catnthehat
05-10-2014, 12:18 PM
Something to ponder:
" it was a long way, but he knew where he was going. He would follow the road through the woods and over the crest of the hill to the stream, and cross the sagging timbers of the bridge, and on the other side would be the place called Tinkhamtown. He was going back to Tinkhamtown."
I have taken this paragraph with the greatest respect from a book I gave to my father in 1988 for Christmas.
I had forgotten about it, but last week after I visited my parents' grave, I was in my older brother's library and came across the book.
It was a very emotional day for me, and reading the inscription inside the cover was almost too much for me.
My all knowing brother the Captain, simply said that I should take it home and re-read the book.
The book's author was Corey Ford, a man whose short stories were the first ones I read when the new Field and Stream monthly came to the house,
they were called simply " The Lower forty".
The Lower Forty Shooting, Angling , and Inside Straight Club was comprised of a bunch of characters of whom we all know, and although fictitious , we can relate to them all!
"The Road To Tinkhamtown" however, is a short story not about them, but about a hunter's memories of the finest times he had with his setter, and the final hours of his own days, and a hunter - especially a dog lover, cannot read it without emotion.
My parents rest overlooking a particularly beautiful valley where my father hunted for many years, and where he took me to hunt ruffed grouse.
They are not far from where my mother grew up .
I know where my "Tinkhamtown" will be when it's my time, where is yours?
Cat
" it was a long way, but he knew where he was going. He would follow the road through the woods and over the crest of the hill to the stream, and cross the sagging timbers of the bridge, and on the other side would be the place called Tinkhamtown. He was going back to Tinkhamtown."
I have taken this paragraph with the greatest respect from a book I gave to my father in 1988 for Christmas.
I had forgotten about it, but last week after I visited my parents' grave, I was in my older brother's library and came across the book.
It was a very emotional day for me, and reading the inscription inside the cover was almost too much for me.
My all knowing brother the Captain, simply said that I should take it home and re-read the book.
The book's author was Corey Ford, a man whose short stories were the first ones I read when the new Field and Stream monthly came to the house,
they were called simply " The Lower forty".
The Lower Forty Shooting, Angling , and Inside Straight Club was comprised of a bunch of characters of whom we all know, and although fictitious , we can relate to them all!
"The Road To Tinkhamtown" however, is a short story not about them, but about a hunter's memories of the finest times he had with his setter, and the final hours of his own days, and a hunter - especially a dog lover, cannot read it without emotion.
My parents rest overlooking a particularly beautiful valley where my father hunted for many years, and where he took me to hunt ruffed grouse.
They are not far from where my mother grew up .
I know where my "Tinkhamtown" will be when it's my time, where is yours?
Cat