I watched the red and white bobber indicator as the current carried it down the stream when suddenly the indicator ducked under the surface and I stru...k to set the hook. Rod in one hand and landing net in the other I guided the fine three pound largemouth bass into the net and lifted it up the bank and minutes later it was swimming free chained to my metal stringer awaiting more “finny customers”. Within a few hours I had half a dozen other fish on the stringer and decided to break for lunch so. Robert’s story really begins in the fall of 1880 when he was attending a one-room school six miles from his home. 19 students of varied ages attended the school, taught by 20-year old Constance Harper. Robert had grown into a lanky, quick, and intelligent boy, well liked and looked upon as a leader by the other children. His older sisters had married by the time they were 15 and his brother, Stuart, never had much use for learning, so he had dropped out after sixth grade. But Robert loved. The three youngsters busied themselves, making a crude shelter that they hoped would stave off the worst of the night fliers.Having seen no sign of any other intelligent life, be it drog, or otherwise, they had decided that it would be safe to kindle a smoky fire. They sat in the cloud of smoke, and it did keep the worst of the insects away. Then, depending on the growing darkness to continue concealing the smoke, they kindled a second smudge, and passed an uneventful, if not a restful, night. I pick up the phone and see the name mom on the screen."Hi mom," I say as I answer the phone."Hi, sweetie," a voice responds that wasn't my mom's."Who is this?" I ask confused."It's your mother," the voice responds.The woman's voice sounds familiar, but it is definitely not my mother.I look at the screen once again and notice the picture of the woman.The woman in the picture is Mrs. Thompson."Oh, sorry mom," I say, "I guess I'm still a little tired." That's OK, baby," she replies, "Your father.