As kids, our dad infected us with a love for fishing. We fished the mighty Etowah, and frequently trekked into the mountains to fish for trout. The only day in my life that I deliberately ditched school was opening day of trout season 1968, my senior year at Cherokee High.
One of our favorite fishing places was the Canton Golf Course, which has a lovely mid-size creek flowing through its center. My next younger brother and I worked at Canton Swimming Pool right by the Golf Course, so we saw that creek almost every day of the summer.
We enjoyed fishing for catfish at night, and knew that the Golf Course creek would be a safe and productive place to fish. One Saturday night we decided to go fish the upper bridge of the Golf Course. It was 11 PM and since the Golf Course and Swimming Pool lots were cordoned off at night, we parked in the end of a long driveway of one of the homes on the west side of the road that led to the creek from Cumming Highway. After all, we reasoned, no one would be out after 11 PM in Canton, GA!
We parked, got our gear, and headed for the creek. We caught several fish and had a great time. A bit after midnight we headed back to the car. When we got to that driveway, our car was gone! The home owners had gotten home shortly after we parked, and unable to get into their own driveway had called Canton Police who impounded our vehicle.
The next day, we learned that it would cost us $25 to retrieve our car from the police impound. And, because of our Dad's love for fishing, our mistake was fully understood. He didn't even make us pay the impound fee.
Obviously we learned a lot from that fishing trip, and none of it involved fish.
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