“Time to catch some fish,” Grandpa whispered. I jumped out of bed in my grandparent’s home in downtown Franklin in Jackson County. Downtown meaning it was at the corner of Highway N and Beck Road, across the street from the Franklin Store, the center of the hamlet of about eight houses. It was.
Late season snow storms always take me back to March 24, 1979 in the tiny town of Franklin in Jackson County. My feet were wet, and I was beginning to shiver as the three of us stood at the dark back door of my grandparent’s Keith and Cecile Hardie’s house. I had tagged along with.