When my boys were still “kids” we used to spend a fair amount of time fishing the Kishwaukee south on Perryville Road from Cherryvale Mall. We would either float the “Kish” in a small flat bottom boat or walk the banks casting. Some of my best memories are from those times together. This was one of the walking days.
We had spent a couple hours with little luck but the day itself was beautiful so it really didn’t matter. As we walked back along the river toward the car we continued to cast, each of us using different lures, trying to get a bass or northern excited enough to hit. My oldest son was using a “Daredevil.” That is a striped lure shaped like the ‘eatin end of a spoon with a large treble hook attached to the rear to surprise an unsuspecting pike.
As he made what would be the last cast of the day the lure wrapped around a small low hanging branch, just out of reach. Since it was about six inches above my reach I jumped to get it and managed to grab the treble hook and bury it into one of the fingers of my right hand. I was on my tiptoes with the branch pulling upward on the lure. There was no choice but to pull down my right hand to get the lure from the branch. I pulled down and in serious pain managed to grab the branch with my left hand and break the lure free. The hook was now past the hook bend into my finger. I carefully walked to the car with the lure dangling. Once seated in the car I gingerly put my hand down on the bench seat to keep it as steady as possible, at which time the same son jumped in the front seat onto the hand, smashing it into the seat and burying the hook even deeper. If there is a good side to this, he at least didn’t hook his rear.
We made it home and I took wire cutters to try to clip it off and push the hook on through. The finger was swelling quickly. After a lot of painful work with wire cutters I managed to cut through the hook, only to see it disappear into the swollen finger. Nothing left to do. The next stop was the emergency room, where they cut out the hook and were concerned it wasn’t bleeding from the incision so (I kid you not) the doctor took the scalpel and sliced the area a couple times to start the bleeding.
This is a true story. Don’t believe me? Ask to see the scar. As the old saying goes, “it always is the darkest just before it goes completely black!”
Ken “lucky” Dillenburg