A Fishing Life
The forgotten rods were hung between basement joists. The tackle, trophy and yellowing newspaper speak of a record striper taken nearly 50 years ago.
What can you learn about a person from his oncevalued objects left behind?
A battered trolling rod that throbbed under the strain of a record fish. A large, hook-scarred swimming plug, its paint cracked, corrosion slowly eating the metal parts. A delicate bamboo fly rod. An old-fashioned tackle box arranged just as the angler left it
The gear shown on these pages belonged to Henry Walsh, an avid, lifelong fisherman and a natural storyteller with an abiding curiosity about the outdoors. I never met or spoke with Henry — he died more than two years ago at age 78 — but I got to know him recently through his tackle, the notes in his fishing journal and
