Generations
When I saw this statue, I knew just what they were saying.
A bronze statue evokes memories of fishing with Grandpa.
Imay have been a tomboy, but that didn’t concern me. It seemed that boys had the most fun, so when Grandpa Harley was willing to teach me to fish, I jumped on it. Nothing was more thrilling than seeing Grandpa’s gray Ford coming down the lane. He would open the trunk, and I would stretch on tiptoes to grab the red coffee can filled with freshly dug earthworms.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” He would grin from beneath his black-billed postman’s cap as I took off running for my cane pole and small green tackle box.
The Elkhorn River wound its way along the edge of our farm south of Osmond, Nebraska. Its dark, murky waters were a haven for bullheads and carp. As Grandpa walked and I skipped through the thistle patch to the river, he would place his hand on my shoulder and caution me, “Now, we don’t want to scare those fish away, so we’ll need to sit quietly.” That was OK— just being with Grandpa was good enough for me.
Fishing has been in my blood ever since. When my husband and I retired to Spearfish, South Dakota, I couldn’t wait to check out the nearby lakes. I also made a point to visit the D.C. Booth Historic National Fish Hatchery and Archives—one of the oldest in the nation. There are many things of interest at the free attraction, including 20,000 to 30,000 trout, several species of ducks, a replica of a rail car used to transport fish, the National Von Bayer Museum of Fish Culture, as well as the home of the hatchery’s first superintendent.
But one exhibit stands out to me more than any other. A bronze sculpture near the center of the grounds is that of a young girl and a man walking to their favorite fishing hole. She is carrying a bait bucket while he holds two cane poles. With his hand encircling her shoulder and the two of them engaged in pleasant conversation, I feel the warmth of their special relationship. I am once again a young girl walking with Grandpa.
At the base of the sculpture, a plaque reads “Generations” and names the sculptor as James Michael Maher. I sent the artist a note telling him why this is my favorite sculpture. He wrote back and admitted that it is one of his favorites as well, explaining that his father and oldest daughter, Katie, were the models for it (art imitating a real-life grandfather and granddaughter). I told Mr. Maher what I thought the man was saying to his granddaughter: “Now, we don’t want to scare those fish away, so we’ll need to sit quietly.”