Like I said sometimes luck just comes knocking at your door or floating on the lake, as the case may be. Well that ole catfish pulled that boat and Millwood and grandpa right over to the shallow part of the lake and Millwood took the notion to jump on it and ride it down like a rodeo bull. And he did; and that fish commenced to bucking and rolling and dipping, but Millwood hung on somehow, so it's been told. Grandpa was having trouble keeping the boat afloat, but he managed to give one heck of a slam to the head of the catfish with one of the oars. We never knew if the fish just give out or the blow was in some real delicate area or whatever, but the fish rolled over on it's back and Millwood and grandpa towed it to the homeside of the lake and beached it. Word is it fed more'n half the town.
There was a writeup in the Harper Bee about the catching of the big catfish in which Millwood was asked if he had ever done any rodeo work. "Naw," he replied. "I just seen it in a John Wayne picture show down at the Palace Theater."
I don't think we got any catfish in the lake now and nobody ever knew where that one come from, because, to the best of anybody's knowledge, it was the one and only catfish ever caught in Harper Lake.
Hollis recommends: Harvey Lee has a cousin in Atlanta. He is in a creative writing class and two of his fellow writers have recently published books, as the sycamore grows by Jennie Miller Helderman and Redeeming the Wounded by B. Bruce Cook. It would be nice if you would find out more about these books
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