Picking at memories of a long life: Night crawlers, comforters, deer hunting, advice on kids

Picking crawlers while walking Lady in the rain Thursday felt like picking a scab.

My dad, Leroy Bowman, died over the solar eclipse weekend.

Picking crawlers (gathering night crawlers on roads/sidewalks, where they crawl to warm on rainy days) pulled up a favorite memory.

Some 40 years ago, we were driving toward Winkelblech Mountain near Woodward, Pennsylvania, to hunt spring turkeys, then fish trout in Pine Creek, a tributary of the legendary Penn's Creek. As we turned a corner on a country road between Amish farms, our headlights showed hundreds of crawlers. Dad stopped so I could fill a Ball quart jar with them.

It's hard to pick only a few memories from a man who lived to 95.

Not everything was flowers and sunshine.

Through high school I worked at Ruhl's Greenhouses, honing my gardening. A buddy saved Mexican Red marijuana seeds, then I started them. Plan was to grow them in cornfields, then split profits. I rigged lighting by my south bedroom window and the magical plants exploded. I told Mom they were special tomato plants. Dad didn't buy that.

Much of his adult life, Dad worked in limestone quarries or concrete plants. He loved and knew big equipment. When my marijuana neared transplanting stage, Dad took plants to work in his company pickup, then showed them to ex-cons on his crew. They told him they were pot plants. My game was up.

I was grounded among other punishments, but Dad maintained communication. In those years, our best times, sometimes only, for talking were driving to or from hunting and fishing. Decades later he listened closely to my questions on how to deal with our three sons. He and Mom raised five. His advice was profoundly simple: let them make their own way and stay in contact.

Dad worked in the world of hard quarrymen, yet he was an ordained Mennonite deacon. He evolved from supporting Barry Goldwater in 1964 to marching against the Vietnam War.

As a farm boy, he only went to eighth grade, yet earned his GED late in life and most of us six kids made graduate school.

His anomalies may explain why he connected with others. He volunteered for more than 10 years in Lancaster County's Volunteers in Probation and Parole program, earning Volunteer of the Year in 1993.

In retirement, he pieced and sewed more than 1,000 comforters for Mennonite Central Committee. I'm Neanderthal enough to have a hard time reconciling Dad's sewing. He laughed when I wondered about it, saying he loved it.

Dad retained his lifelong love of the outdoors, where he felt closest to God. He joined my younger brother Leon and me for hunting and fishing in the central Pennsylvania mountains until a few years ago.

After he turned 95 last year, I took him to catch one last fish from White Deer Creek, a favorite trout stream. He didn't catch a trout, but landed a redside dace.

Memories keep roiling up.

In memory, donations may be sent to MCC (mcc.org/donate) or Tenfold (wearetenfold.org/beth-shalom/).

Wild things

Sturgeon spawning is a wild time to observe the prehistoric fish. As of Sunday, according to the Wisconsin DNR, sturgeon were spawning on the Wolf River at Sturgeon Trail in New London and Bamboo Bend in Shiocton, with other sites soon. Follow updates at dnr.wisconsin.gov/topic/Fishing/sturgeon/SturgeonSpawning.

Illinois hunting

Turkey hunting is underway statewide, meaning morel hunting and other activities are limited until 1 p.m. at IDNR sites open to spring turkey hunting.

Stray cast

Sox season feels like stepping into the sucking muck of a field fluddle.