OOM1

   My name is Sam, as is my Dad's. He is senior and I am junior. He promised to take me fishing when the time was available. He never had time off from work! I was very excited, because he was coming home and had said to get out the fishing gear.

     I spent many hours in preparation for his homecoming. He had been gone from home for nearly four weeks. Dad always tried to call me every night. He'd stop at various truck stops on the road and dial up the cell phone. My Dad hauled many heavy loads up and down the East Coast of the United States.

     In anticipation of our weekend, I had cleaned out the tackle box and gotten rid of the tangled lines. I replaced the rusty hooks with bright new ones.    I was so excited. Dad would arrive home this very evening.

     Our family lives close to the water, in a small town on Maryland's Eastern Shore. Many times, Dad and I had launched our small motor boat from the dock in Federalsburg. We were lucky to have bait stores on the way and I had gone across the street to get food for our trip. Carefully, I went over my list that he had given me.    I placed everything that we would need near the door to the garage and then loaded the trunk of the car. The only thing left, was to get ice for the cooler and the bait. Hopefully, we would be able to get an early start, so that at dawn our boat would be anchored in the middle of Marshy Hope Creek. The creek was known for good fishing and crabbing.

Many residents of Maryland's Eastern Shore have handed down stories about the slavery days, when the Underground Railroad was in operation. We live very close to the tourist area, where you can actually take a tour of the railroad. The Underground Railroad isn't really a train that runs on tracks, but a way to help runaway slaves escape their cruel owners. There were many houses and barns along the way, to rest, get medical care, and find something to eat. The brave slaves and their families had to trust and rely on total strangers to help them get to freedom. The dock in Federalsburg, where we planned to launch our boat, is very close to many of the routes along the Underground Railroad. Many frightened slaves had huddled, hidden in boats, to take their frightening trip to the next station of refuge. The famous Patty Cannon house on the Mason Dixon Line is only a few miles away.

I've even heard that Patty Cannon was a spy for both the North and the South. If a slave went to her house, chances are, that they would have been turned over to the South! I had heard so many stories about the area, that I didn't give it much thought that night.

I heard the familiar sound of the Peterbilt outside my window. I ran to the door and greeted Dad with a hug. "Everything ready, Son?" I nodded yes to his question, and nearly drug him out the door to the packed station wagon. "Give me a minute, to catch my breath!" I forgot how tired he was and how he needed a moment with his coffee. Quickly, I poured his coffee, and sat it in front of him at the kitchen table. I looked at him, as he was quietly reflecting on his day. He was pure country, a little bit Willy Nelson and a lot trucker. The kitchen table was his favorite place at home. We sometimes called it Dad's office. If he wasn't sitting there when he got home, you could find him puttering around the fish pond, or the town! I don't think I gave him much time to get acclimated to home, because I was quickly telling him about all of my preparations.

Finally, he was ready to leave. We went over the checklist while standing by the back hatch of the Subaru. After hooking our seatbelts, Dad reved up the engine and we headed for the bait store. We picked up the bait and the ice for the cooler and were soon at the dock.