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    The Trout Pond
    The Trout Pond
    The Trout Pond
    Ebook228 pages3 hours

    The Trout Pond

    By Hubert Crowell

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    About this ebook

    Some of the events are based on true stories that occurred during 1950 and 1951. Details and most of the names are fictional. The Author, only nine years old at the time, going fishing with his Grandfather at the Trout Pond, and seeing him at the small gas station, searching for memories of 65 years ago. He remember his Grandmother better and spent a lot of time climbing the trees in her front yard and attending the family reunions. He witnessed the burned out railroad bridge and played ball in a field on that side of town. He had a box containing a few items from their lives, Grandmothers’ purse with receipts from the funeral home and a lot of rent receipts for the amount of seven dollars, He couldn’t image they rented a house for that amount, must have been for something else. Broken hand hair clippers, rifle shells, a match box full of sassafras roots, and several other items he used in the pictures. He could not recall Grandfather’s funeral, but did remember touching his Grandmother’s hand at her funeral.
    Writing The Trout Pond has brought back good memories of a happy childhood and the time spent with his grandparents. He did recall building an igloo, and having a lot of fun in the snow during the winter of 1950-1951, one of the hardest storms to hit the southeast in history. He now wonders if his Grandfather’s death only a few days after the storm that took 25 lives, could have resulted in his death also.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHubert Crowell
    Release dateJul 9, 2019
    ISBN9780463115541
    The Trout Pond
    Author

    Hubert Crowell

    Hubert Crowell currently writes, explores caves, plays the fiddle and works three days a week. He has in the past panned for gold, served in the army, repaired TV's, microfilm equipment, video projectors, and other electronic devices. He has taught classes at Vocational School, Eastman Kodak and Church. He has worked at Lockheed, Kodak, BARCO, and RCA to mention only a few. Studied at Southeastern University, Kennesaw University, and Chattahoochee Technical College. Hubert's articles, poems, and music can be found at http://hucosystems.com/hubertcrowell/hubertcrowell.html

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      Book preview

      The Trout Pond - Hubert Crowell

      The Trout Pond

      Smashwords Edition License Notes

      This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Copyright © 2016 Hubert Crowell

      ISBN: 9780463115541

      Publisher: Smashwords, Inc.

      56789

      ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

      My thanks to the National Novel Writing Month for encouragement with my first full length novel, 50,000 + words in 27 days. My grandfather for taking me fly fishing on a small pond. Providence Kentucky for giving me a safe place to grow up. All my friends and family that made Providence such a great town.

      DEDICATION

      This book is dedicated to the Coal Miners of Kentucky.

      Chapter 1 THE TROUT POND

      Friday, November 3, 1950.

      James Crowell picked up his fly rod, and hat. He kissed his wife Allie bye, turned up his collar to face a cool morning breeze out of the northwest, and headed to his favorite fishing hole. He walked a mile down the gravel road to the paved highway and across the grassy ball field to a swamp, where beavers had built a long dam creating a tree filled pond. He liked to get there before the sun came up, the best time to fish, because in the early morning hours the fish searched for bugs swimming on the surface of the pond. Jim hoped to catch enough for breakfast. Allie would have her morning chores done and biscuits would be ready by the time he returned.

      The shallow edges of the pond allowed Jim to wade out about twenty feet in the waders he kept under a bucket on the bank. Zip, zip went the line as he placed the fly on the exact spot where the fish created a ripple on the surface of the water. He loved the outdoors and the time spent on the pond fishing. He liked to watch all the wildlife, especially a large eagle that would sometimes beat him to the fish and steal his breakfast.

      The day at the pond started out like any other day, quiet except for fish he heard jumping from the water and a hawk raising a ruckus in the trees.

      In one hour, Jim had his bag half full of fish and decided to head home. Suddenly he slipped on an underwater log, falling, and hitting his shoulder on an adjacent log. Jim slowly pulled himself out of the water, and made his way through the mud to the shore. His shoulder hurt, so he stretched out the bank to rest.

      Wet, cold, and in pain, he managed to change back into his walking shoes and start for home.

      In the fall of 1950, Ronald Smith, who liked to be called Ron, had a lot on his mind. Ron waded through mud and tall grass, until he reached the water. He threw the bundle hard far out into the water, not noticing the body floating in the pond. Thinking this would be the end of his problems, he returned to his job in the mine.

      Jim made it back to the porch, and laid down. Allie heard the thump on the porch and opened the door.

      Jim, are you OK?

      I may have broken my shoulder. I slipped and hit my shoulder on a log in the pond.

      Sit down while I call the doctor. You’re not going to try and go to the station, are you? As Allie began to prepare the fish.

      Maybe, just let me rest up awhile. The pain is letting up some…I just can’t move my shoulder.

      We’ll see what Doc Boyles says.

      Jim enjoyed the fish for breakfast and the pain gradually subsided.

      The doctor has just made a house call on this side of town and will stop by later this morning and take a look at that shoulder. Allie laid her hand on his shoulder and said a prayer.

      After eating the fish Allie had cooked, Jim settled in by the fire. The heat felt good on his shoulder as he turned his side toward the fireplace.

      Allie had just shoveled up the coal ashes and put a fresh lump of coal on the fire, when she heard the knock at the door.

      You sure got here in a hurry, she said as she let Doctor Boyles in.

      Happened to be on this side of town and finishing up my last call when you called the office. Good thing I checked in before heading back. Now what’s going on with that shoulder?

      I fell in the trout pond and hit a log. However my shoulder seems to be much better now.

      Well let me have a look. Raise your arm up. Now, this may hurt a little. I’m going to pull gently. Let me know if you feel anything.

      Ouch, that’s a relief. My shoulder feels like something moved.

      I think you’ll feel better now. Watch out for those slippery logs in the pond.

      Would you like some fresh fish? I have several Bass left?

      Allie, put some ice on those fish for the doc to take home. Jim turned to the doctor. What do I owe you?

      The fish will be payment enough. I’ll get a few gallons of gas from you next time I’m by the station.

      Allie packed Jim a lunch and he rode into town with the Doc. He filled his 1950 Hudson at the gas station.

      You know Doc, I believe that prayer Allie said over my shoulder sure worked, you coming by so soon and all.

      You’re right Jim. I always prescribe prayer as the best medicine. Try and be a little more careful wading around in that old pond. Have a good day and don’t work too late.

      Jim thought about the long walk home last week in the cold rain and getting hit on the head. He decided he’d close a little earlier this afternoon and walk by the trout pond again. Gasoline sales had slowed down more than usual for a Friday afternoon. Over the hill he passed by the Ice plant where Sam sat waiting for customers.

      Hey, Jim, you going fishing?

      Yeah, Sam, things are really slow at the station, I don’t expect anyone will want gas with the weekend starting.

      Same here, but I guess I’ll hang around a little longer. Hear you had some trouble last week along the tracks.

      I got my money back, and don’t think I’ll be walking that way home after dark again.

      What’s biting at the pond?

      Bluegill and Bass mostly, I caught four nice size ones this morning, so I thought I’d see what’s biting this evening. Put us down for another block of ice in the morning just in case I catch more than we can eat.

      Will do, I’ll be by around seven with the truck.

      The barber shop looked empty, so Jim decided to get a trim and shave for the weekend. Evening John, can I get a trim?

      You don’t see anyone else waiting for one, do you? Have a seat.

      Go easy on the back of the head, I still have a bump back there. When I passed the ice plant, I told Sam, that I won’t be walking along the tracks after dark again.

      Yea, I heard about you getting mugged last week. I’m sure glad you’re all right. Someone needs to clean up that stretch along the tracks.

      School must be letting out. Look at all the kids with their books. They’re growing up fast, I wonder how many of them will go to work at the mines? Jim commented.

      If they want to make good money, they will. I understand that Stoney Point Mine has started hiring.

      Yes, my son says they’ll be working around the clock until they get the coal out from under the river. They have to get the coal out fast, before the mine floods.

      There goes Lew Oldom with his wagon and lawnmower. Wonder how many yards he’ll mow today? He knows more about this town than anyone and talks less than anyone. How long has he been mowing lawns around town?

      Nobody knows much about him. He just showed up about ten years ago and started mowing lawns for a living. He also collects bottles and scrap iron and sells them to the scrap man up on the hill.

      After his haircut, Jim continued on to the pond. Jim stopped and watched the kids playing baseball in the field next to the pond. He thought about the times he’d watched his boys play on the same field. His children were grown now, with families of their own. He missed all the excitement of having five boys and a girl running around the house. Allie and he looked forward to having them all home on Christmas. As Jim opened the bucket and pulled out his waders, he noticed something odd floating on the pond.

      Wadding out to the middle of the pond, Jim could see what looked like a naked body floating head down in the water. When he reached the body he slowly felt the cold neck and arm. Jim struggled to roll him over. He saw a young man in his twenties with no signs of life. Jim slowly pulled him to the bank. He rushed back to the field and asked one of the boys to run to the nearest house to call the sheriff. Tell them that there’s been a drowning out at the pond and to come quick!

      The ball game ended abruptly. They all started to head for the pond. Hold on! Stop! Jim shouted, We need to wait for the sheriff to get here. I don’t think it’s anyone we know, I know most everyone in town and I didn’t recognize him. Jim gathered the boys around in a circle. I know you boys and I need you to join me in a prayer for the family of this young man. As Jim prayed, sirens could be heard in the distance, growing louder by the minute.

      Sheriff Joe Brown pulled onto the ball field along with two other police cars.

      Jim, what’s this about a drowning?

      Stay here boys while I show Sheriff Joe Brown what I found.

      What makes you think he drowned?

      It looks like he may have been swimming. He doesn’t have any clothes on and I didn’t see any marks on his body.

      The water seems too cold for swimming. Did you recognize him?

      Never seen him before, Joe. Just this morning I waded all around out there and didn’t see a thing. I pulled him up on the bank.

      The sheriff examined the body and rolled it over, checking for any sign of force or injuries. He looks clean enough, but we’ll know more after the doctor looks at him.

      The officers circled the pond, looking for clues. Another siren interrupted them, as an ambulance arrived. Two men carrying a stretcher joined them at the edge of the pond.

      Jim, bring the boys down here one at a time. Let’s see if any of them has ever seen this guy before.

      Okay Joe, be right back.

      One by one the boys looked at the dead man’s face, the body now covered to the neck and lying on a stretcher. Joe studied their faces for any sign of recognition or fear. None of them had seen him before. The ambulance crew loaded him into the ambulance and left with the stranger.

      Jim, we’re going to circle the pond again before darkness closes in to look for tracks and find out where he might have entered the pond. Want to join us?

      I’ve got waders on. I can walk near the edges of the water along the bank. I won’t disturb any tracks.

      Fine. We’re going to stay back about twenty feet from the bank to search for clues. Yell if you see anything.

      Jim started out, as a water snake slithered off in front of him. He could see the bottom easily through the clear water. Three turtles and two snakes later, Jim froze in his tracks. Joe! Come over here, but watch where you step. I have boot tracks, but no bare feet tracks.

      Jim, I can see two sets of deep boot tracks going down to the pond and two light sets coming back up from the water. Looks like they carried something heavy down to the water’s edge. Can you see any tracks on the bottom of the pond?

      No tracks, but something has disturbed the mud there.

      Yea, looks like someone may have thrown the young man’s, body out into the pond. The water’s not deep enough for someone to swim. I’ll have the guys make a cast of the prints.

      Back in the car, Sheriff Joe got a call on his radio, Jim overheard the dispatcher telling the sheriff that the doctor hadn’t found any water in the body’s lungs, Doc said he didn’t think he drowned! He needs to run more tests. It may take a while to determine the cause of death.

      Joe gave Jim a ride home. A worried Allie met him on the porch. Why is the Sheriff bringing you home? What on earth has happened! Jim, are you alright?

      I’m ok, he replied as Joe drove away. Someone drowned in the pond. I'll tell you the whole story over dinner. Sorry, I don’t have any fish tonight.

      That night they stayed up late by the fire, listening to the radio, hoping to learn if anyone had turned up missing.

      The rooster sounded much louder than usual, or at least it seemed that way to Jim and Allie. They had stayed up till midnight, listening to the news.

      Sam will be bringing a block of ice by around seven. Better fix him a cup of coffee and some eggs, I’m sure he’ll want to hear about the dead body at the pond.

      What are we going to do with all that ice? You going to catch some fish today?

      No I guess not now, too much excitement, I think I’ll rest up today. I'm sure you can find a good use for that block of ice.

      Sam delivered the ice and stayed for breakfast. He wanted to hear all the details from the evening before. When Jim had finished, Sam remarked, I see quite a few young men coming through town on the train. Maybe I’d better go down to the station and see if he looks like any of them. They like to stop and talk while they get some ice to suck on.

      Before Sam left, the local newspaper reporter, Ray, knocked on the door. Morning Jim. Could you give me some information for the paper? Hi Sam, did you see anything?

      No, but I’m going down to look at his face. He may have been one of those young men or a hobo. Got your headlines for tomorrow’s paper?

      Yeah, we’ll sell a lot of papers tomorrow. I may be up late tonight running off extra copies.

      Ray, I can’t give you all the information. The sheriff said to keep some of the information quiet while they investigate and question others about the possible murder. Come on in, Ray, and have a seat. Thanks for the ice, Sam. See you Monday.

      Jim, I hear you’d gone fishing Friday afternoon when you found the young man in the pond. Tell me all you can. Ray pulled out his notebook and started writing.

      Jim shared with Ray all the details except for the footprints on the bank. The sheriff didn’t want word to get around that they had plaster casts of two sets of boot prints for evidence, so that whoever left the tracks would not dispose of their boots. They continued to search the area for clues and didn’t want

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