Erva Willamette Howell doing what she loved the most!

I asked my daughter Debbie a strange question recently…I knew there was really no answer to my question, then again…I already knew the answer.  I guess I was just thinking out loud about something that was bothering me. The question was: “What eventually happens to a person’s most personal possessions…the little keepsakes that meant so much to them during their lifetime…not the big stuff like family heirlooms, but the small trinkets that meant something to only them?”

This question really started haunting me a couple of years ago when I was frequenting the local Goodwill store to search for various styles and sizes of picture frames to use for my second hobby…metal punch. As I was sifting through the many frames on my store visits, I would occasionally run across some with old family photographs. I can’t understand how people can donate such items without removing the photos. One time I found a framed romantic card and taped to the back of it was an old love letter. This had to be very special to someone, sometime…somewhere.

If you are reading this article, you have more than likely read other articles I have written on ebassfish.com. You probably also know that I will almost always mention my mother when I talk about fishing. The “e” in ebassfish.com  is my mother’s initial and the website was dedicated to her by my sister Denese and myself when we launched it in September of 2005. This is kind of bittersweet, since our mother was totally against computers and said that a computer would never be allowed in her home.

Our mother died on February 23^rd, 2004 at the age of 84. She never got to see her oldest daughter and her youngest daughter compete in bass tournaments together and know the joy that it gives us. We enjoyed our many fishing trips with her while she was still able to fish. As our mother aged, she became house-bound and eventually bed-ridden before her death. She would often talk about fishing and how she wished she could go “just one more time”.

Since our mother’s death, I have made several trips home to Hooks, Texas to visit our Dad who just turned 88. Each time I visit, he has my sisters and I to go through more of our mother’s belongings. Daddy is losing his eye-site and he suffers from dementia so we do this out of concern that he could throw away something important: not just her things but his also. He calls me often in North Carolina from Texas to ask me if I have seen his favorite tie or his old Navy boatswains whistle or the American flag he received when he was discharged from the Navy. He misplaces many items and I always assure him when he calls that they are there somewhere and when I come for my next visit I will help him find these pieces of his past that still mean so much to him. Meanwhile, in the process of going through the remainder of Mama’s belongings, I have ended up with a small cardboard box of what was apparently her most prized possessions, including a handful of trinkets that once belonged to her mother, who died of pneumonia when Mama was only 5 years old.

I have spent hours in recent weeks sorting through this box. Some of the contents are familiar to me while others are full of surprises; like the letters my mom and dad wrote to each other in 1948 and 1949 while my dad was in a VA hospital with back problems. I was mentioned in those letters numerous times. I was a small baby then and according to my mom’s letters, I was a Daddy’s girl.  In some ways, I am seeing my mother for the first time…the things she cherished…the things that meant enough for her to keep “forever”. I am learning about a part of her life and mine that I was too young to remember. It is sad to me that her 84 years of life can now fit into one small cardboard box.

I found two things in that box that linked her fishing legacy to my sister and I and our love of fishing. Tucked away among photos of her children in an old plastic photo holder like you find in a wallet was a small clipping cut from the local county newspaper where I grew up. It read: 2 ½ -Pound Black Bass Caught At Bassett Creek – Mrs. W. W. Howell was in the News office Thursday to show evidence of her prowess as a fisherman or fisherwoman. As evidence of her skill she had as proof a beautiful black bass which tipped the scale at slightly more than two pounds, caught in Bassett’s Creek. The fish was caught with rod and reel but with a tiny hook, according to Mrs. Howell. Mrs. Howell was accompanied on her fishing trip by Mrs. Lee Steward, also of Hooks.

I wish the article had been dated because I do not remember when this event occurred in my mother’s life. I can only think how proud she must have been, catching that fish. This small newspaper clipping is now an item I will add to my “keepsakes” along with another special item I found.

I have felt bad in recent years that as many times as our mother took us fishing as children, we have no photos of her fishing. She was the one with the camera who was always taking the pictures. I did vaguely remember one photo of her holding up a small sun-perch. I have been searching for that photo for months! As I was flipping through a handful of photos inside the small box, I found it! You would have thought I had found a million dollars!

Now, I feel re-connected to her in a special way and hope she is smiling down with pride, knowing that my sisters and I continue her fishing legacy and keep her memory alive through my writings and our memories of her teaching us about fishing and her love of the outdoors. It was the only time I truly remember her being happy and at ease…that’s funny…seems like I am now describing myself. I only hope that when my “life” ends up as the contents of a small box in my children’s possession that they find some connection that keeps my memory alive and that “my special stuff” doesn’t end up in the donation box at Goodwill or in the landfill.  One thing is for certain, they will have lots of photos and articles of my fishing life to sort through. I have definitely seen to that!

Maybe I will start now and put all my keepsakes along with my mother’s memorabilia in a tackle box for safe keeping, in hopes that someday, my grandson or whoever carries on my fishing legacy will find it in a closet and toss it in their truck as they head for their favorite lake or pond. It will be a time capsule and a way for my mom and I to go fishing “one more time”. I should probably include some of my favorite lures…just in case!

For now, I am just glad I found the one photo of my mother holding a fish in May of 1982…it is priceless to me!