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My
friend and fellow rod builder, Dave Lewis, suggested that I include a
little about myself, my likes, dislikes, background and adventures in a
gallery. He believes it gives people a better insight into a rod
maker.
So here's a little about me. As I said, I've been a fly fisher
almost all my life. I was born and raised in the little town of
Mountain Grove, Mo, high on the Ozark Plateau. Where I grew up
waters flowed north, south, and east. I enjoyed fishing
those waters, though at the time I didn't know, how much.
Today, I live in Florida. There is rumored to be one trout stream
in the state, on a private estate, owned by a doctor. How true it
is, I don't know, but Florida has many springs that could probably
support some of the more hearty salmonidae for a few miles from their
head. However, we're known for saltwater fly fishing and
bass and pan fish. I call Alligator Lake my home waters
now.
Here's an essay on a typical days fishing.
Then there's the recent trip I took with Don Manning. This page has quite a bit of "fish pictures," so if you're not into that it might be better to let it go. |
Occasionally I go back to hill country, and chase the fish of my
youth. Largemouth, small mouth, sunfish and yes,
trout. The last few adventures were in North Carolina. |
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 Another place that I see a lot of is Sunrise
lake in the edge of the Ocala National Forest. My wife and I
were introduced to it and the cabin next to it, by a friend.
Years later we still rent the cabin. |
Marge's sister lives in Mt. Airy, MD. Over the years, we've
made several trip up to visit with George and Phyllis. On one
occasion I got to eat Christmas dinner with Santa. But that's
another story.
In the spring of 2007, Marge and I took the auto train from Orlando to just south of Washington, D.C. for an extended visit.
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 I'd made arrangements to fish with some fellow rod makers. Little did we know that we'd end up looking like the cover of a Feb. fly fishing magazine.
(caution, contains pictures of dogs and cats living together.)
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On 24
October, 2007, my brother-in-law, George Roberts, died. I
first knew George as my sister-in-law's husband. The two of them
lived Silver Springs, MD. They later moved to Mt. Airy, MD.
Over the years, as we visited, I learned that he had been a WWII
vet. In fact he'd gone ashore on Omaha beach the afternoon of
D-Day.
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 George
had made arrangements to be buried at Arlington National
Cemetery. Marge and I attended the services. Here's my recollections of that day.
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People ask me if I had a shop cat. Well, here he is.
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 He's a stray that just showed up.
his name is Scruffy.
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Sometimes I see something that's just too nice to pass up.
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