jerry had. I asked him one time where he got so much pot, and he pushed me in my chest as I fell to the ground, upon my back. Stewart then jumped on top of me and said, “Never ask me that again, or I’ll kill you” I was afraid and said I was sorry. I didn’t know it would upset him so much. So, Jerry started hanging out with Stewart more often. It got to the point, I would always see them together. It looked like I lost my best friend to Jerry.
Here I am hanging around at the park with nothing to do, no friends or anything. I’d roam around the streets, sometimes catch the train to New York, but that can be expensive. I wanted to find out how Jerry was able to get such nice clothes and so much pot to smoke. I knew of some other tough kids in school who were pot smokers, but they were bad kids that liked to get into fights. This one kid Tommy, he was a real punk kid very rude and nasty, and was failing school. He just hung out in the back of the school with the other bad kids smoking pot.
After a week or so, I worked up enough courage to talk to Tommy and asked him where I could get some pot. He said, “That depends on how much money ya got.” I could skip eating lunch for the week and save up the lunch money my mother gave me for lunch, and then by the end of the week I would have $5 he laughed and said, “what do you want a half a joint? If you want to make some good money, listen up,” he gets close and whispers in my ear, “I know a guy that works at the loading docks and gets this stuff right off the ship when they deliver furniture. He has so much of it he doesn’t know what to do with it all. We gotta go down there and talk to him maybe he can set you up.”
The next day after school, I met with Tommy and we rode the train to the docks in Perth Amboy. Picture us two small kids walking onto the loading docks where all these big burly looking, rough, tough, longshoremen are working. Dock inspectors and police officers from the US customs Department were always there to check on any irregularities. This is hardly the place for 2 young kids, but we walked onward regardless of the stares we received from them.
I followed Tommy through a doorway down a long hallway of weathered galvanized steel, which was above the water. We walked up a short set of steps and met this tall old gray haired man with a long black beard and no front teeth. When he saw us he said to Tommy, “Tommy,” as the drool dripped out of his mouth because of the missing teeth, “what are you doing here now, and who’s this kid?” pointing at me. Tommy said, “This is Carl, a kid from school, Carl this is Suds. He’s interested in conducting a little business with you, ya know that problem you needed help with. "Suds grabbed Tommy by the arm and shouted at him,” I told you never bring anyone here. This is my job. What do you think would happen if anyone knew what we were doing?” Tommy replied, “I’m sorry I just wanted you to see why I’m going to ask you to front me some more weed, I’m not smoking up all the weed you’ve been fronting me.” Tommy pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and gives it to Suds and says, “See I’ve really been selling it this time.” Suds picks up the money and starts counting it, and says, “it’s $20 short.” Tommy answers in a panicked voice, “Don’t worry Suds I’ll have the rest of it by tonight.”
Suds focused his beady brown eyes on me and said to Tommy, “How well do you know this little runt?” talking about me as the spit shot out of his mouth with every word he said. Tommy replied, “I see him every day at school. I could get my hands on him anytime.” Suds opened a steel cabinet and pulled out a tin can, he pulled out a flat head screwdriver from the drawer and pried the lid off the tin can. He reached into the tin can and pulled out a big bag, and the contents was in a brick shape with a red string tied around it holding it in its rectangular shape. He held it up to his nose and sniffed it. Inhaling its delicate yet powerful aroma, and looking off dreamily, as he enjoyed the smell of it. He handed it to Tommy and said, "This is the last stash I’m fronting you.” Tommy put it under his jacket, zipped it up, thanked Suds, and walked down the steps, toward the steel hallway, I followed quickly behind him, and we headed toward the train. All the while I was saying to myself, “I don’t ever want to have to come here again.”
When we got on the train, Tommy told me to check the other nearby train cars and see if I know anyone on there that may want to buy some pot. I looked in the car ahead, and didn’t recognize anyone. Then I checked the rear car and saw Stewart riding by himself. I walked up to him with a big, glad to see a familiar face, smile. I sat next to him smiled and whispered, “Interested in buying any pot?” Stewart punched me in the chest and said, “I’m selling weed for Jerry, and if he finds out your selling weed too, he’s gonna beat the crap out of you.” The punk young kid I was becoming, didn’t take this threat very seriously, and said to Stewart, “Yeah, I dare him to come near me.” I went back and sat with Tommy and told him I didn’t recognize anyone on the train. Tommy handed me a bag of pot and told me I could make some good extra money by selling joints to kids I know that smoke pot.
The next day we met in the boy’s bathroom at school and Tommy taught me how to roll joints, and pack them in a bag to sell. The last thing Tommy said to me as he left the bathroom was, “Don’t get caught.” I vowed not to, and if I were going to get caught I’d swallow the evidence. As I was opening the door to leave the bathroom, I met Jerry who was just coming in. He pushed me back into the bathroom, and started shouting at me about breaking into his territory. I kicked him hard between the legs and he went down to the floor gagging. I ran out as fast as I could, because I knew Jerry was mad and wanted to hurt me. The next few days I skipped going to school, because I knew Jerry would be looking for me.
One night at the dinner table my mother told me she received a call at work from the school principal asking why I wasn’t in school all last week, and the first 2 days of this week, and I was in danger of failing school. I told her that a kid in school was threatening to hurt me. My mother asked if I was planning to stay out of school forever. I didn’t think of it that way. But she was right. I have to confront this problem. head on, so I thought.
The next day I went into my garage and found a short wooden club that I could insert in the sleeve of my jacket and walk to school. I actually went looking for Jerry. As I approached the walk way toward the back of the school playground area, Jerry came running at me full-speed. I saw him coming, I took 1 step forward, let the club slip out of the sleeve of my jacket, and took one hard swing like a batter playing baseball. I hit Jerry so hard in the face his teeth flew out in all directions; a huge splatter of blood smeared his jacket and the grass. Jerry lay on his back not moving, with blood pouring out of his mouth. Before I knew it, the whole area was surrounded with people. I just stood there looking at Jerry, who was not moving at all.
The next thing I knew I was being grabbed by a police officer, and being shoved in the back seat of the police car. Handcuffs, arrested, the whole thing. As we pulled away I saw the ambulance pull up to take Jerry to the hospital. Here I am sitting in the police station in front of the whole collection of police officers on the phone, filing and looking at me. A skinny young desk officer looked at me and said, ”Kid you sit right there, we called your mother at work and she’s coming right down here.” I was too nervous and scared to ask about Jerry. All I knew is I was sitting here with 35 joints in my sock and I’m about to get busted. I asked if I could get up to go to the bathroom, and a red faced angry-looking desk sergeant shouted, ”You aint movin from that spot till your mother gets here.”
I held it in for what seemed like hours, when my mother angrily walked in the front door. She approached me and I shouted “Mommy!” relieved to see her, but she gave me a quick smack in the mouth and said, “Don’t talk to me.” The shock was so overwhelming I couldn’t hold it back anymore and wet my pants. I asked if I could go to the bathroom now.
The desk sergeant came over and made sure my handcuffs were still on securely, grabbed my left elbow and escorted me to the bathroom. I was wondering, how I am going to be able to flush this pot down the toilet with handcuffs on. It didn’t really matter, because the sergeant came into the bathroom with me. He put on a nauseating expression as he unbuckled my belt and opened my pants for me and saw I had already wet myself. He angrily pulled my pants up gain and escorted me out of the bathroom back to my seat on the bench by the hot radiator and the front window. I felt like I was on display to show all the kids in the neighborhood what could happen to them if they don’t watch themselves. I was glad it was a tinted glass because I think I saw Stewart out there, and would really have laughed at me if he saw me sitting there.
My mother was in the office talking to the police chief until dark. When she came out her face was white with worry, and the red faced sergeant opened my handcuffs and my mother coldly ordered me to follow her to the car. As we walked out to the parking lot, I tried to explain that I was only trying to protect myself from Jerry. All she kept saying was, “I had to lose half a days pay for this!” When we got home she sat up all night talking to me about the bad kids I have for friends and that I need to get some new friends. I told her none of the other kids want to have anything to do with me, no one would be my friend except for Stewart and Tommy. My mother was trying to encourage me to join a baseball or basketball team at school. I know she meant well, but I’m just not the athletic type. I’m slow and a little overweight, but I knew she was right about needing new friends, but where? The other kids around here don’t want to hang out with kids like me.
One day at school, I got called down to the principal’s office, to go see Mr. Wilson, the school board superintendent instead of the principal, Mr Adams. Mr. Wilson said I was in danger of failing and having to repeat 6th grade again. He has an idea that might keep me from failing. A program the school is starting called “Hooked On Fishing Not On Drugs” Mr. Wilson’s face lit up and got very excited when he spoke about the program, he said ”It’s a comprehensive program divided into (20) 1-hour lessons that teach core curriculum like Art, Health, Ecology, Biology, Physical education, and life skills like ethics, social interaction and self-confidence. An instructor from the Hooked On Fishing Not On Drugs New Jersey that will come and take you and any of the other children involved in the program out to some of our local lakes and have fishing contests.”
Of course I objected, and said, “Fishing! How boring can you get? I don’t wanna just sit there holding a stick with a worm on the end waiting for a fish to bite.” Mr. Wilson said this is my only chance of passing and I have to pass this course. So I figured this would be easy. And I agreed. The class doesn’t start for another week, in the meantime I was noticing signs posted on the school bulletin board and on the classroom doors that read “HOFNOD”. It seems every where I looked, I saw HOFNOD. I actually caught myself saying it “HOFNOD” what a stupid word, but it got stuck in my head and was bothering me. What does that mean? I looked it up in the dictionary, no such word. I looked on Google, and found it was Hooked On Fishing Not On Drugs. I mumbled to myself, ”how stupid”…
Monday morning my homeroom teacher told me to go to the gym for my first period class. I thought, “cool I like gym better than my 1st period English Literature. I got there and there were only about 25 fellow students, none were from my 1st period class, and I knew something was up. I even saw Stewart sitting on the gym floor with the rest of us. In the middle of the gym was a table and the gym teacher,Mr. Pachland, who introduced himself and filled a large bowl with goldfish crackers, passed the bowl out and said to us, “Go ahead and take as many as you want and pass the bowl around.” By the time the bowl got back Mr. Pachland, it was empty. Then he asked the last kid who had the bowl, “Did you get as many as you wanted?” The kid answered, “There was only 3 left.” Mr. Pachland said,” OK now here is you first lesson, conservation. Suppose this bowl was your local lake and you took as many fish as you wanted. First, the lake would be empty, and your fellow sportsmen wouldn’t catch anything. You want to always be conscious of how your actions will affect others down stream.”
Than he held up a plastic can holder for a 6-pack of beer, and asked, “Where do you think this would end up if you threw it on the street?” Everybody just sat and listened. Mr. Pachland said, "The first rain would wash this into the river, and look at these small can loops. Just big enough to trap a nice sized trout or bass, or a duck or goose could easily get their necks caught in this. Everything you throw on the ground ends up in the rivers. Our rivers are getting dramatically dirtier every year, from what they call run off. Run off is when rain washes sediments, fertilizers chemicals and all other things into the rivers.”
I was amazed to find out all these things about our water supply, and how everything we do affects our streams, and Mr. Pachland was so knowledgeable and animated while he explained the premises of conservation and ecology. I became so interested into learning, learning about the rivers and how threatened they are becoming. Every day was a different animated exercise we did with Mr. Pachland, and I could tell how interested he was in teaching it. One day he had rubber fish and he showed us how to roll ink on them and cover it with a white t shirt, and carefully press out every bubble and go along the fins and scales with your fingernail to capture the exact design of the fish around the eye, the fins and scales, the gills. The detail on this was astounding. We pulled the shirts up and we had an exact imprint of a fish. I did a trout. Other kids did bluegill, catfish, bass, carp, one kid had a shark.
I was enjoying this class and my mother would listen intently while I told her about the things I was doing in HOFNOD class. I was on time to class every day, and didn’t want to miss a single lesson. One day at class Mr. Pachland laid ten plastic fish on the gym floor and gave each of us a fishing pole with a plastic sinker on it. He taught us how to cast the line so the sinker would land right next to the fish we wanted to catch. It took some of us many tries to get it, but I got it after my 3rd try. The sinker landed just past the fish I wanted to get, and I reeled it in slowly, so the sinker would wedge itself in the fishes gill plate allowing me to pull it in. It was only a 4 pointer; I had to try again to get up to 10 points.
I actually started to like going to school. Mr. Pachland said he was surprised to see I didn’t miss a single day for the whole semester. I told him I was having fun learning about fishing in his class. He said, “If you like that wait till you see what’s coming up at the end of the marking period, the end of April.” I asked what and he said not to worry it’s a good surprise.
The end of the marking period was this week I couldn’t wait to find out what the surprise would be. I know I’m getting good grades, but that’s not the surprise Mr. Pachland was talking about. I rushed to school that morning figuring, something’s gotta be up by now, it’s April 28. I walked into gym, and Mr. Pachland was standing in the gym in the center of the floor next to a tall man, wearing sunglasses, in a green uniform, that had a badge on it, and a wide-brimmed brown hat with a badge on the front. I well knew he was not a police officer, because the patch on his shoulder said, Hooked On Fishing Not On Drugs. He stepped forward and made it look like he was counting heads. He said, “Three, four. ‘What? Only 4 girls in this class. That’s OK because the girls are better fishermen than the boys sometimes.” Us boys shouted in unison, ”No Way! Boys Rule” The instructor said, “All right, it looks like we got a competition going here!”
The instructor let out a loud whistle to quiet down all the shouting the boys were doing to the girls and the girls, although outnumbered, were shouting back at the boys with just as much volume. The instructor stepped forward and said, ”Hi, my name is Mr. Breitweiser, I'm a certified instructor from Hooked on Fishing Not On Drugs New Jersey. We will be having a fishing tournament tomorrow at Sunrise Lake. You don’t have to bring anything, except yourselves, we will supply all the fishing gear, bait, and even the lunches and drinks. If you have hats and sunglasses bring them, the ones we have may not fit everyone. We’ll be giving the winners some free fishing gear and lots of special awards. I need everyone to fill out this permission form and have your parents sign it, and bring it in with you. And also if any of you want your parents to come and fish with you, they can.”
After that Mr. Breitweiser went through the rest of the lesson explaining that catching fish is just like hunting. You have to sneak up on the fish, you have to find the places they’re hiding, how to present the bait and hook them. He also taught us how to cook and clean the fish. He showed us pictures of rivers and lakes and showed us how to read the water to determine where fish are hiding. I rushed home that day excited to tell my mother about the fishing trip I was going on tomorrow at school. When she walked in the door, I ran up to her with the permission slip in hand and before I even said hello. I showed the paper to her and asked her to sign it.” She said, “Wait let me get home from work first.” She read it over and said she never saw me so excited about something before, “Of course I’ll sign it.”
I couldn’t sleep that night because I was so excited about the next day. I woke up before my alarm went off. I was showered, ate breakfast and was all ready to leave for school before my mother left for work. Here I am patiently sitting at the breakfast table, waiting to go to school. My mother walked by and asked, “What are you doing up so early? I know, the big fishing contest, I’m sorry I can’t go with you. I have to go to work, but here, take this camera, I want to see pictures of your trip.”
She handed me a disposable Kodak camera. I was dreaming of a picture of me holding up the winning trout that was almost as big as me. Darn I’m sitting around waiting to go, but it seems so long I have to wait. I usually leave at a quarter to eight but I can go at seven thirty, I’ll just walk slowly. I locked the door and out I went, just looking at the bright sunshine that filled my smiling face, and the smells of the flowers and trees and the air pumping with life.
I arrived at school a little early, but I stood there watching the school buses line up to take us to Sunshine Lake. The first one I saw was Mr. Breitweiser pulling up in his truck full of new fishing gear, and a big cooler full of sandwiches and drinks. Everyone showed up. Some of the kids had parents with them. We lined up at the several buses and there was so much excitement in the air, it made me laugh for no reason. Then I started talking to a boy behind me, named Bobby. He was in 7th grade and a lot taller than me. It made me feel better because, he brought his father with him, and I was big enough not to need a parent. Bobby was a nice kid. We talked all about fishing and what we think we’re going to catch.
Everyone boarded their buses, parents too. And it was off to Sunshine Lake. As the bus pulled off the road onto a dirt road going up the hill, I could see how Sunshine Lake got its name. The Morning sun gleams off the surface of the lake like a giant mirror. Its funny that I passed this lake many times before, but never noticed this. I guess your sense of perception changes when your activities change. The busses came to a stop and we all jumped out yelling and Hooting in excited voices.
We fished all day. Everybody caught something. It was the first week after the New Jersey Division of Fish & Wildlife stocked the lake. And I made a new best friend, Bobby. I met lot of other nice kids at the fishing derby. I kept in touch with all of them in my school.
This is how fishing saved my life! It made me feel so great that I was accepted by a whole new group of friends. And I met their friends. Bobby and his father would drive to my house and we’d go on fishing trips. I tried to convince my mother to come with us, and as soon as she met Bobby’s father and he asked her to come, she couldn’t say no. Now we go fishing almost every weekend, instead of getting in trouble with those losers I used to hang out with. I tell Bobby he’s like a brother to me. And if his father and my mother get to know each other any better, we may really become brothers.
I think of this every time I see the proud picture of me holding a winning 17” Rainbow Trout, my mother taped on the refrigerator door. I’m definitely Hooked on fishing, that smile says it all.
HOFNOD RECOGNITION AND AWARDS
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HOFNOD RECEIVED RECOGNITION & AWARDS FOR THE FOLLOWING:
- US Department of Justice Award for Public Service
- Renew America's Award for Environmental Sustainability
- Award of excellence from the American Society of Association Executives in the Advance America Awards Program
- American School Board Journal & Executive Educator's selection as one of 100 most creative educational ideas in North America
- Certificate of Commendation from US Dept. of Interior to recognize outstanding service to youth and education system of America
