
Ah, April and
May. Been a beautiful Spring in Tennessee. Sitting
here looking out from the front porch of our old farm house to the
creek running clear and fast on its way to the Cumberland River about 5
miles down the road here in Sumner County. The water in
the Lakes and Rivers has warmed up and the fish are biting so you don’t
find me on the front porch too much this time of year, I’m usually on
the water, somewhere in Tennessee or Kentucky searching for the mighty
bass….smallmouth and largemouth. Or, later on in the
summer, you can find me in Wisconsin, camping on the banks
of the Upper Mississippi, and in hot pursuit of Northern Pike, Walleye
and, once again, small and large mouth bass. I just barely
make it through Winter, when it’s too cold to fish,
watching the water temperature as Spring finally arrives and I can get
back to the important things in life; fishing and enjoying a good
bologna sandwich on fresh white bread while sitting in my boat. I’ve
got two sons, Stan Junior and Scott, that have inherited the love of
fishing from me along with a couple of grandsons, Kahner and Josh, so
the tradition of the Hitchcock Fishing Adventure will be
carried on long after I have gone to the Home of the Great Fisherman in
Glory.
I have always believed that
Jesus, in His time on Earth, liked to surround Himself with fishermen.
It was no accident that, as He was being pressed by the
multitude, He walked along the shores of Lake Gennesaret,
saw a fishing boat and fishermen washing their nets, and approaching
Simon Peter and climbing into his boat, asked Simon Peter
to take him out from the shore so He could speak and teach to the
multitude. Jesus then directed Simon Peter,
along with his fishing partners James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who
had been fishing all night and caught nothing, to cast there nets in a
certain place, and they followed His directions and pulled
up their nets so full of fish that the nets were breaking. Now
that is the way to a fisherman’s heart and soul. It was
also the way that Jesus chose to call Peter, James and John as His first
Disciples. There is no doubt in my mind that Jesus loved
fishermen! Jesus turned to Peter and said, “Do not be
afraid, from now on you will catch men.” (Luke 5:1-11 New Kings James).
Let’s think about the special attitudes and
qualities of fishermen as it relates to the “fishing of men.” Seems
to me like the Lord was saying the same traits of a good fisherman
works with a fisher of men. First of all, a good fisherman
or fisherwoman must love the sport with all their heart and soul.
You must have the patience of Job, the creativity of a David,
the perseverance and dedication of Abraham, the love of
the outdoors and physical adventure of John the Baptist (who ate locust
and wild honey, where I prefer bologna sandwich on white bread, and I
wear Wranglers instead of animal skins with the hair still on, I prefer
the animal skins on my boots) but, back to the subject…so, you have
patience, creativity, perserverance, dedication, love of physical
activity, love of locust, wild honey or bologna (any of those three
should work) and, most importantly, have a large amount of faith to
throw your net, or lure, where God tells you.
I had the great privilege to fish,
several times, with the legendary small mouth fisherman Billy
Westmoreland. Billy was the greatest small mouth fisherman
in the world and one of my dear friends. Billy grew up
and lived all his life on the banks of Dale Hollow Lake in Northern
Middle Tennessee. He called me, over the Thanksgiving
holidays in 1996, and invited me up to Celina, Tennessee
where he lived, to fish with him on Dale Hollow Lake. It
was one of the most amazing feats of fishing ability I have ever seen.
I had fished with Billy before in several locations in Canada,
but those were in bodies of water that he was not familiar with, and we
still caught great amounts of smallmouth. However, I was
to see the true artist of Billy Westmoreland, in action on his home
lake. We got on the lake early that morning and Billy
pointed the boat upstream for several miles. He pulled the
boat over to an area that, to me, looked just like all the other shore
lines. It was a sandy, gravel shore that ran out a good
ways into the Lake as an 8 foot flat with weedy bottom. Billy
eased the boat in with the trolling motor and settled about 20 foot out
from the shore. He told me to tie on a small plastic grub
and then he directed me exactly where to cast the lure. I
cast out, let it settle to the bottom and started to gently pick it up
when the rod almost jerked out of my hands. It was a five
pound smally and it was a great feeling as I held him in my hands and
slowly placed him back in the water. Next cast, with Billy
telling me exactly where to cast, same result! I know you
old fishermen out there think this is another fish tale, but it is
absolutely what happened. We caught about 5 big smallmouth
in that spot and then Billy moved on to another. Same
amazing thing happened. Billy would point to the spot.
I would cast and WHAM! Another smallmouth. This
continued for the next four hours, then a squall line
came through, the wind got dangerous, and we had to head back to the
dock. Billy had the gift and power of fish discernment,
all I had to be was obedient and cast where he showed me. Just
like Peter, James and John had to throw their net where Jesus said.
It is a simple example, but I have thought about it many times
since. This is true for living in Christian faith. I
believe every life has a purpose and God is in control. My
mistake is often trying to run ahead of God’s plan, as if to say, “Ok,
God, I can take it from here.” Every time I let self take
over and take my eyes off Jesus Christ for direction, I fall on my face.
After all these years of mountains and valleys, I’ve finally reached the point of submission and total trust in His way. I am a pretty good fisherman, but not so good a fisher of man. It’s taken me a long time to realize that everyone is not gifted as a great witness, but everyone, with an ounce of faith, can let our lives be our witness.
My entertainment and television ventures have given me a platform to touch people with music and programming. I believe that good, clean entertainment for the families can be a blessing and should be pursued in this troubled day and age. I gladly share the story of what a walk with Jesus can mean to a persons life., and how, even when we slip away, He is good to take us back and love us mistakes and all.
I have been so blessed to be able to spend these 51 years in music and entertainment. Even when I got off track, God would pull me back to His path. Every morning of seeing the sunrise, or sitting looking down on the creek in its journey to the Cumberland, I thank God for my life as a husband, father, musician, singer, television man, author, songwriter, fisherman and front porch sitter.
I am thankful for a father who taught me integrity and honesty, and a mother who taught me that Jesus loves me, to love music and the love to take off and go fishing on a moments whim. My earliest memories of Mama and I was headin’ to the creek or some lake, close by our farm in the Ozarks, and bank fishing for anything she could catch. Yes, bank fishing cause she was scared of boats but loved to take some worms or crickets and fish from the bank. Good, God fearin’ Mama and Daddy, who raised me up right to follow Jesus, and though I strayed many times, what they taught me, early on, always made me return to Him.
So, I’m sitting here on the front porch, watching the creek run on down to the Cumberland, and thinking, “Man, what’er you doin’ sittin’ here when there is fish to be caught, played with for awhile, then released back into the water to swim free again?” Uh, listen friends, I gotta go see a man about a fish! Thanks for stopping by.
By the way, thanks to all of you who have bought my book, “At The Corner Of Music Row, And Memory Lane”, and wrote to tell me your thoughts about it. And the ones who have ordered my new cd release, “Roads I’ve Traveled, Songs I’ve Sung.” I really appreciate y’all remembering this old hillbilly singer.
God Bless Us all,
Stan