This is my post for #freewriters 2235 prompt man of prestige hosted by 
I was just a little girl who followed him everywhere he went, I watched what he was doing and would always beg to go fishing with him. I think he was my first love other than my father. I called him Uncle Richard and he was married to Aunt May. Neither was related to me, they had no children of their own but they had taken my mom in as their child and all of her children were like their children. This was after she was married to my dad, she was 15 when they married.
Their house was across the river from us and it was where we went when we were to have a hurricane, it was our safe place. Uncle Richard would whistle while he worked and I loved to listen to him. He had rabbits and pigeons in cages but I never knew that was what we were having for dinner. He never killed or butchered them when I was around. I thought they were pets like the dogs he kept. To me he was a man of prestige.
Another man of prestige was Coolidge Judah, owner of Judah Fish House. He was admired by anyone who knew him and he was one of the hardest working men on the river. He fished 6 days a week, he was fair to all of his fishermen and customers. He kept his prices low so everyone could afford fish to eat.
When the net ban went into effect, it crushed his soul. Until the day he passed on he never went back on the water. I am sure he is now fishing every day, except Sunday in Heaven.
There were so many old fishermen that I admired but they are no longer with us, Devane was a good trout fisherman, grouper, and kingfish. He would tell stories of times past. I wish I would have recorded them but they are forever forgotten.
Flash fished for kingfish and would buy his bait from me, old Joe was a Louisianna native, a true Coon-ass, and I loved to listen to him talk. One day he came over the CB radio and said, "I just got into a darn boat wreck". He said he was looking down and everything turned red, a red shrimp boat came out of the fog and collided with him. To appreciate his voice, you have to know what Louisanna's slang sounds like.
I have to include a picture of my Dad. He was a unique man who went from being a fisherman to opening his own campground. He had a bar and one day another fisherman who I admired named Dickie told me the story of the time he walked into Dad's bar at the campground and said, "Henry, what are you doing?" He said Dad was standing there with a shotgun in one hand and the Bible in the other. He said Dad told him he was preaching and they are listening.
photos are mine
