First Falcon
In the basement of the Kamm family cottage there hang about 20 fishing poles. The only time many of them get a glimpse of the water is when the pipes are sweating in the heat of summer. But those that do get used, occasionally need to be fixed and maintained, so that a couple of weekends a year, someone can attempt to make their fishing license worth the cost. Cue my dad, fixer of all things broken. This time it was the reel on one of those poles that needed attention, something wasn’t quite right with it. The line was not keeping itself in neat order upon reeling in, instead it balled up, creating a nightmarish spiderweb within the reel housing. I’m not going to say that I’m inept or that the skills of my father have skipped a generation, but I will say that at that age I lacked the patience or understanding to fix something like that, along with many other things. It was late afternoon when the reel was put back together, ready to be put to the test. The vacant lot next to the cott...